Doggy Style

by Albertson, Alana

I quickly realize there’s no way Yessi is going to give up until she finds the dog. “Sir, can you let us off here? Just drop our bags off at the Kahala under my name.”

  The limo driver turns his head with a disbelieving expression like I just asked him to drive off a cliff. “You two are seriously going to chase after some feral dog? Relax. Check into the Kahala. Enjoy your vacation. Forget about that mutt.”

  At that remark, Yessi explodes. “I love mutts! Every dog has a soul and deserves love. Stop this car at once!”

  He slams on his brakes. I slap a hundred-dollar bill into the guy’s hand, confirm my name for the reservation, and chase after Yessi, who’s already opened the door and left the limo.

  “Yessi, wait,” I say as I’m running down the sidewalk.

  But she doesn’t stop. She’s wandering in and out of traffic, peering into alleyways, searching frantically for the dog. We make our way to a sidewalk, and she jumps up and down, trying to see over the cars.

  “Did you get a look at him?”

  I shake my head. “Barely. He’s a big dog. Dingy white coat and pretty skinny.” I hold her in my arms. “I’m sure someone else found him. Let’s just get to the hotel.”

  She squirms out of my grip. “Don’t you get it? That poor dog is out here alone and scared, and you just want to start your vacation? Fuck you, Preston! You can go to the hotel without me.”

  Her deep brown eyes are glossy with unshed tears. Why is saving every dog so important to her?

  “I’m not going to leave you here alone. Let’s go find the dog.”

  I grab her hand and start running up the sidewalk, back to where our limo first stopped when the dog ran past. Drivers are honking, and smog cloaks the tropical air.

  My eyes search the streets, the sidewalk, the alleys for the dog. And in my fog, I’m brought back to Iraq. The hazy air and the smell of exhaust confuse me, and instead of scouring the landscape for a stray, I’m scanning it for insurgents. My fingers shake, and my breath comes in spurts. Sweat drips from my forehead, and I begin to lose touch with reality. Mortars whistle and gunshots ring in my head. I try to shake myself out of it, but I’m frozen in time.

  Yessi’s voice pierces through my flashback. “I found him!”

  I shake myself off, wipe the sweat from my brow, and run over to her, grateful that she was so focused on finding the dog that she didn’t witness my PTSD episode. It would be another reason for her to be afraid of me. The real me.

  I find Yessi curled up in the alleyway, cornering a sad-looking pit bull.

  I exhale deeply and take a moment to try and remember the man I was back in Iraq. A man who would gladly lay down his life for his country and for his friends, and I feel a pang in my chest.

  I’m no longer that selfless. I’m no longer that man. What happened to me?

  Yessi cautiously starts walking closer to the dog, who is filthy and sporting a tail that has some open wounds. I also notice some blood on his ribs, and he seems to be favoring one paw. I wonder if he was hit by a car.

  I put my hand out to stop Yessi from touching him. “What are you doing? You don’t know that dog. He could be vicious.”

  She laughs at me. “Are you afraid of this dog, Preston? He’s obviously hurt.”

  “No, I’m not afraid of him, but he could attack you. We should call animal control and let them deal with it.”

  She shoots me an angry look. “Are you insane? In case you can’t tell because you don’t know shit about dogs, he’s a pit bull. And he’s injured. Animal control will put him down without a second thought. We need to take him to a vet. If he’s not chipped, then we can get him healthy and figure out how to get him back to the mainland, and I can take him into the rescue. He’s skinny and obviously neglected. I’m sure he’s a stray.”

  There’s no use arguing with her. “We don’t have a leash, or a cage, or a car for that matter. How exactly do you think we’re going to get him to a vet?”

  “He’s backed into an alleyway. I don’t think he’ll dart past me if I don’t get too close. Go buy a hamburger and a dog collar and leash. I’ll wait with him here. We passed a pet store a few blocks back.”

  Unbelievable.

  “Fine, I’ll be right back. Call me if anything happens.”

  “We’ll be fine. But make it quick, okay?”

  I run up the sidewalk, searching for the store she mentioned. The Hawaiian humidity drenches my shirt. At least Yessi doesn’t seem to care whether or not I look Instagram worthy. Not many girls would spend the first moments of their vacation trying to save a stray. And every girl I’ve dated since Kira has immediately taken a picture of me to post on social media. Not Yessi. Maybe she’s embarrassed by me.

  I finally reach the pet store and buy a large collar, a leash, and a water bowl. Once I pay, I stop at McDonald’s and buy a plain hamburger and two bottles of water.

  Making it back to the alleyway, my jaw drops when I see Yessi petting the pit bull, who is now nestled in her lap.

  Lucky dog—I wish my head were between Yessi’s thighs. Maybe later tonight. “Wow, you truly are the dog whisperer.”

  “He’s a sweetie. But he isn’t fixed. His ears are smelly, also, and he has some type of skin condition. Possibly mange but at least it looks to be demodectic instead of sarcoptic.”

  Wow—she can diagnose dogs, too. I give the dog the hamburger, which he gobbles up. I can see his ribs, and my throat tightens. A wave of guilt washes over me.

  I’m starting to understand why Yessi is so angry with my store. Like Yessi said, this poor neglected dog would be killed immediately by the shelter. Just like my foster dog, Gidget would be. Everyone wants cute puppies, like the ones I’m selling.

  And every time someone buys one of the dogs in my store, a dog like this pit bull dies.

  I kneel next to the dog and put on his collar and leash. He doesn’t resist, and instead, gives me a sloppy kiss.

  Yessi smiles and her chest heaves under her shirt. “He’s so lucky we found him.”

  She leans closer to me, and I breathe her in. She smells spicy, yet sweet. I imagine sucking on her nipples, watching her hair cascade down her chest, making her come…

  I brush the hair back from her face. “And I’m so lucky that I found you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Yessi

  Preston hails a cab as I pet the sweet pittie, who seems more alert now that he’s had some food and water. But he’s still shy, so I try to speak to him in a soothing manner. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. I got you.”

  The pittie allows me to pet him, show him love, and ease his pain. I stare deep into his eyes, and we share a moment as he licks my cheek.

  This dog knows I’ve just saved his life; I’m certain of it.

  A taxi cab pulls up. The driver takes one look at the dog and drives away.

  Okay, that could have gone better.

  Let’s try this again.

  I stand up and wave down another taxi. Luckily, this one stops and lets the dog and us inside.

  “Where to?”

  “The nearest vet.”

  The driver gives me a blank stare. “Where to, lady? I need an address.”

  Uh… I grab my phone and start to search for a vet, but Preston beats me to the punch. “Aloha Animal Hospital on Ulili.”

  “Thanks.” I appreciate him taking charge and helping me. I snuggle up next to him, and he puts his arm around my shoulders.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  The taxi weaves through traffic, and I marvel at this day. I’m in Hawai’i, on my first vacation ever. Not even ten minutes into our trip, I find a stray dog.

  I must be cursed.

  Or maybe I’m blessed. “I’m sorry to ruin your vacation.”

  “It’s fine. Who knows what would’ve happened to him?”

  “Uh, me. He would’ve been caught on a pole by a dog catcher, held at the shelter for three days, and then held down by multiple people as they murdered him.” I close my eyes and try t
o force out of my mind the images of shelters dogs waiting in line for their deaths, being killed for the crime of being homeless.

  A crime I’ve been guilty of in my own life.

  Preston puts his hand on my thigh. “That’s awful. Well, now he’ll be fine. And we still have a week here, so let’s try to enjoy it.”

  I push those depressing thoughts about shelter dogs out of my head and try to replace them with fantasies about this trip. I start to get excited, really excited about our vacation. What’s going to happen? Are we going to walk on the beach, sunbathe, go snorkeling?

  “Here we are.” The cabbie’s voice brings me back to reality. Preston pays the driver, and we get out of the taxi.

  We walk into the vet with the dog limping behind us. He seems sweet, but he’s obviously scared and will definitely need a strong handler.

  Someone like Preston.

  The lady at the front desk stares at the dog. “Do you have an appointment?”

  I shake my head. “No. Actually, we just found this dog on the street. Can you scan for a chip?”

  The lady nods and grabs the scanner. I hold the dog still, and she scans him head to toe.

  Unsurprisingly, there’s no chip.

  She picks up the phone. “I’m going to call animal control.”

  Panic starts to take over. “No. Wait. Please don’t call animal control. He’s clearly a stray and malnourished, but he needs medical care. He was possibly hit by a car. They’ll kill him for sure. I can pay for whatever he needs,” I lie. I know for a fact the rescue card is maxed out, but I can start a fundraiser. Or maybe Preston can give me an advance on the funds he’s going to donate.

  The lady looks at his battered tail and lame gait. “I’ll be right back.”

  She goes into the back room, and I pull at my hair.

  Preston leans over to me and whispers into my ear, “Don’t worry. I got this. I’ll pay for everything.”

  His hand caresses my cheek, and I can feel the heat of his minty breath on my neck. I close my eyes, desperate to feel his lips on mine again, to have him claim me.

  His lips barely brush mine…and just when I’m certain he’s about to kiss me, the lady returns to the front desk accompanied by a man who I assume is the vet.

  Dammit. I could almost taste Preston.

  “Hey. You found a dog, yeah?” The vet seems friendly, and I’m digging his Hawaiian accent.

  I pet the dog protectively. “Yup. Pretty sure he’s a stray though.”

  The vet looks him over quickly. “Yeah, he’s in bad shape. Looks like he’s got a couple of lacerations and mange. I agree he was probably hit by a car. Animal control would just put him down. I can do an exam, but we’ll need to do x-rays and an ultrasound, plus blood work and a fecal.” He pauses and stares at Preston and me. “You would have to take complete ownership and responsibility for this dog. Are you okay with that?”

  Preston doesn’t hesitate. “Yup. Whatever the dog needs. I mean, he’d be dead now otherwise, either hit by a car or killed at the shelter, so, let’s just get him healthy.”

  I’m seriously so wet right now. Preston is legit using rescue speak. Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

  “Sounds good. Are you local?”

  “Nah, I used to live here but I have family close by. We both live in SoCal now, but I’ll make sure to do right by this dog and arrange transport off the island for him.”

  “Okay. I need you to fill out some forms, and I’ll have Malia do an estimate.” The vet leans down and pets the dog. “Okay, buddy. This is your lucky day.”

  The vet takes the pittie back into a room as the lady sits at the desk and starts typing something.

  I open my mouth to thank Preston for saving this dog, for fostering Gidget, for taking me to Hawai’i, for everything he’s done for me since we met, but before I can speak, he pulls me close. His hands cup my face, and his lips meet mine. The noise from the vet hospital melts away as I breathe him in. His tongue darts into my mouth and I kiss him back, forgetting everything as I focus on Preston. It’s just us alone in this moment, and I never want it to end.

  He pulls away, and my heart flutters. I notice the lady staring at us with an amused look on her face, and I feel my cheeks heat.

  “What’s his name?”

  My eyebrow cocks as I reply. “His? It’s Preston.”

  The lady shakes her head. “No, the dog’s name.”

  Duh. Of course, she meant the dog. I’m such an idiot, but I can only think of Preston. How he tasted. How he felt. And when he’ll kiss me again.

  “Cuffs,” Preston says, and I turn to him.

  I scrunch up my face. “Cuffs?”

  “Yup. Because that’s how we met.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Preston

  Yessi’s taste still lingers on my lips. I can’t wait to get her to the hotel. Cuffs has to stay at the clinic for treatment, but the doctor hopes he’ll make a full recovery. After I leave a deposit at the vet, Yessi and I hightail it out of there.

  I call for a taxi. As we wait for it to arrive, I pin Yessi against the side of the building and kiss her like I’ve just returned from deployment. I never had a girlfriend waiting for me back home while I was stationed overseas. Not that I planned it that way or anything, it just never worked out like that. I used to be so jealous of the men who came home to their loving wives waiting for them when our carrier rolled into port. Some of the wives would hold up signs that read, I love my Marine. Those lucky devil dogs would run off the carrier first, sweep their women into their arms, and kiss them like there was no tomorrow.

  And I would go home alone and get on a dating app to get laid. But it was just sex, no emotion involved, and it got old quick.

  I nip at Yessi’s lower lip after another passionate kiss. “You’re so incredibly hot. I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you.”

  She kisses me back and rubs her hands over my biceps. “Same here, even though I couldn’t stand you. Besides, you’re not out of the doghouse yet. You’re still on probation until you agree to stop selling puppies.”

  I laugh and kiss her again, gripping her incredible ass.

  A taxi pulls up, and we immediately climb into the back seat and start making out like teenagers. I don’t know what it is about Yessi, but I can’t get enough of her. She isn’t shy or timid in the least, aggressively kissing me back like she doesn’t care that the cabbie can see. Just days ago, we were mortal enemies, and now I hope we’re about to become lovers.

  We finally arrive at the hotel. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see our bags at the valet stand. Guess tipping the limo driver handsomely definitely helped. We step into the breathtaking lobby, and I marvel at the million-dollar view of the ocean outside. When the world gets insane, and I lose my way, Hawai’i has always had a way of recalibrating me. Even though I moved around a lot as a military brat, no place has ever felt more like home to me.

  The front desk attendant waves me over with a broad smile. I walk over to him with Yessi by my side.

  “Aloha, Preston Evans. Welcome to the Kahala. Thank you for staying with us.” He types something and adds, “I have reservations for two rooms.”

  Yessi whispers in my ear, “Cancel mine.”

  Yeah, baby.

  “Actually, we’ll only be needing one room. Could I upgrade to one of your suites?”

  “Of course, sir. We have our largest beach suite available if you’d like? It’s steps away from the sand.”

  Fuck yeah. Maybe we can go skinny-dipping in the ocean. “That would be wonderful. We’ll take it.”

  “Would you like the bellman to bring up your bags?”

  No, because I plan to throw Yessi against the wall and fuck her the second I get to the room.

  “No, thanks. I got them.”

  I tip the bellman for keeping our bags and grab them from the luggage cart.

  Once inside the elevator, I kiss Yessi again, pressing my hard cock between her thighs. I want to fuck he
r right here in the elevator, but once I notice the camera in the corner, I decide doing that would be an absolutely terrible idea.

  I have zero desire to make yet another sex tape. I want to keep Yessi all to myself.

  The elevator arrives on our floor, and after I struggle with the stupid key card, the door opens. I don’t even stop to admire the opulence of our suite or the pristine sand of the beautiful beachfront right outside our room. The only beauty I’m interested in appreciating is Yessi.

  I pick her up, carry her into the bedroom, and place her on the bed.

  I pause to truly appreciate her physical beauty. She renders me speechless. Her body is perfection—ample breasts, a tiny waist, and a gorgeous, lush ass.

  Her long eyelashes flutter, and I stare into her eyes, which are the hue of rich cognac. She’s already shed the sweatshirt she was wearing on the plane, and she’s clad in a tight black tank top and dark jeans. I can’t wait to discover every inch of her body.

  I lean over her and pull her tank top off over her head. Her skin is tan and flawless, covered only by lacy lingerie. She’s a work of art, her incredible body adorned with intricate ink. She has some seriously kick-ass tattoos, not the usual girly ones. Hers are fierce, fascinating, and feminine.

  Just like her.

  I trace the ink on her body down to her hip. Her chest rises when I touch her. I can’t wait to see her ripe nipples under her bra and to suck on her tits, but I want to tease her first.

  I haven’t felt this kind of anticipation or hunger for a woman since I can’t remember when. My sex life over the past few months has consisted of swipe rights through dating apps, shopping from an endless catalog of women. As horrible as it sounds, I don’t even remember most of them.

  Meaningless sex and hookups soothed my soul for a while. But not anymore. Falling in love with Kira had made me realize that I wanted more than just sex, but once our sex life was exposed, I felt like I’d lost Kira to the world. I felt betrayed. I didn’t trust her anymore.

  I want Yessi to be only mine. I refuse to share her.