Chapter Eight
Axel
Norah pulls out paperwork and places it on the counter. “Sorry. We’re not technology-based. You’ll need to fill these out before you leave with a dog. Usually, there’s a screening process, but I think we can trust the word of our resident vet.” She grins at Tara.
“I’ll do that,” I say, picking up the pen and answering the questions as the women speak.
“How’s the fundraising going?” Tara asks, causing my ears to perk up.
Norah lets out a sigh. “Unfortunately, not as well as I’d like. I don’t want to have to close this place in the off months, but I don’t know if I can afford to keep it going if nobody pitches in.” Norah shrugs. “I put in as much money as I could on my own, but things are tight.”
“You’re having financial problems?” I ask as I scrawled my name on the final page.
Norah glances up. “Yes. I started the shelter with my inheritance, but it’s expensive to keep the place up and running without substantial donations.” She pulls out a set of keys. “Ready to check out the dogs?”
Obviously, she doesn’t want to discuss her business problems, and I respect that. We follow Norah to the door leading to the back kennels.
She pauses before letting us in. “So what kind of dog are you looking for? Big, small, medium? Hair, fur?”
I look at Tara, aware I must have a confused expression on my face. I haven’t thought about the kind of dog I want.
She laughs and pats my shoulder. “He loves a friend’s golden retriever, so he’s comfortable with that size and type of fur. Beyond that, let’s see who he takes to and who takes to him.”
No sooner has Norah opened the door than a cacophony of barking sounds loudly around us, all the dogs making their excited presence known.
As we walk past the runs, rooms, and cages, a knot forms in my stomach at the number of unwanted dogs. “I wish I could take them all,” I say over the noise.
Tara puts her hand on my shoulder. “I know how you feel. Every time I come in to do a check on a new or sick animal, I want to bring them all home. But for now, Dakota is enough.”
“I still need to meet her,” I say, determined to be part of everything in her life.
“We’ll do that. Now look around and see who draws you.” She speaks into my ear, and my body reacts to her nearness and warm breath.
Reaching over, I slide my hand into hers. “Let’s walk.”
We pass large breeds, small and medium breeds, exuberant dogs, and dogs who hang back, watching warily. I stride up and down the aisle, taking in one side of the cages and then the other.
I pause by a solitary black and white dog with silky fur and big puppy eyes. With a black head and a white stripe along the nose and a white body, the dog is … special. Our gazes meet and hold.
“That’s a pointer/border collie mix,” Norah says, coming up behind us. “He’s a large breed. Currently weighs fifty-five pounds, and his name is Walter.”
As she explains, Walter and I experience some kind of serious bonding moment. This dog speaks to me without words.
“He’s an owner surrender,” Norah goes on. “The family had to move away and into a small apartment. Walter has a lot of energy, and they couldn’t meet his needs.”
I stare at the dog. “Can you open the gate?”
As Norah lets him into the run, she says, “I should warn you, he’s a”—the dog immediately begins to rub up against my jeans—“clinger,” she says, laughing.
I kneel down, and Walter leans farther into me, rubbing his head into my stomach.
In that instant, I know in my heart this is my dog.
The only problem is, much like his previous owners, I won’t be around to give the dog the attention and exercise he undoubtedly needs for his energy level.
Though he seems mellow now, I have no doubt Norah knows what she’s talking about.
Though I intend to buy a big house, what will happen when I’m away on tour, like Tara had asked? When she laid it out for me in the parking lot, I didn’t want to admit she had a point. But faced with the dog I want with every fiber of my being, I can’t be selfish.
I rise slowly and turn to Tara.
“What’s wrong?” she asks before I can speak. “Is he not the right dog?” Concern wrinkles the corners of her eyes.
I glance down at Walter, who is still rubbing against me like a cat, claiming me in every way. “No, he’s perfect.” And I have a goddamned lump in my throat.
I swallow hard. “I can’t take him. You were right.
I’m not in any position to bring a dog home.
I was listening to Norah talk about his previous family and all they couldn’t give him, and it made me realize I’m no better.
I might have the space for him, but it’s not fair to bring him home and pawn him off on Cassidy or Sasha.
He’s had enough upheaval in his short life. ”
Tara glances at Norah, then hooks her arm into mine and leads me out of the dog pen, down the hall, and out into the main room. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs.
I shake my head. “You tried to tell me.” It hurts like hell to walk away from Walter. I want to pull the dog into my arms and give him the home he deserves.
“Let’s get out of here.” I glance at Norah. “Sorry to have wasted your time.”
She treats me to an understanding smile. “I’d prefer you realize now rather than later and have him go through yet another home before being returned here.”
“Thanks, Norah. I’ll see you on my regular day.” Tara waves, and we walk out into the muggy air.
We stop by the car, and she taps my arm. “I’m sorry,” she says again.
I don’t have any words for what I’m feeling.
“Do you want to come back to my place and meet Dakota? Or is it the wrong time?” she asks.
I might be in a shit mood, but I won’t turn down spending time with Tara or meeting her dog. My get a pet plan might have imploded, but my win over Tara agenda hasn’t changed.
* * *
Tara
I sense Axel’s mood and remain quiet on the drive to my house. Despite knowing he’s done the right thing, my heart hurts because he so obviously bonded with Walter. Axel parks in my driveway, and I slip my hand into his as we walk to my front door.
“Hang on.” I open my purse and sort through my stuff, finding my key.
No sooner do I open the door than Dakota comes barreling toward us, a white ball of fur jumping on Axel with her front paws.
“Dakota, off,” I say as I shut the door behind us.
The well-trained dog immediately places all four paws on the floor. I haven’t been able to train the greeting out of her, but she listens once she says hello.
I kick off my shoes by the door, then glance at Axel, wondering if he’ll care that he now has white fur on his black clothes. But he is already kneeling on the floor, giving my baby a huge greeting that will only make the hair situation worse. Question answered, I muse.
Though Dakota greets everyone warmly, she is good at getting a sense of people and turning her back if she doesn’t like how she is treated. No worries here. If her paws on his shoulders are anything to go by, she and Axel are now best buds.
Amused, I lean against the wall, watching them for a minute before I’m ready to move things along. “Let’s relax in another room, or she’s going to think you’re her new playmate.”
Axel’s gaze meets mine, and laughter dances in his eyes. “Jealous that another girl is paying attention to me?”
I roll my eyes. “Are you seriously asking me if I’m jealous of my dog?”
He rises to his feet and walks toward me. I take one step back and come up against the wall, aware of his large body so close to mine.
“I’m sorry about Walter,” I say softly.
He nods. “I should have listened to you. You know what you’re talking about, and you know what? Maybe a part of me did want the dog to get your approval, at least at first.”
It impresses me that he admits the truth. “Until you met him,” I murmur, lifting my hand and cupping his cheek. “Pets have a way of burrowing into our hearts.”
He touches his forehead to mine. “Not just pets.”
We remain like that, our breaths mingling, so many words between us unsaid.
Maybe they need to be spoken out loud. “It feels like this is moving so fast I can’t keep up,” I say.
“Because when we’re together, it’s like no time has passed.” He places his hand beneath my chin and tilts my head up so I meet his gaze. “Stop overthinking, Tara. Let those walls down,” he says in a husky voice.
Oh, God. I really can’t resist him. Rising onto my tiptoes, I press my lips to his, and he lets out a low groan.
Next thing I know, he lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his waist, holding on.
I bury my face in the crook of his neck and breathe in his scent, one I dream about every night when I am alone.
“Bedroom?” he asks.
I direct him, and he carries me to my room with determined strides. “Close the door, or we’ll have company you don’t want.”
He kicks the door shut behind us. “Unless you’re replacing me as your girlfriend with Dakota?” I laugh at the thought but sober quickly as my chest rubs against his, my nipples feeling the pressure of his hard body as I move.
“You’re irreplaceable,” he says, tossing me onto the bed.
I bounce and glance up to find his expression filled with yearning.
He clasps my legs and yanks me closer to the edge of the mattress, making me wonder what he has planned. Nothing prepares me for the moment he grasps the sides of my button-down shirt and yanks, sending the buttons flying.
I gasp in surprise but have to admit I find his determination hot, and my core pulses with need. He pulls one cup of my bra down and latches on to my nipple with his mouth, sucking until my sex practically vibrates with each tug of his lips and scrape of his teeth.
Writhing on the mattress, I try to hold on to the covers but can’t get a grip, so I pull on his hair instead.
I can’t decide if I’m urging him on or trying to escape the intensity of feelings he arouses.
As if he knows I can’t take any more, he switches to the other breast, giving it the same treatment until I think I might come from his mouth on my nipples alone.
“I need you inside me.” My body won’t let me deny what it wants.
“I like you bossy.” He stands upright, pulling me to a sitting position. “Now strip.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Now who’s bossy?” I ask as he watches, waiting for me to move.
I shrug off my blouse, unhook and slide off my bra. Only then does he shed his T-shirt, unbutton, unzip, and tug down his jeans and boxer briefs. His shoes are already kicked to the side, and his clothes quickly join them.
Trying not to get sidetracked by his thick, erect cock, which I desperately want to feel inside me, I work on my slacks and manage to slide them, along with my underwear, down to my ankles. He grabs hold and pulls, adding them to his garments on the floor.
Then he stands between my legs, his erection gripped in his hand, when it dawns on me.
“We need a condom,” I say.
He winces. “Shit. I didn’t bring one.” He studies me intently and then speaks. “I haven’t been with anyone in over six months, and I’ve had a physical since then. I’m clean.”
I swallow hard. When we were together last, we always used protection. We were young, not stupid. And I’ve never slept with a man unless he wore a condom.
“I’m on the pill,” I whisper.
“So I guess the question is, do you trust me?” As he asks, he lazily pumps his cock in his hand, his jaw tight as he works his grip up and down.
His lean, strong, muscled body exudes want and sex appeal, but beyond the physical, what he is asking me goes deeper. If I say yes, if I feel him bare, it will change me. It will change us.
“I trust that you’re telling me the truth.” I swipe my tongue over my lips. “I’m struggling with what saying yes would mean.” He deserves nothing but honesty.
His eyes glitter as he meets my gaze. “It would mean everything. I want you to trust me not just with your body but with your heart.”
Well, that is putting it out there, I think, my pulse picking up speed.
“I want you to believe I’ll never intentionally hurt you.
I won’t cheat when I’m on the road. I don’t know how long the touring part of the Original Kings will last, but it won’t be every year.
I’ll talk to Dash and see if he’s ready to cut back some.
I’ll give you everything you want for your future because I want the same things, but only with you. ”
My mouth parts, and I stare up at the man I once dreamed would be my future, even as I knew we could never make it work.
I’ve been fighting him from the day he walked back into my life, and I understand why.
I lost Axel, then not long after, my father’s death left me with abandonment issues that run deep.
Now I have to choose. Let him in, in every way, or continue to protect myself and never know true happiness. I watched my mother conquer her grief and move on. Am I going to doom myself to a life of loneliness?
He holds out a hand, silently asking for … everything.
I draw a deep breath and take that final leap, linking my hand in his.
“Thank fuck,” he says, the relief in his tone palpable. The husky desire in his voice renews my own.
I’m not sure who moves first, but he falls on top of me, his lips consuming mine, our kiss more open, honest, and giving than anything I’ve felt before.
He helps me slide back to the center of the bed and rises over me, his cock once again in his hand, this time at my pulsing, needy core.
“You’re mine. You’ve always been mine,” he says and slides into me, filling me, consuming me.
He’s smooth and hot inside me, and with nothing between us, we bond in ways that surpass sex and break through the concrete wall I built around my heart.