“Sounds like a plan. Come on. I’ll show you my place.”
We enter the elevator, and once the door opens to my floor, Yessi’s jaw drops when she sees the view of the ocean.
“You actually live here? Why are you opening a puppy store? You clearly don’t need the money.”
“It’s an investment.” She rolls her eyes. “Let me give you the tour.”
I show her the kitchen, the balcony, which is enclosed by glass, and my favorite room—my bedroom.
“Well, Gidget hit the lottery. You should adopt her. She won’t take up much room. I can’t believe you don’t already have your own dog. Why don’t you have any dogs yourself?”
Good question. “My ex had a beagle, and we were going to get another dog, but we broke up. I’m going to take one of the English bulldog puppies in my store since they’re the mascots for the Marines. I definitely needed to get a dog. It would be good for my brand.”
Her jaw gapes. “Your brand? A dog is not a brand—it’s a living, breathing being. Do you know where your beautiful bullies come from? Their moms spend their lives in cages, stewing in their own feces, and then they’re sold at auction when they can no longer breed. Puppies born with any deformities are drowned.”
I wince and try to push the images of dogs suffering out of my mind. Yessi is so passionate and convincing that I’m actually beginning to doubt my business model. But I’ve already found the best breeders. There’s no way they treat their dogs like that.
Or do they?
Time to change the subject.
“So, am I approved?”
“Yeah, I guess.” She looks at her watch. “I need to get going and feed my own dogs.”
“Let’s eat first.”
“Fine.”
I set the table, pop open a beer for myself, and offer her a glass of wine.
“No, thanks. I’ll just have the Thai iced tea I ordered. They were nice enough to make it with coconut milk for me.”
Idly I wonder if she doesn’t drink, or if she just doesn’t want to drink with me. Probably the latter.
We sit at my little bistro table after I set out the food. I should hate this girl, who clearly is disgusted by my very existence, but something about her fascinates me. Most of the girls I meet these days only care about themselves. Yessi has devoted her life to caring for the voiceless. She’s different but in a good way.
I follow her gaze to the ocean. Though she’s clearly impressed by my place, she doesn’t appear to be materialistic whatsoever. I can tell that her jeans aren’t designer and she’s not wearing any expensive jewelry. Guess there’s not a lot of money in dog rescuing, but something tells me she’s okay with that.
“Does the rescue pay you for saving dogs? Like a salary?”
She laughs. “That’s hilarious. No. Not at all. It’s all volunteer. I don’t even get reimbursed for my gas, and I spend any extra money I make helping to cover medical costs. Honestly, we don’t get many donations.”
I wince. I’m going to be profiting off selling dogs, and she goes into debt to save them.
After a long lull of uncomfortable silence, she finally speaks up.
“The food was great. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She looks over at Gidget, who’s already nestled on my sofa in a ball, snoring heavily, like she belongs there. “Why are you going to the pet expo? It’s heavily focused on dog rescue—not dog flipping.”
Ouch. “Just thought it would be a good opportunity to meet vendors, maybe find an investor. Have you ever been?”
She purses her lips. “No. I’ve always wanted to go. There’s always a big rescuer symposium. I bet I could learn about how to get grants and find more fosters.”
Bingo. I push back my chair and take another swig of my beer.
“Then come with me.”
She gives a startled blink, and I’m drawn into her beautiful eyes. “You’re crazy.”
“I’m crazy serious. All-expenses-paid. You can go to your rescuer events, and I can network.”
“Why would you even want me to go with you? In case you can’t tell, I’m not a fan of you. Like, at all.”
I smirk. “I can tell. But you don’t know me, Yessi. You just think you do. I’m pretty sure if you give me a chance, you’d see that I’m a good man.”
She shakes her head. “Nope. No way.”
I honestly can’t believe she didn’t just jump at the chance to go. “Come on. We will have fun.”
“Fun? You want to take me on an all-expenses-paid vacation to Hawai’i? What’s the catch?”
She can see right through me. “Fine, I’ll be honest. My ex was supposed to help me open the store and go with me to the pet expo, but she just flaked, literally minutes before I met you. And then I found you handcuffed to my store. Perfect timing, I’d say. I checked your Instagram profile, and you have a good following. I’ll be doing a bunch of social media promotion while I’m there. You also run a dog rescue, so you’re great with dogs, and then maybe your whack-job activist friends won’t sabotage my business.”
She shifts in her chair. I probably shouldn’t have insulted her activist friends, but it’s too late to take back my words. I feel like I’ve made some progress, but I can’t tell if she’s going to agree one way or another.
“Not gonna happen Evans. But I appreciate the offer.”
What will it take for her to say yes to me? “If you help me open Doggy Style, I’ll consider stopping the sale of purebred puppies at my store, and I’ll take you to the Pet Expo. We need someone who’s good with dogs, and you know everything about them.”
“Is this just some joke to you? Your store is already full of puppies. If some random girl helps you open your store, you’ll just stop selling them? Not to mention I will never, ever sell puppy mill dogs. That’s like asking a nun to work in a strip club.”
Ha. She’s hilarious. And now I can’t help picturing her dressed as a nun, but with some sexy lingerie underneath. Just the thought makes my cock stir in my pants.
She’s obviously going to make this hard. But I know what I want.
I want Yessi to help run my store. And I want her to come to Hawai’i with me. It’s a win-win. She clearly knows a lot about dogs—probably more than my ex does—and if Yessi works with me, then she can keep other protesters off my back. The investors I have meetings scheduled with may even trust me more if they think I’m linked to a charity.
Yup, I have to make her agree. I’ll sweeten the pot.
“I’ll also make a tax-deductible donation to your rescue for twenty-five thousand dollars. Do we have a deal?”
At first, her eyes widen, but then she rolls them and scoffs. “Are you serious? You can’t just buy people. And I can’t take money from you. I’m not one of those thirsty girls on your Instagram who will hop into your bed when you send them an emoji.”
I’m digging this chick more and more. Every time she tells me no, it just makes the hunt that much sweeter. “Look, it’s up to you. I’m opening the store with the purebred puppies we already have. I can’t return them at this point. But I could possibly be swayed to stop using breeders in the future and to feature shelter dogs instead. You could show me how.”
She runs a hand through her hair and looks to the ceiling as if she’s searching for answers. At least she’s finally considering my offer. I need something else to entice her, though twenty-five thousand dollars should be incentive enough. But Yessi seems to be motivated by more than just money.
I think for a second, and then I throw her another bone.
“How many dogs do you have in your rescue?”
“Twenty overall. I have six fosters, Avril has seven, and Eden, our other partner, has four. Then there are three at the vet.”
Damn, that’s a lot of dogs. “Tell you what. I’ll make you a deal—you help me open the store, and I’ll let you host adoption events there for all twenty of your rescue dogs. For the opening, you can bring all of them, includ
ing Gidget, and we’ll showcase them. But if you say no, then I guess I’ll see you protesting daily. I’ll even bring you coffee. Do you like it black or do you like pretty latte art?”
She scowls but answers me anyway. “Black, unless you have oat milk.”
What the fuck is oat milk? Right, she’s vegan.
She sizes me up, and I can see she’s seriously contemplating saying yes.
“I’ll find you some oat milk, Yessi. Hell, I’ll make it myself if I have to.”
Her eyes focus on me, and then she looks away. “This is crazy. You could find someone else to help you. You barely know the first thing about me.”
“I know enough. I admire your passion. You love dogs. And I’d like to spend some more time getting to know you. So is that a yes?”
“No. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m a tattoo artist. I can’t get that much time off, and I can’t afford to lose my job.”
A tattoo artist? Man, she’s my dream girl. “Valid point. Do you like your tattoo shop?”
She shrugs. “It’s okay. The owner’s kind of a jerk, but it’s fine for now. One day, I want to open my own shop with vegan ink.”
Vegan ink? I have plenty of tattoos, and I’ve never once heard of vegan ink. “Well, my Marine Corps buddy has a shop a few blocks away from my store. I’m not sure if his ink is vegan, but I’m sure you can bring your own. I can get you a job there after my store opens. Or I can give you a job at Doggy Style. I’ll double your salary.”
“I don’t have a pet-sitter for my own dogs, and I won’t be able to find a foster to take in the others. I just can’t.”
In the Marine Corps, I learned how to solve any obstacle that was placed in my way. She wants to take my offer—I just need to make it easy for her. “How many dogs do you have at your place?”
Her eyes narrow, and she bites her bottom lip.
“You can tell me. I’m not animal control.”
“Eleven,” she whispers and looks down at her sandals.
I study her toenails—they’re painted electric purple and have black rhinestones on them. My mouth waters. I know she has a freaky side that I can’t wait to discover.
“But five are my own dogs.”
I must really be desperate for her help because I can’t believe the next words that come out of my mouth. “You can bring all eleven to the store—we have plenty of kennels. That way, we can get them ready for the grand opening. We can feature them. But you have to say yes.”
She frowns, but something about the look in her eyes suggests she’s now strongly leaning toward saying yes.
“Would I have to hang out with you in Hawai’i?”
“Yes, at least for a little bit. A luxury hotel is paying for me to go and promote them on my Instagram. We’ll have to dine at their restaurants, use their spa, relax on their beach, snorkel, and swim with dolphins.”
Her jaw drops. “Dolphins? Abused dolphins in captivity forced to pose for pictures with tourists? I’d rather stick a fork in my eyeball. Not going to happen.”
I shake my head. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. I wish I were as passionate about something in my life as she is though. That kind of enthusiasm’s been sorely lacking in my life as of late. “We can get out of the dolphin swimming. I’ll switch that activity out for something else. How do you feel about surfing?”
“Don’t know, never tried it. I can’t even swim.”
What? She lives in Southern California. How can she not swim? “I can teach you how to swim.”
“What about sex?”
Now we’re talking, baby. Well, at least we’re finally on the same page. I lower my voice to a whisper and lick my lips. “Babe, sex can definitely be included. In fact, I’ll fuck your brains out right now for a preview.”
Her cheeks color with a bright blush. “Not what I meant. I’m not going to have sex with you. If I agree to help you with the opening, it’s only because you’ve agreed to showcase all the dogs in our rescue on opening day. And we could really use that donation. And the expo is supposed to be incredible. But I don’t want to owe you anything. I’m not going to sleep with you. Ever.”
We’ll see about that. “Fine, sex is off the table. So, do we have a deal? Say you’ll come with me, Yessi.” I can’t wait to hear her scream my name.
She fidgets and takes a deep breath, finally shaking her head. “No, Preston. I can’t. I would love to go to the pet expo, and we could really use the cash, but working at a puppy store goes against everything I believe. Thanks for the offer though.”
Fuck. I thought I had her. I was so close. But I’m not leaving for two days, so I’m still in the fight.
“Fine, I understand.” I pause and replay our conversation in my head. “Let me get your number just in case I have any questions about Gidget. Then you can go home.”
We exchange numbers, she bids goodbye to Gidget, and we exit my place. I drop her off in front of her car.
“Good night, Yessi. Nice to meet you.”
“Good night, Preston. Thanks again for taking Gidget.”
She scrambles into her car and then drives away from the store.
But I know she’s still thinking about Hawai’i. And me. And I know that despite herself, she will agree to go with me.
Time to pack.
Chapter Five
Yessi
As my car races down the street, I try to process what just happened. Did Preston Evans really invite me to Hawai’i? And even worse, did I just say no?
Of course, I did. I’m a responsible, rational, and practical woman. I don’t even know the guy.
Well, actually, that’s not true.
I hate to admit it, but I know way more than I should about Preston Evans. I wouldn’t say I’ve stalked him per se, but it’s true that I follow him on Instagram. And Snapchat. Images flood my mind of him posing shirtless in Ibiza, his muscles glistening from the saltwater, his huge tattooed arms flexing for the camera, his incredibly defined abs shining in the sunlight. Just picturing his body makes me want to drop to my knees and suck his cock.
Speaking of his cock, it’s as perfect as its owner. It’s been screenshot and posted everywhere. Long, thick, and juicy.
And that video of his? Damn. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t watched it. Initially, it was due to morbid curiosity on my part. His ex, Kira Morgan, is a reality superstar and a celebrity yoga instructor. She’s also absolutely stunning. But despite her star power, Preston definitely stole the show. He’s a dirty-talker—dominant and delicious. Though the snap was only ten seconds, an extended version was leaked to all major porn sites. Usually, I detest porn, so instead, I indulge in erotica. The men in the porn I’d previously watched were always so vile, disrespectful, and self-centered, not caring if the women they were with got off, so long as they got theirs.
But not Preston.
What turned me on most wasn’t the voyeuristic aspect. No, it was the way he fucked her. It wasn’t like any other porn I’ve ever seen. Or any sex I’ve ever experienced. As cocky as Preston was, he was one hundred percent about Kira. Fully focused on her pleasure, and in absolutely no rush at all. He was determined to make her come—which she did—again and again. Hell, I’ll never admit it to him, but he’s already been responsible for one of the most intense orgasms of my life.
And damn, that boy ate her pussy like a champ. Still, it was so much more than that—he looked at her like he loved her like she was the only woman in the world for him. I think back to earlier tonight when he told Gidget’s bastard owner that he had loved Kira. The tabloids reported he had dumped her after the release of the video, furious she had gone behind his back and exploited their personal life for her quest for fame. But who knows if that’s even true?
All I know is that when I watched his video, I wondered what it would be like to have a man look at me the way Preston looked at her. No one’s ever looked at me like that before. Envy consumed me when I watched him fuck her. I wanted to be Kira.
But
I’m nothing like that fame whore.
I grab my phone and dial Avril.
“Hello?”
“Hey. You won’t believe what happened to me.”
“Oh god, no. What did you do? Did you save another Chi? You’d better not say you did, because I might literally have to kill you in that case.”
“No, no. Not that. I was driving down Main Street, and I saw Doggy Style. Like, the lights in the signs were gleaming, beckoning people to buy these puppy mill dogs. And I don’t know what happened, Avril. I lost it. I pulled over and handcuffed myself to the door.”
She lets out a laugh. “Good for you. Did you get arrested? Am I your one phone call?”
Wouldn’t be the first time. “No. It was even worse.”
“What’s worse than getting arrested?”
“Meeting Preston Evans.”
A squeal radiates through the phone. “Oh my god, shut up, girl! Is he even hotter in person? Did you fuck him? Tell me you fucked him.”
“What the fuck, Avril? No, I didn’t fuck him. We hate him, remember? Just a few hours ago you were talking about burning down his store, and now you want to know how hot he is?”
“I didn’t say I think he’s a good person. But he’s literally the hottest man ever. Have you seen his video? Forget his war medals; he should get a gold medal for fucking.”
I shake my head. Avril is always down to fuck. I wish I had her confidence and her game. She could stroll into a bar and walk up to the hottest man, and straight-up ask him to go home with her without a second thought. And she never gets attached, though they all fall in love with her. All the while I sit at the bar drinking all night, drowning my sorrows, and whining to the bartender.
“Well, to answer your question, yes, he’s gorgeous, even hotter in person. He kind of has this Elvis Presley meets Zac Efron vibe going on. But he’s an arrogant prick.” I pause, still in shock from what he has asked me. Even more shocked that I said no like an idiot. “And get this, he invited me to go to Hawai’i with him the day after tomorrow for the pet expo.”
Avril squeals. “Shut up! You bitch! Why does this shit never happen to me?”
Doggy Style Page 4