The Pet Stylist and the Playboy

by Rebecca James

  “I want it for Swish. To send him to school.”

  Ax leaned against the headboard, studying me. “Did he say he wanted to go to school?”

  I nodded. “It’s one of the few things he’d told me that was personal in nature back when I brought him here. He said he’d thought about culinary school.”

  Ax frowned. “Cooking? I know the kid likes to mess around in the kitchen, but I’m not sure he wants to do it as a career. He’s never spent a hell of a lot of time cooking other than to make our meals.”

  “Our kitchen sucks. Gus’s is modern with expensive cookware and all kinds of gadgets, and Swish’s been going to town over there, making all kinds of stuff. If he wants to go to culinary school, I want him to be able to do it.”

  “What makes you think he’ll take the money?” Ax asked.

  “I’ll convince him one way or another.”

  Ax stood, looming over me. “So, you’re doing this for Swish?”

  I sighed. “No, not entirely.” My feelings about my father and my responsibilities were too difficult to put into words.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, man,” Ax said, heading for the door.

  I hoped so, too.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Swish

  I dove into the lake and did the butterfly stroke to the far shore, hoping the vigorous swim would warm me up. Although the day was hot, and I’d worked up a sweat helping Dante build the enclosure for the dogs, the water was alarmingly cold. I was pretty sure my nuts had retreated somewhere deep inside my body.

  I thought about the progress Dante and I had made on the enclosure. It was going to be so nice having a place to pen the dogs while I cleaned, instead of having to move them from room to room ahead of me. It was Saturday, and Deirdre was working in the shelter. I’d had two early grooming appointments before I ha decided to help Dante, and when he’d suggested a break, I eagerly headed for the lake while he sat in the shade and made some phone calls.

  I wondered who he was talking to. Used to be, he’d chat with me about this and that, but lately, he’d been falling silent for long periods of time, and it worried me.

  I headed back for the dock, enjoying the swim. When I’d lived with Clint, he had insisted I take lessons because having me in a tiny bathing suit in front of all his rich friends on his yacht had given him a massive boner.

  When I’d first heard there were older, gay men who wanted young guys they could spoil, I’d been doubtful it could really be that easy for me to get off the streets. I’d checked into it anyway and been amazed when a few inquiries in the right places had gotten me hooked up in no time. I’d found myself with a sugar daddy, and “Swish” had been born.

  It hadn’t been bad at first. I was so thankful to have enough to eat and a warm place to sleep, I didn’t spend much time thinking about what it was I was actually doing. But after the novelty had worn off, the reality that I was paid to be pretty and more or less obedient had begun to sink in. Clint hadn’t wanted me for me; he’d wanted something to show off. I’d been his whore, and that had stung.

  So, I had left, but I had found the role of Swish I’d developed to be a helpful barrier between me and the outside world. It was harder to feel bad about being rejected or judged when it wasn’t really you.

  I’d been thinking of Clint a lot lately, probably due to the transition from being under the care of the MC to being out on my own. I didn’t hate the man or anything, but I certainly didn’t miss him. We’d split on good terms, although Clint had tried to convince me to stay with him.

  I found I liked having responsibilities. At the club, I cooked for the guys and did chores to feel like I was pulling my weight, but eventually I’d begun to feel like a free loader, although nobody had ever indicated anything like that. So, I’d started grooming dogs, which gave me a modicum of self-worth. I found I had a connection with the animals—that being with them soothed me. I loved doing it, and the job with Gus just made it all even better.

  What really pleased me was Gus seemed to genuinely like having me around. I enjoyed his company, too. Lately I’d been noticing him relying on me more and more, and I wondered what would have happened to him if I’d turned the job down. He was in his early eighties, although he looked younger, and had recently started using a walker instead of his cane. It made me sad every time I saw him with it.

  In the evenings after dinner, Gus always invited me to hang around, and I would read while he did his nightly crossword. He had a couple of dogs that would sit at our feet. In those moments, I felt more accepted than I had in any foster home growing up, or even in the clubhouse. My evenings with Gus had become special.

  I pulled myself onto the dock and grabbed the towel I’d left warming in the sun. I was shivering, but the swim had revitalized me. I looked at my arms as I dabbed the beads of water from my skin, noticing I’d gained more muscle definition during the weeks I’d been working at the shelter. My body was no powerhouse like Dante’s, but I was beginning to look healthy. I’d even given up cigarettes.

  Hammering started up in the distance, meaning Dante was back to work from his break. Wrapping the beach towel around my shoulders like a cape, I headed in that direction. The closer I got to Dante working in the enclosure, the more my eyes drank in the sight of him. He’d pulled his long hair into a pony tail and had stripped off his shirt. The muscles in his arms and back rippled as he moved pieces of wood and pounded nails into place. I’d always found the club tat on his upper arm hot as hell. The devil with its tongue sticking out seemed to match Dante’s often mischievous personality, although he’d been more sullen than anything else lately. Dante had another tattoo on his back of a great horned owl in flight, and every time he moved, it looked like the bird stretched its wings over his broad shoulders.

  Dante looked up and smiled at me as I approached, eyes raking over my body in a way that sent a different kind of shiver through me.

  Despite the recent cold swim, my dick reacted, and I knew the moment Dante noticed because he jerked his eyes up to my face.

  I’m not sure what came over me, but my Swish persona took over. I pursed my lips and smiled. “See something you like?”

  Dante’s mouth dropped open. I never flirted with him.

  I stepped onto the porch. “I’m going to get dressed, and then I’ll be out to help,” I called back over my shoulder.

  Dante didn’t speak, and I liked to think it was because he couldn’t, but hell, the guy couldn’t be that enthralled by me. He had his pick of men and women to warm his bed, and I was nothing special. I’d probably just made a fool of myself.

  Upstairs, I paused at my bedroom window. Dante was standing where I’d left him, looking toward the house. On impulse, I crossed to the drawer where I’d unpacked the contents of my blue suitcase.

  Inside lay piles of silky goodness. I ran my hands through the pastel panties and negligees, letting the material slide over my skin. I hadn’t worn any of them since leaving Clint, not because I hadn’t wanted to, but because they reminded me of my life back then. Plus, I hadn’t been about to wear women’s underwear in a house full of bikers, no matter how accepting I knew the Hedonists to be.

  Fact was, I loved wearing ladies’ underwear. I loved the feel of silk and lace next to my skin and the illicit thrill of wearing something shocking under my normal clothes. Clint had encouraged it, and I’d developed quite a collection. Maybe it was time I started doing what I wanted. Maybe I should let Swish go and find out who Isaac really was.

  With another glance toward the window, I made a quick selection and shimmied out of my swim pants.

  When I’d had a shower and headed down the stairs, I had on something special underneath my low-riding jeans—something that was sure to make an appearance every time I bent over, and I couldn’t help wondering how Dante would react to that.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Dante

  I’d never seen Swish so...undressed. Despite sharing a room for two years, he’d never tak
en his clothes off in front of me. And those tiny bathing briefs weren’t covering up much. First there was Swish’s cute bubble butt I’d always tried to pretend I didn’t notice, then that package in front that the wet briefs did a poor job of concealing. I swear I’d seen it harden.

  Realizing Swish was getting a boner, I’d met his deep, dark gaze.

  “See something you like?” he’d asked me in that flirtatious manner that he fucking never directed at me. My balls had tightened, and time had stilled for who knows how long. I didn’t even comprehend what he’d called to me over his shoulder before disappearing into the house. Even then, I’d just stood there until reality had slowly started seeping in, and I’d realized I was staring at the house like an idiot.

  I swung around and got to work, hammering like a fiend, but my mind kept going back to Swish in his swim briefs, and I missed the nail and hit my thumb with the hammer instead.

  “Mother fucker!” Goddamn, that hurt!

  Deirdre stuck her head out the door.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  I wanted to rail at her that no, I wasn’t fucking okay, but she was only trying to help, and it wasn’t her fault I had been daydreaming instead of watching what I was doing. Stuffing my thumb into my mouth, I nodded and gave her a rueful smile.

  I hadn’t been back at it ten minutes when Swish sashayed out the front door wearing a pair of jeans and a tight T-shirt with a unicorn on it. He’d braided his long, thick hair over his shoulder, and I suddenly wanted to grab it like a rope and pull him close. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he bent to pick up a piece of wood. His shirt rode up, exposing smooth skin and a thin piece of lace just above the low waist of his jeans. This time, I caught myself before I pounded my thumb. Fumbling the hammer, I dropped it on the ground, just missing my foot.

  My brain faltered, thoughts slamming into one another before backing up and restarting the flow.

  Holy shit, was Swish wearing a lace thong?

  Swish turned around and caught me staring. But, hell, I couldn’t look away. I was sure I’d never seen him with anything like that on his body before. Or had I ever really paid attention? Had I spent so much time trying to compartmentalize Swish, like Zeke had said, while I fucked away thoughts of a dismal future? No. There was no way I wouldn’t have noticed the single most sexy thing I’d ever seen in my life.

  “What’s the matter?” Swish’s voice cut into my self-assessment.

  I licked my lips, trying to get a grip on myself. I could lie, turn around and resume working, and bang my thumb all over again; or I could address the issue.

  Swish had always been one to speak his mind, maybe I’d take a page out of his book and go for it. Besides, my hand couldn’t take much more abuse.

  “Are you—” Frustrated at how shaking my voice sounded, I cleared my throat and blurted, “What the fuck are you wearing?”

  Swish’s face shuttered, and I immediately wished I hadn’t said anything. But there was no going back now, and I couldn’t leave him with the impression I was judging him.

  “I mean, uh, are those...are you wearing...” I could feel blood rushing to my face as I tried and failed to make it seem like a casual question.

  “A lace thong? Yes.” Swish turned his back to me again and got to work.

  I was having trouble breathing because I could see it—that thin strip of lace crossing Swish’s lower back.

  I swallowed hard before attempting to speak again. “I didn’t know you liked that kind of thing.”

  Swish turned on me so fast, I almost toppled over the stack of wood behind me.

  “That kind of thing? You mean wearing women’s underwear? Why, yes, Dante, I do enjoy that kind of thing. I always have. Do you have a problem with that?”

  An angry Swish was almost as captivating as a Swish wearing ladies’ underwear. His cheeks got red, his dark eyes sparked fire, and that quirky mouth rearranged itself into a hot sneer. He didn’t get worked up that often, but when he did, the sight never failed to raise my heart rate.

  “No, of course not. I’d just never known...that about you.”

  “And why would you know that? You’ve never shown an interest in my underwear before.”

  I straightened and carefully stepped aside to avoid the planks of wood. “I’m not showing an interest—I was just surprised, that’s all.” I ran my hand over my hair. “Hell, lately it feels like I never knew you at all.”

  Swish frowned. “You’ve never tried to get to know me.”

  “We’ve talked a lot,” I objected.

  “Not about anything important,” Swish mumbled, looking away. “Not until recently, when you asked about my past.”

  I stood transfixed, thinking about it. We’d joked around and watched movies, but had we really never touched on anything personal? Ever, in the entire two years? I didn’t want to admit to myself I’d been so dismissive of him, or that he might have been reluctant to ask me about myself. He seemed to know just about everything about the other guys. And come to think of it, I really didn’t know a hell of a lot about them either.

  “Maybe I’ve been a little self-involved,” I said. I could tell I’d surprised him. I turned away and picked up the hammer I had dropped, very aware of Swish’s eyes on me. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and for the first time ever, I was relieved to see my father’s name on the screen.

  “I need to answer this,” I said and started walking toward the lake. A moment later, hammering started up behind me.

  “Dante, this is your father.”

  I licked dry lips. “Yeah, hi.”

  I heard his sigh over the line. I’m not sure how my answering the phone could have irritated him, but it seemed to have.

  I looked over my shoulder to where Swish crouched near the ground, pounding a board in place.

  “What is that noise? Are you walking past a construction site?” my father asked.

  I started walking again.

  “What can I do for you, sir?”

  “You can get your ass over here. We need to talk about a few things. You left so fast after dinner the other night, we didn’t have a chance.”

  I closed my eyes. God.

  “I’m tied up today.”

  “Doing what? Filling someone’s gas tank? Sudsing up a Porsche you should be driving yourself? Dante, it’s time to cut the crap. We made an agreement. You’ve had your fun.”

  I tightened my hold on my phone. “I have five months until my birthday.”

  “Four. What’s the point of putting it off? We need you at the dealership. It’s supposed to be a family-run business, yet I’ve got a complete stranger doing what you should be doing. Play time is over. Get your ass over here, so we can discuss specifics. Deborah has a pot roast in the oven, so don’t eat dinner.”

  Deborah was a wonderful cook who had worked for my parents for years, but even her mouthwatering food couldn’t make dining with my parents again so soon the slightest bit palatable. But my father wouldn’t be denied.

  I heard the front door of the big colonial close and turned to look that way. Gus slowly made his way with his walker across the lawn toward the golf cart he’d recently bought. I’d suggested the purchase, afraid the old man was going to have a heart attack walking around the property like he did. Seeing him reminded me I couldn’t let him down.

  “I’ll be there, but I can’t start at the dealership until September. I have other obligations.”

  I thought my father was going to argue about the obligations to my family I’d been avoiding for years, but I suspected he was too relieved not to have to argue with me about dinner.

  “See you at six.” He hung up without saying goodbye.

  I shoved my phone back into my pocket and took a minute to look out over the calm water of the lake. Two ducks pushed off from shore, gliding along the smooth surface, reminding me of Swish’s child-like awe of nature. Earlier that week, I’d caught him putting a nest with a baby robin back into a tree it had fallen from, a pair
of latex gloves on his hands so he wouldn’t leave a human scent. I’d told him there was no proof human scent would keep a mother bird away, but he’d replied he wasn’t going to take any chances. That morning he’d reported with a wide smile that the mother was feeding the baby.

  I watched the ducks dipping their heads in the water, feeding on fish, for a few moments until I felt calm enough to head back toward the sound of Swish’s hammer.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Swish

  What had I expected? I mused later that night as I sat in Gus’s living room looking through a cook book while Gus did his nightly puzzle. Dante to go wild with desire when he’d caught a glimpse of the thong? I was such an idiot. Hell, Dante hadn’t even stuck around to eat dinner with us, claiming to be going to his parents.

  Right. A date’s more like it.

  That strip of lace I’d shown him had probably gotten Dante thinking about how long it’d been since his last fuck. No doubt he was banging someone at that very moment.

  “Isaac?” Gus pulled me out of my thoughts. I realized I was frowning and relaxed my face.

  Gus looked at me over his reading glasses, pen poised above a folded newspaper and feet propped on the round ottoman. He’d told me he used a pen on his crossword puzzles rather than a pencil because it made it more challenging. Butch, his hound dog, lay close by, snoring and moving his legs as though running in his dreams, and Angel, a Pomeranian and Shih Tzu mix, lay next to Gus on her special blanket.

  “What are you thinking so hard about?”

  “I—” I couldn’t come up with a plausible lie that fast. “Dante,” I admitted.

  “He went to his parents’ to eat, didn’t he?”

  “I think he had a date.”

  Gus put down his pen and took off his glasses. “I’ve been wondering why a capable young man like Dante would waste his time working here.”

  “He likes this kind of work,” I said.

  “He needs to think about the future.” Gus studied me. “How did you two meet?”