Doggy Style

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Doggy Style Page 7

by Albertson, Alana


  As much as I want a whiskey to take the edge off, POG always reminds me of my childhood. “I’ll take the POG, please.”

  “What’s POG?” Yessi asks me.

  “Passion fruit, orange, and guava juice. It’s good. Try it.”

  “I’ll have that, too, please.”

  The stewardess walks away, and I turn my attention to the passengers boarding. I can’t stop myself from surveying every person on this plane. I’m not sure if it’s PTSD or just my training in the Corps, but I always imagine everyone I see as a potential threat. I like to be in control at all times. I hate being trapped on a plane over the ocean, completely at the mercy of the pilot, the weather, and the passengers. I don’t trust TSA to keep me safe.

  A screen drops down in front of us, and a short clip plays of some beautiful Hawaiian girls dancing the Hula to traditional Hawaiian music. I get it—Hawai’i is nothing more than a tropical vacation to most people, but to me, it will always be my home.

  “So, did you grow up in Hawai’i?”

  I relax into my seat and feel the warmth of her leg pressed against mine. “Yup. I was born in Washington state, but my father got stationed in Hawai’i with the Navy when I was five. I lived there until I was twelve, and then he was given orders to Illinois. But I consider Hawai’i my home. I love the food, the culture, the people. Someday, I would like to move back there, maybe buy some property. When I was in the Marines, I was stationed at Kāne‘ohe Bay, which is on my favorite part of the island.”

  “Wow, that’s so cool. I’ve never even left the state before, but I’ve always wanted to travel.” A wistful expression crosses her face.

  I can’t help myself. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

  She blushes. “Do you always just go full force after what you want? I don’t get it. Am I some game to you? This can’t all be just because I said no to you.”

  She’s right. It’s not. But I’m not going to open my heart to her—yet. I’m very clear in my head about what I want. I’m insanely attracted to her, plus I’m fascinated by her. But I realize I don’t know her at all. “You intrigue me. It’s been a long time since anyone has surprised me. Most women I meet are so superficial. I’m impressed by how passionate you are about your rescue.” And you have the most incredible ass I’ve ever seen. But I keep that to myself.

  “Yeah, well, they’re probably smarter than me. I should be building my career, but I’m broke as a joke. I’m sick of struggling. I don’t need much beyond my living expenses, but the dogs in our rescue cost so much money. We just paid nineteen hundred dollars for this sheltie’s double luxating patella surgery, and we still owe our vet twelve hundred of the balance of the rest of the bills for our other dogs. We spend eight hundred dollars per dog on average, but we adopt each dog out for two hundred fifty, seniors for two hundred. So we’re generally operating at a net loss. And there are always more dogs. It never ends—it’s so depressing. Sometimes I wonder if I’m even making a difference or if I’m just running around like a hamster on a wheel.” She looks so defeated.

  “I can’t believe you’re even saying that. You saved all those dogs. You’re totally making a difference.”

  She doesn’t respond. The plane pulls back from the gate and taxis to the runway. Yessi bites her lip, and I can tell she’s nervous. A thought occurs to me.

  “Have you ever flown before?”

  “No,” she reluctantly admits, and her breathing is picking up.

  I grab her hand. As the plane takes off, she squeezes my hand tightly. She turns her head toward me, and I meet her gaze. After an intense moment, she looks away.

  Once we reach our cruising altitude, we recline our seats. I’m enjoying this forced intimacy. I realize how fucked up my life has been lately. As pathetic as it sounds, I haven’t spent this much time with a woman recently without sleeping with her. Even our kiss was incredibly special. I usually only kiss right before I have sex. Enjoying the intimacy of just a kiss is nice.

  “How’d you get into the rescuing?”

  She exhales, and a pained look takes over her beautiful face. “I saw a post on Facebook a few years back with this picture of a pug mix. I lived right near the shelter, and a rescue was asking someone to go pull the dog and take him to their vet. Seemed easy enough. But at the shelter, I saw the faces of a bunch of little doggies. There was this one, a Chihuahua. Had the cutest little whiskers.”

  She gulps, and I feel guilty for asking her this question.

  “Anyway, I pulled the dog I was supposed to get and brought him to the vet. But I couldn’t forget about the Chi. The next day, I found out that they had killed him.” She looks out the window toward the clouds. “And I’ll never forget his little face. I could’ve saved him, but I did nothing. That’s how I started. And now, I can’t quit. It’s like the mafia, except we’re all broke and our fur coats are made of dog hair.”

  A lump grows in my throat. I had no idea how bad the local shelters were. Hugh told me he’d done a ton of research and that they only killed sick and unadoptable dogs, and I’d trusted him. I was focused more on marketing and branding, but that’s no excuse.

  I should’ve paid more attention to where we found our dogs. The dogs we’ve received from the breeders seem to be healthy.

  But I never saw their mothers.

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea how bad the shelters are. But you know you can always offer your dogs up for adoption at our store.”

  She narrows her eyes at me and raises her voice. “I appreciate that, but that’s not enough. You have to stop selling puppies, Preston. Our dogs can’t compete with yours. Your store could be this amazing shelter-dog rescue center. You can save so many lives.”

  I nod my head but refuse to commit to anything just yet. It’s not that simple. I have to make a profit from this store. I need to run some numbers and create a new business plan. And I know that I’m up for a fight with Hugh if I go this route. I don’t want to make a promise to Yessi I can’t make good on. Hugh would say, “Don’t let your cock make promises that you can’t keep.”

  Her face glows with hope, but guilt crashes over me.

  Will I be able to keep the business sustainable if we just adopted out rescue dogs instead of selling purebreds? I can sell a purebred goldendoodle for three thousand dollars. Adopting out a dog for two hundred and fifty dollars definitely won’t pay the bills.

  But I still have a couple of weeks to figure it out. Get some more information from her and present it to Hugh. Deep down, I know he’s a good guy, even if he is a little rough around the edges. He should do the right thing.

  She excuses herself to use the bathroom, and I can’t help thinking about how much I would love to finally indulge in my fantasy of joining the mile-high club.

  Maybe I’ll get to on our flight home.

  She returns to her seat a few minutes later and smiles at me. “Do you mind if I take a nap? I’m so exhausted. I was up all night with the dogs, trying to get all their stuff together, plus packing for myself.”

  “Not at all. We’ve got hours before we land. Make yourself comfortable.”

  She props a pillow against the window, curls her tight little body up into a ball and closes her eyes. Within five minutes, she’s out cold, her breath going in and out in slow beats.

  I’m dying to rub her sexy little feet, make her moan with ecstasy.

  But I need to go slow with this girl. She doesn’t seem to be the type to get swept off her feet by romance.

  Guess there is only one thing I can do.

  Make her see that I’m more than a jerk with a sex tape.

  Chapter Nine

  Yessi

  Fear threatens to take over my mind as our plane starts to make its descent for landing. Against my better judgment, I reach over and grip Preston’s arm. He smiles back at me and calmly squeezes my hand, his touch warm and reassuring.

  I gaze out the plane’s window and marvel at the breathtaking tropical island slowly coming into view
. The ocean is clear, deep, and bright and the lush foliage paints a stunning landscape.

  For a moment anxiety fills my chest, and I ponder the possibility of our plane plummeting into the ocean. I’ve read that statistically, you’re more likely to get into a car accident than a plane crash, but that fact is doing little to reassure me now. I feel the plane start to shake and rumble beneath my feet, and I look around, alarmed. Preston notes my sudden distress, taking my hand in his again and leaning over to tell me it’s just the landing gear making that noise. My cheeks color with a blush at my ignorance, but Preston doesn’t tease me, and he lets me squeeze his hand as hard as I can as the plane lands.

  When our plane finally touches down, I exhale. I drop Preston’s hand and wait for the plane to pull into the gate.

  But even though we’re safe on land, my nerves are still on high alert. I’m now trapped on an island with a man I barely know.

  Preston stands up and retrieves my bag from the overhead compartment. “Ready to go, babe?”

  Babe. Those words seem foreign to my ears, but I just roll with it. “Yup.”

  We disembark and gather the rest of our luggage from baggage claim. A short man dressed in a tuxedo greets us with a sign with Preston’s name on it, and the man places a lei around my neck. The fragrant scent of plumeria tickles my nostrils, and I start to look forward to this trip. Avril’s always saying I need to loosen up, so I’ll do my best to relax and go with the flow instead of needing to obsessively plan every little detail.

  The driver leads us to a limo parked in the terminal. I immediately grab my phone and text Avril.

  Yessi: Hey. Just landed.

  I don’t expect to hear from her right away but am shocked when she replies immediately.

  Avril: Did you join the mile-high club? Are you drunk on Mai Tais?

  I laugh. No matter what, I can always count on Avril to be consistent.

  Yessi: Nope, but I had some pretty strong POG. I’ll text you when we check into the hotel.

  As the limousine pulls out of the airport, relief washes over me, and it’s not just from the tropical breeze. I’m on vacation—I’m actually in Hawai’i, a place I never thought I’d be able to visit. And Preston has made this dream, one I once thought of as impossible, come true.

  The silence between Preston and me is awkward, and, at this moment, I attempt to open up my heart. Still, I question his motivations.

  I move closer to him on the back seat and allow myself to really look at him. His incredible muscles are visible underneath his shirt, and the bottom of a tattoo peeks out from his sleeve. Since I’ve already seen him naked in his video, I know precisely what that particular tattoo is—an eagle, globe, and anchor against the backdrop of an American flag.

  I also know that he’s seriously packing a seriously huge cock under his shorts, but I try not to think about it, and focus instead on the tattoo.

  “Who did the ink?”

  He pulls up his sleeve, and I examine the tattoo like I’ve never seen it before, even though I drooled over him shirtless in his store earlier today. “Actually, a place down here in Honolulu. The guy is excellent.” He gives me an admiring glance and adds, “You have some pretty badass ink yourself.”

  “Thanks. I designed this one myself, but my friend at work actually inked it,” I say, pointing to the Catrina on my arm. “That’s the kind of work I do. I’ve been getting into watercolor tattoos lately.”

  “It’s beautiful. You’re really talented.”

  His phone beeps, and he looks down. I watch as his eyes rapidly scan the screen. After taking a deep breath, he throws down his phone and clenches his fist. He quickly turns his head and looks out the window.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He just shakes his head.

  I don’t know what to do. I recognize the look of pain on his face as one I know intimately. He’s just received some bad news.

  I place my hand on his thigh. “Hey, what happened?”

  He places his own hand over mine, and my heart rate accelerates. “My dad.”

  A lump gathers in my throat. “Is he okay?”

  Preston laughs bitterly. “Yup, he’s fine. He just wants nothing to do with me.”

  Damn. “I’m so sorry, Preston, that’s awful.” I’m not going to lie and tell him that I relate, because I can’t. No one ever cared enough about me to hate me. In a way, sometimes I think it’s better that I’ve never loved or been loved at all.

  Not by any humans, at least.

  We pass by a beautiful beach, but I’m focused on Preston. “What happened between you two?”

  He grits his teeth. “He’s barely spoken to me since that tape was released. He thinks I leaked it on purpose to become famous.”

  “But you didn’t, right?”

  “Right. Kira denies leaking it, but I don’t believe her. Who else would’ve done it? I mean, she’s always wanted to be the next Kim Kardashian.”

  I roll my eyes. “Well, that’s one way to do it.”

  “I know. That sounds bad, but she isn’t horrible. She’s a wonderful woman. We just weren’t right for each other.”

  I’m impressed that he isn’t bad-mouthing his ex like most men I’ve met do. “Why?”

  “She just wanted a different life than the one I wanted. She wants to be super famous. It was out of control. She won’t be happy until she’s queen.”

  Wow. “Judging by your Instagram, I thought you wanted to be famous, too. I mean, why would you date someone who was in the public eye if you didn’t want to be in it?”

  He shakes his head. “It wasn’t like that at all. I didn’t know who she was when I first met her. I’d been deployed in Iraq and didn’t watch much television. I came back, and she was teaching yoga for vets with PTSD. I just thought she was hot. I didn’t know that she’d been on a reality show. She was really great to me. She helped me through some tough times, and I loved her. But I just want a simple life. No drama. Financial success from hard work, not by exploiting my personal life. A passionate relationship that’s just for my partner and me, not for the world to see.”

  I hang on the word simple. My life has always been anything but simple. Chaotic, busy, uncertain, and heartbreaking. Definitely not simple. “That sounds like bliss.”

  He smiles at me. “Bliss? Sure, I think so, but most girls don’t. You’re nothing like the type of girls I usually date. Don’t get me wrong—you’re beautiful, of course, but you don’t seem to be remotely impressed by my money.”

  “I’m impressed with your work ethic, but I also think you care more about the bottom line than about doing what’s right. We’ve already established you’re hot, but your looks don’t blind me to your faults.” Well, that’s kind of a lie. He’s so sexy that I’m dying to fuck him, but he doesn’t need to know that.

  “My father would like you, Yessi. I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but you remind me of him. You’re passionate and intelligent and not afraid to stand up for what you believe in.”

  “Does he live here?”

  “Yup. My mom wanted to come back here after he retired and got out of the service. But it doesn’t matter. He won’t see me. I thought . . .” Preston doesn’t finish his sentence and looks toward the ocean.

  An ache grips my chest—my father didn’t want to see me, either. Not when I was born, when I was a little girl, not ever.

  I turn toward Preston, but his head is still facing out the window. I touch his cheek and gently turn his head to look at me. “You should see him. I’ll go with you.”

  He tilts his head toward me, and for a moment I think he’s going to kiss me again. Our breath mingles in the air, and my heartbeat accelerates. I lick my lower lip in anticipation.

  Our lips meet, and unlike our first kiss, we’re in no rush and have no audience for this one, well except the limo driver. Preston’s hand gently caresses my body as our mouths connect. I lose myself in him, in this moment, and completely allow myself to be present. No more str
essing about the future or the past but just enjoying our bond.

  After we finally separate, I lower my window. But I’m no longer present. Instead, I’m wondering what kind of future I could have with Preston. I finally exhale and allow my doubt to blow away with the cool Hawaiian breeze.

  Chapter Ten

  Preston

  Our limo turns toward the hotel, driving down a street lined with palm trees. My chest aches and I try to brush away the disappointment at my father refusing to see me. Why won’t he believe me that I didn’t purposely leak that tape? I’ve told him the truth many times. Ever since it was released, I’ve pleaded with him to forgive me—to no avail.

  At least I’m making progress with Yessi. I think she genuinely likes me. And I’m crazy about her. I’m excited to get to know her during this trip.

  The hotel comes into sight, and I start fantasizing about spending some time with Yessi tonight. Maybe she’ll loosen up after knocking back a few drinks with me. Before I can even run down the list of bars I think she might like, the limo screeches to a halt.

  “Damn dog,” the driver yells as a stray limps down the street.

  Ah, fuck.

  “Dog?” Yessi immediately asks, perking up and craning her head out of the window. “What dog?”

  “Just some poi dog,” he says nonchalantly as he resumes driving.

  She sits up straighter, trying to peer through the windshield now, looking this way and that. “What’s a poi dog? Is he hurt? Where did he go?”

  So much for my chances of getting Yessi to drink with me tonight. I exhale and tell her what I know. “A poi dog is a stray dog. He just ran off down that alley.”

  Yessi’s bites her lips. “Did you hit him with the limo? Stop the car!” She turns to me and touches my shoulder. “We have to find him. He could be hurt. Or lost.”

 

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