The Pet Stylist and the Playboy

by Rebecca James

  “Well, he knows she’s the girl my parents want me to be with.”

  “Unless I’m mistaken, your relationship with Isaac has taken a turn,” Gus said, and I felt my cheeks warm. Not out of embarrassment, but out of shame because Gus was shining a light into all my dark corners, and I had no defense.

  “I’m not sleeping with Felicity,” I said, as though that would make what I was doing okay.

  Gus stared, obviously waiting for me to elaborate.

  I leaned back in the chair, all energy draining from me. My body still buzzed from fucking Isaac over the sofa. He’d been so tight, and he’d looked so good bent over for me like that. With a sudden sinking feeling, I knew how hard it would be to let him go.

  I closed my eyes and rubbed at the pulse beating in my temple. “My parents want me to marry her.”

  “And?” Gus prompted.

  My breakfast threatened to come back up. “And...I’m going to do it.”

  I heard Gus’s sharp intake of breath. “You know Isaac’s in love with you.”

  My eyes flew to his. In love? God, I didn’t deserve his love.

  “You’ve got to make this right, Dante. The boy loves you, and you’re going to break his heart.”

  I swallowed bile. “I don’t know how.”

  “Yes, you do. Leaving now will hurt a lot less than leaving later. If you’re determined to do as your parents want you to and marry that girl, you have to let Isaac go.”

  I stared off into space, the words Not now. Not yet loud in my mind.

  But you’ve known all along you’d have to do it. This has gone on too long, and you’re hurting Isaac.

  “He’ll be crushed,” I said, seeing it with a new clarity.

  “I’ll be here to pick up the pieces. It’s better for you to stay out of his life from now on. Entirely. I mean it, Dante.” The old man looked serious as shit, and I inwardly cringed at the mess I’d made. I’d entered a sexual relationship with someone I dearly cared about, knowing it couldn’t be anything more, and now I was going to have to end it abruptly and finally.

  I ran my hands through my hair.

  “I don’t know how to do it,” I said miserably.

  “Do it so he knows there’s no turning back. I know you care about him. Don’t leave him twisting in the wind. You’ve had your fun, Dante, now make this right.”

  I took my time walking back to Isaac’s, feeling as though I was headed for my execution. What a pig I was, half of me dreading what I was going to have to do and the other half wondering if just one more time would hurt anything. My body craved Isaac, and it was going to be difficult to let him go. I was addicted to him, an as with all addictions, I needed to go cold turkey. I was only making it harder on myself and hurting Isaac more in the long run, so I’d better fucking rein myself in.

  Pulling together the Dante everyone knew so well, I entered the house. Isaac came downstairs wearing only a pair of pajama pants. He looked sweet, and gorgeous and suddenly very vulnerable, and I suddenly realized I couldn’t let him make a connection to me talking with Gus and what was about to go down. Here I’d psyched myself up to end it fast, and I couldn’t do it that way.

  Isaac’s brow creased with worry. “What did Gus want? Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine, and it’s a little close to Christmas to be asking questions like that.” I stalked him up the stairs like a panther after prey, regretting our last time had to be like this.

  Isaac backed up then laughed and took off running, stumbling on the stairs and barely escaping my pounce before heading down the hall to the bedroom. I easily caught him and pinned him to the bed, thinking, This is the last time I’ll get to touch him. The very last time.

  Isaac met my mouth half-way, and we kissed deeply. Despite just having me pummel him an hour earlier, he was eager. As I stripped him, I thought of the lonely years ahead with a girl I didn’t love in my bed. Then Isaac’s hands were all over me, and I couldn’t think anymore. I curled his legs until his knees touched his ears and licked and sucked until his sweet hole was loose and pliable, fingers twirling and plucking at his nipples as I did so. When my saliva dripped out of him and his skin was nearly raw from the scrape of my beard, I lubed up and entered him slowly. As always, the feel of Isaac’s body gripping mine made my heart stutter in my chest. We kissed as I pumped in and out of him, telling myself I had to pull away emotionally; I hadn’t meant to get this deep with him. He was my friend, and I owed it to him to end what I’d started.

  Steeling myself, I sped up my thrusts and moaned. “Fuck, Swish, you feel so fucking good.”

  The confused look that flashed over Isaac’s face tore me up. Bending my head so I wouldn’t have to see it, I fucked him harder, until my limbs hurt and the pain in my heart spread, mingling with the release building up inside me.

  “Dante, Dante,” Isaac cried, fingers digging into my shoulders as he thrashed, unfurling beneath me as his climax built. “Oh, Chri-i-st.”

  Knowing this was the end, a part of me wanted to slow things down, but it all felt too good, and I spiraled upward, sinking my teeth into Isaac’s shoulder when my climax crashed over me.

  Isaac sobbed, jerking beneath me, dick pulsing between us. I continued pumping like a maniac, unable to stop as pleasure continued to pulsate through me. When I finally stilled, and my eyes cleared, Isaac’s blissed-out face came into focus. I couldn’t help myself; I pressed a kiss to his forehead, trying to convey my regret for what I was about to do. Gently, I withdrew and collapsed beside him on the bed.

  I was still breathing unevenly when Isaac began sucking kisses along my neck, licking up the sweat on my skin.

  I grunted. “Don’t expect more. You’ve killed me.”

  Isaac chuckled and flopped onto his back. “I guess that’s what happens when you turn thirty. Thanks for the warning.”

  “Ass,” I muttered eyes drifting shut.

  Isaac curled his hand in mine, and I squeezed it, dread filling me.

  The time had come, and there was no use putting it off.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Swish

  Fucked to within an inch of my life, body more jelly than bone, I lay panting on my bed.

  I was a little rattled. Dante hadn’t called me by the old nickname in months, ever since we’d grown closer, and he’d just done it while he’d been inside me. It kind of hurt, although I told myself not to be silly; it had just been a slip of the tongue, and besides, calling me Swish didn’t mean anything. Hell, he’d called me that for two years.

  Still, it had been a blunt reminder of how little what we were doing meant to Dante, and that hurt more than I liked to admit.

  Dante lay beside me staring up at the ceiling, quietly catching his breath.

  Wanting to push away the gloomy mood that had settled over me, I asked, “Hey, what are your plans for Christmas? I’m going to cook at Gus’s, and the club’s coming again. Stop by if you can.”

  Dante glanced at me, lashes thick and dark around the brilliant blue. He stretched with a satisfied groan.

  “I’m gonna be out of town.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t expected that, but maybe Dante had extended family outside the city. I realized I still didn’t know much about him.

  Dante rubbed at the scruff on his face. “Felicity and I are flying out to Aspen to meet some friends. Her uncle has a chalet there.”

  Dante kept talking, but my mind drowned him out.

  Dante was going to Aspen with the girl he called FB-B because of her pretentious name? The one in the pictures that his parents want him to be with? He’d said he wasn’t exactly with her. Exactly. What did that mean?

  I looked at him where he lay leisurely running his fingers over the ripples of his abs. His long cock lay limp and still slick with lube on his thigh.

  “Should be a lot of fun,” Dante said, clueless to me unraveling right beside him. But that was Dante—carefree and cavalier. I knew that.

  He chuckled. “I haven’t been skiing in
years. Hope it’s like riding a bike, or I might come back with a broken leg.”

  “Are your parents going, too?” I asked, clinging to the hope that the trip might not be what it sounded like it was.

  Dante began picking the dried cum out of the hairs on his belly. My cum. I couldn’t help the feeling he was picking me out of his life as well, even though I knew...had known all along...

  “Hell, no. Felicity wants it to be just the two of us. Her friends are staying at another chalet. She’s got all kinds of shit planned. You know how chicks are.”

  “Not really,” I murmured.

  Dante sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, and I found myself staring at the broad, tanned expanse of his back. I wanted to reach out and run my hand down the length of his spine, but I resisted, no longer feeling I had the right. How could things have changed so quickly?

  I pulled the sheet over my body, the previously warm room suddenly feeling very cold. I watched Dante’s perfect ass as he strode around the room collecting his clothes. My body still burned from having him inside me, and he was already past it, thinking about his upcoming trip.

  Had I really believed Dante might be changing? Had having his dick in me washed my brain clean of all sense?

  Dante fucked and left. It’s what he did, and I’d gone into this knowing that. The fact that he kept coming back to me wasn’t because I was more important than the others; it was because we were friends, and I’d been available.

  “I guess this had better be the last time, kid.” Even though Dante was just confirming my thoughts, his words still felt like a knife to the gut. He slipped his pants over his slim hips and fastened them. “I’ve been thinking about giving Felicity an engagement ring on this trip. Perfect, romantic time, don’t you think?”

  I sat up, heart stuttering in my chest. “Y-you’re going to ask her to marry you? But you don’t want to get married!”

  Dante shrugged as though marrying a woman he didn’t love didn’t matter. “That’s the way it’s done in my world.”

  “Not your world, your parents’ world,” I reminded him.

  When he met my eyes, his were so serious, I caught my breath. “It’s my world, too, Swish. I’ve just been avoiding it. Besides, it’s time. I’m thirty, right? Got my life on the right track. My folks expect a couple of grandkids running around before they’re too old to spoil them.”

  A wave of grief swallowed me. He was retreating right before my eyes. Although I’d known it would come sooner or later, I hadn’t imagined it would be like this. Dante wasn’t just letting go of the intimacy we’d shared, he was reverting back to the way it had been before, when I’d lived in the clubhouse.

  Dante finished dressing.

  Anger edged away the hurt. “So that’s it, huh? You’re done fucking me, so now I’m Swish again? You’re gonna go back to ignoring me like you did when I lived with you?”

  I jumped off the bed and grabbed my clothes from the floor. I felt Dante’s gaze on me as I pulled my shirt over my head. I started to pull on my jeans without underwear, but then thought better of it. Grabbing a pair of white satin panties from the drawer, I slipped them on first. Dante remained silent, and I went downstairs, jeans in hand.

  In the kitchen, I pulled them on, looking around. My eyes landed on the leashes hanging by the back door.

  I heard Dante’s boots on the stairs, but I didn’t turn from where I was leashing up two of the dogs for a walk when he entered the kitchen.

  “Hey,” Dante said softly. I wanted to punch him.

  “Just leave, Dante,” I said, opening the door and stepping out onto the back porch with the dogs. It was fucking freezing, and I hadn’t put on my jacket, but I wasn’t about to turn around and go back inside to get it.

  I was several feet from my house when Dante caught up to me, my coat in his hand. “Put this on before you freeze your nuts off,” he said.

  I let him hold the leads while I slipped into the jacket, then grabbed them back and continued walking.

  “Look, I never promised—”

  “Spare me your patented speech about how we were only fucking. I’ve heard it all before.”

  Dante stared straight ahead as he walked beside me, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. In my rush to get out of the house, I’d chosen two dogs that weren’t compatible walkers. They kept tangling up the leashes because one wanted to smell every fucking blade of grass while the other was intent on racing forward, yanking my arm out of its socket in the process. Part of my anger I directed at myself, because I’d encouraged what had happened all the way, and I’d known better. And I was mad at Dante, not so much for just being himself, but for giving into his parents’ expectations. He wouldn’t be happy with that kind of life.

  The sun had set long ago, and the property was pitch dark except for the little bit of light the crescent moon supplied. We walked all the way around the lake, the dogs snuffling and snorting the only sounds other than that of distant traffic.

  By the time we made it back to my house and Dante’s car, I felt more in control of myself and determined to pick up my pride.

  Pausing at Dante’s parked car, I turned to him. Fuck, he looked right next to that fucking fancy car, and the thought that maybe I’d never known him at all hurt worse than losing him.

  “Have fun in Aspen,” I said, proud of the steadiness of my voice.

  Dante seemed torn for a second before he nodded. “Have a merry Christmas, Isa—Swish.” The car beeped as he unlocked it.

  This time I didn’t watch him drive away but turned and walked into the house.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Dante

  The Christmas party was excruciating and made worse by the knowledge I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep talking to Isaac afterward. Felicity stayed by my side the entire evening, and I knew we looked like we were getting serious. My parents seemed extraordinarily happy. That night, I kissed Felicity goodnight. A proper kiss, with tongue. She’d enthusiastically returned it, but although I held her and went through the motions, I felt nothing.

  Through the following weeks of work and boring holiday parties, I was haunted by the look on Isaac’s face—not when I’d told him it was over, but when I’d called him Swish again. I hadn’t wanted to hurt him, but it had been the only way. I’d been a selfish bastard to ever start up something with him, and I still wasn’t sure why I had done it. I went over what had happened: Isaac had announced he was moving out of the clubhouse; I’d begun to really get to know him; I’d seen him in that lace thong and realized how attracted I’d been to him; I’d given in, and Isaac being Isaac, I’d been unable to fuck him once and turn my back, as I’d done with every other person I’d been with in the past. The whole thing had seemed beyond my control.

  I bought Felicity a solitaire two carat diamond. My mother actually smiled at me when I showed it to her, and the look my father gave me was pure pride. However, unlike when he’d praised my work, this time his approval didn’t make what I was doing seem worth it. I wrapped the ring box in Christmas paper and shoved it into my suitcase.

  I didn’t hear from Isaac. Didn’t expect to hear from him. My finger hovered over my phone’s keyboard as the flight to Aspen was called over the loudspeaker, but I didn’t type anything.

  On the flight, Felicity flipped through one fashion magazine after another while I pretended to nap. She didn’t seem bothered by how quiet I was being, and for that I was glad.

  Felicity’s uncle’s chalet was luxurious and well-stocked. Felicity didn’t blink twice when I put my stuff in a separate bedroom from hers. We spent the first week skiing, visiting luxury spas and five-star restaurants, and dining with Brower and Gemma. Skiing came back to me easily, and I enjoyed all my time on the slopes. Everything else I did on autopilot.

  In such close proximity, I got to know Felicity a little better. She wasn’t as shallow as I’d first thought. Although she did spend a lot of time looking at fashion websites and magazines, I fou
nd out she was less interested in fashion than in the business behind it. She had a quick mind, and as both of us were business majors, we got into a couple of conversations concerning the designer business she wanted to start up.

  The time we spent together showed me how a relationship like ours could work. Compatibility, companionship, shared interests, and enough attraction to have a decent sex life could add up to a satisfactory marriage. The eventual addition of children would create a stronger bond that could one day turn into love. But, I kept to my story that I didn’t want to have sex before marriage, even though nothing was stopping me from hitting the sheets with Felicity. It would probably help erase the memories of what I’d done with Isaac, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  On Christmas Eve, I gave Felicity the ring. She smiled and kissed me on the cheek, and I marveled at how like the whole thing was to a business deal.

  Sitting with Felicity at dinner across from Brower and Gemma the day after Christmas, a gorgeous view of the mountains laid out before us outside the window, I was suddenly hit with the realization of how much my life had changed in a very short amount of time. I had done everything my parents had expected of me.

  When Gemma told us Brower had also proposed on the trip, our dinner conversation turned to what schools we’d choose for our not-yet-conceived children.

  “Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?” I interrupted Brower’s musings on CATS Academy in Boston.

  “You have to start early,” Gemma said. “We need an idea of what we want so that the minute our child is born, we can start the enrollment process. It’s very difficult to get into these places.”

  “I’m not sending my kid to boarding school,” I said.

  “Why not?” Brower asked. “I went to boarding school.”

  “Well, I didn’t.” I didn’t want to send my kids away to school. Just because a person is rich doesn’t mean they have to disassociate from their offspring. I’d had plenty of that growing up, and I’m pretty sure my man-whore ways as an adult had everything to do with my parents’ lack of affection where I was concerned. But, as bad as they had been, my folks hadn’t sent me off to boarding school, and I’d always been thankful for that. I’d seen the miserable, homesick looks on my peers’ faces growing up when they prepared to return to school after the holidays, and I had sworn I’d never do that to my own children.