Chapter Two
Quinn stretched and looked around. The bathroom was spotless except for his paw prints on the tiled floor. He’d try to suppress the shaking this time. He’d hated the look Alice had given him when he’d rained dark brown droplets all over her living room.
But this wasn’t her living room. He’d seen her living room before…
He didn’t think much about ‘before.’ Didn’t remember much, either. The now was his reality, and in it, he ate scraps from the garbage and spent the night in alleys.
But he knew her scent and he knew her name.
Alice.
He knew her green eyes—and he somehow knew dogs weren’t supposed to see colors, but he didn’t know where he’d heard that or what it meant.
Her scent wasn’t in this bathroom. Similar, yes, but not hers. He knew her smell. The downstairs smelled more like her. And like something else he’d like to chase around.
Cat?
He knew that word and he knew Alice. That was more than he’d known since…since he’d been Prince Charming.
But he was really Quinn.
Headache.
He shook his head slowly from side to side, trying not to get the white tiles dirtier than he’d already had.
“I can take it from here.”
“No way I’m letting a lady carry her own shopping, when I can help. I’m bringing them to your door.”
“What about your friend?”
“She can wait.”
His headache turned worse, skull-splitting.
She could wait.
Who?
He licked one back paw, then the other. He wanted to lick more, but he had to hold back, not give in. He had to be Quinn.
“Prince Charming? You better not have made another mess in there.”
He woofed once, and Alice came in holding the same towel she’d brought earlier. It had pot bellied Santas on it. Another thing dogs weren’t supposed to recognize.
How did he know what he was supposed to know?
She wore clean clothes, but mud was still streaking one cheek.
Sweaty. Writhing. Scratching.
Flesh slapping against flesh.
He’d pay for it.
He already had.
Ouch.
Remembering was bad. It hurt his head. He wagged his tail.
Alice grimaced. “How am I ever gonna lift you into the tub?”
That was easy. He hopped inside and sat down, tail going berserk. He was going to get clean!
“Okay, you’re either the smartest dog ever, or I’m dreaming you up.”
He had to convince her of the former, if he wanted her to keep him. The thought made him grin. He did. He wanted it so much.
Surrounded by her scent, he didn’t even notice her turn on the water. He jumped a little when the warm jet hit his back, but let it soak his fur. Alice began lathering him up with something that smelled like flowers. He knew there’d been a time he wouldn’t be caught dead smelling like that, but all he could focus on now were Alice’s fingers, massaging him.
“Dude, the water’s coming out black.”
He looked down. He really had been filthy. If he was good, if he showed Alice he could stay clean, maybe he’d never again have to be so dirty. Her face was inches away, so he showed her his gratitude with a nice big lick.
“Eek. You sure love slobbering all over me, huh?” She scratched him behind the ears, and he leaned into her touch. This had to be heaven.
She rinsed him and tried to cover him in a big towel, and shrieked and giggled when he shook off the excess water. This was shaping up to be the best day ever! He felt some mild discomfort when she used the blow-drier to get him dry and fluffy, but got over it when she kissed him on the nose. “There. Now you look like a prince again.”
Stupid name. She had thought it was funny to name him that.
Headache again. Ouch ouch ouch. He lay on his side and rolled to his back, so he could rub his head against the rug.
“You can do that as much as you like now.” Alice smiled down on him. “When you’re done, come to the kitchen. I’ve got a treat for you.”
He was on his paws and after her in no time. Food was the next best thing to Alice scratching his belly. And judging from the smell that wafted off the box she opened…
Pizza. He hadn’t had any since—
Argh!
He wished he could ask for a painkiller.
“Here you go. You can finish it.” She left the box on the floor, and he went at it like there was no tomorrow.
Which there might not be. Most days he felt like there’d been no yesterday.
He cleaned the last traces of tomato sauce with his tongue, and looked up to see Alice watching him. “What am I gonna do with the cat?” she asked him. “Can’t let her out while you’re here, and she hates her crate, but I don’t think locking either of you in another room is going to work out.”
Cat.
Chase.
No. Alice wouldn’t want that.
He approached her and nuzzled her palm. She was much taller than he remembered.
She rose on her tiptoes, her lips brushing his ear. “If you didn’t have to go, I’d thank you for helping me with all those bags,” she whispered.
What was he remembering?
His arm snaked around her waist. Her long brown hair grazed the knuckles of his fingers. It felt like silk, and he wanted to fist his hands in that hair again, swallow her moans again. He’d be back for her, but first he had to—
This time he yelped with pain.
“You okay, boy?” Her concern made him warm inside. He nodded, and she gave him an incredulous look. “You must be a figment of my imagination.”
Maybe he was.
One hand on his collar, she led him to the living room. “I’m going to bring in Ms. Thing so you can smell each other through the crate. Please be good, or I’ll have to lock you in the bathroom.”
He would. He would be so good, she’d be proud of him. He would do whatever she said, and she’d decide there was room in her home for him. Never wet again. Never alone again.
Never in pain again. He’d be a happy dog, with a crate in his own little corner and a food bowl that read ‘Prince Charming.’
Fear rose up inside, stealing his breath. If he still had fingers, he’d be clawing at his throat.
His fingers had been laced with hers and she’d said she loved him but he didn’t love her but she was nice and he’d pretended until he couldn’t any more
Not Prince Charming.
He was Quinn. He didn’t want to be a happy dog. He didn’t want to be a dog.
He wasn’t a dog.
The pain came again, sweeping him in waves of agony. He ducked his head and waited it out. He didn’t move from his spot when Alice reappeared holding a plastic box. The thing in the box mewled and moved around, but he tried not to scent its obvious panic.
“Ms. Thing, this is Prince Charming.” Alice left the box on the floor in front of him, and he sniffed it before turning away. It wasn’t just that he wanted to please Alice; he didn’t really care about the cat while it wasn’t moving. He probably wouldn’t much care even if the thing was running around the apartment.
He was warm, safe, and with Alice.
Chapter Three
Alice sat on the couch, and placed the crate by her side. She’d open the door in about half an hour, give them some time to get used to each other first.
Despite his size, Prince Charming seemed like the least dangerous dog in the world, and Ms. Thing was easily adaptable to both two- and four-legged companions, according to Becca.
Prince Charming put his head on the cushion next to her without even having to stretch from his spot on the floor. His eyes were a striking golden yellow, ringed with orange, and he was beautiful now that his fur was no longer caked with three layers of sludge. He sort of looked like he had a good percentage of Irish Wolfhound in him. She petted him. He was silken too—and didn’t s
hed, judging from the lack on loose hairs between her fingers.
Soft and cuddly.
Alice sat back, pulled the blanket on, and patted the back of the couch. “Here, boy.” She could do with some cuddling. It had been a while since she’d felt that way. Last time she’d wanted to cuddle, she’d still been with Dorian.
There might have been a time after that, but— Nah.
To the soundtrack of feline protests, Prince Charming climbed up and curled his body into a big, fluffy ball next to her. Alice wrapped an arm around his neck, enjoying his warmth. His presence felt so comforting, she might forget to whine about the holidays for another ten minutes.
Or not.
The Grinch was over. She channel hopped and landed on yet another annoyingly upbeat Christmastime movie. This one came complete with a miracle. Alice grunted. “I hate TV during the holiday season.”
Prince Charming nodded against her knee.
She patted his head. “You’re a wise dog, despite your stupid name.” If she kept him, she’d have to rename him to just Prince.
Well, that was a dumb thought. Even if pets were allowed in her building, she was barely able to make ends meet as things were. A part time job in data entry and occasionally selling one of her street portraits didn’t exactly leave her with much at the end of the month, and a dog Prince’s size would probably need two pounds of dried food per day. There was no way she could afford it.
He placed a heavy paw on her thigh, and she realized she’d stopped petting him. She ran her fingers through his fur in long strokes. “You’ll stay with me tonight,” she said.
The dog nuzzled her palm.
“Maybe tomorrow too?”
He gave her puppy eyes.
“Okay, till the New Year tops, ’cause it’s the holidays, but on Friday we’ll start looking for your family.” He had to have a family, ’cause, seriously, who but a ten-year-old girl would name a dog Prince Charming?
He sniffed.
“I bet they miss you. I bet they’re out there looking for you as we speak.” She doubted that was the case. She could easily trace the dog’s ribcage under his thick coat. He was at least twenty pounds lighter than she’d initially estimated; he’d probably been eating poorly for months. Lost, wandering, searching for a place to call home. Alice felt sorry for both him and his people. Whoever had lost him had given up hope by now. “I’m going to take some beautiful pictures of you, and we’ll post them everywhere. Even if your family doesn’t see them, someone is bound to fall in love with you and give you a permanent home.”
She kept petting him until her arm began hurting. She looked at her wristwatch. It wasn’t even eleven yet, but she doubted she had it in her to stay up much longer. And she had to let the cat out.
Prince seemed to have drifted off and Ms. Thing had quieted down, so Alice opened the crate slowly. The feline looked around, then took an experimental step forward. Alice remained still while the cat crawled on her lap and extended her neck so she could sniff the dog.
Prince opened his eyes.
Ms. Thing hissed and arched her back. Before Alice could react, the cat leaped off the couch and up the ledge of the fireplace, scattering some picture frames on her way.
Prince closed his eyes again.
“Nothing fazes you, huh?” She thought the dog smiled. “I may be turning into crazy dog lady after all.”
Alice stayed where she was until Ms. Thing calmed down enough to approach them again. This time the dog didn’t move even when the cat set paw on his belly, and Alice was astounded when the cat curled up between his legs once she’d given his entire length a good sniff.
“Even you are in a cuddly mood, I see.” Alice yawned. It had been a long day.
The memory of Amanda saying she’d walked in on her having sex with a guy she’d just met surfaced to the forefront of Alice’s mind. The guy had been cute, and knew his way around the female body. She wouldn’t have minded cuddling up next to him, but cuddling would have been an odd follow-up to amazing yet meaningless sex.
Her beautiful stranger.
He’d said he’d call, but he never had. She couldn’t blame him. She’d picked him up in the elevator, fucked him on her living room floor—it had been before Amanda had bought her that cool sofa—and kitchen counter, and then walked him to the door, not even bothering to ask his name.
She made a face. Amanda had been right; Alice should have asked for his number. If nothing else, she could be having amazing yet meaningless sex again. On a regular basis, even. Heat flared up her chest and neck, to her cheeks, and her core burned at the memory of his skilled hands caressing her bare skin. He might have been able to pound some holiday spirit into her, if they’d kept in touch.
This was the holiday blues talking. She was the only single person she knew, and was clutching at straws, or in this case the ghost of the most recent guy to share sexy-times with her.
But she’d liked him at the time too. She’d used the elevator inordinately much in the weeks following their tryst, but hadn’t seen him again. And it wasn’t like she could go around asking people in her building if they knew someone matching his description.
It would have been good to fuck away the last few days of the year. Next time she had phenomenal sex, she’d definitely get the guy’s contact info.
If she ever had phenomenal sex again.
She needed to go to bed while she was still a step or two away from full-on self-pity.
Back when she’d still been planning on having a glass of wine and spending the night indulging her fantasies with the vibrator Becca had given her as a gag gift, she’d made her parents’ bed with silken sheets. It had been supposed to be a time of indulgence for her, and she deserved some fun…stimulation, even if she had to provide it herself.
She looked at the animals next to her. Nah, she’d spend the night in her own mini zoo. She wondered if it’d be the cat or the dog who’d have a harder time dealing with the smooth, slippery sheets. Her money was on the dog.
She turned out to be wrong. The moment she set the cat on the bed, the animal jumped to the ground.
“You sure you wanna sleep all alone?”
Ms. Thing didn’t even glance back as she made her way to the armchair by the foot of the bed.
“Suit yourself.”
Alice made sure there were no closed doors between the bedroom and kitty litter, then looked at Prince. “Should I take you for a walk?”
The dog shook his head.
Alice couldn’t believe her eyes. “Are you shitting me?”
Another headshake.
“Are you real?” She half expected him to nod, but he jumped on the bed. He spun around himself a couple times, bunching the sheets under him. When he finally lay down, he took up more than half the mattress.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Alice pulled hard at the covers until she managed to dislodge them from under his big doggy butt, and made herself comfortable next to him. She barely managed to avoid another lick to the face when she cuddled up close and wrapped an arm around him. “Sweet dreams, Prince.”
The dog let out a soft woof in response.
Alice fell asleep with a smile on her face.
He held her to him, turned, and laid her on the pillows strewn around her coffee table. “Watch your head.” Thin laughter lines framed brown eyes so light, they were almost amber.
Her hands found their way between their bodies, to his fly. Blindly, she fumbled with his buttons while he rained kisses along her collar bone. His lips were full—fuller than hers—and soft.
He used his teeth to lower one strap of her top. She hadn’t worn a bra today, and had felt self-conscious when she’d reached the frozen goods section at the supermarket. Now she was glad she didn’t have to wait for his mouth to find her nipple.
He rolled his tongue around it until it ached, his fingers mapping her body except for the part of her that burned for him. He caressed, fondled, licked, and nipped every inch of skin he exposed. He’d
only touched her fleetingly below the waist, yet she was bursting with sensation.
She moaned and arched against him at the same time she pushed his jeans down his hips. “I need you inside me.”
He straightened, pulled his jeans back up, and fished his wallet out of the back pocket, before letting them drape around his thighs again.
Alice looked at his cock, jutting long and thick from the opening of his boxer shorts. She reached for him, but he pulled away. “Protection.”
She watched as he ripped the packet open and rolled the condom on his length.
“You know, I can do that using only my mouth,” she said, waggling her eyebrows. This man, this nameless man, made her feel more at ease than she ever remembered being.
“I’ll have to see that to believe it. Maybe…?”
She caught herself hoping he’d say, ‘Maybe next time?’ but he didn’t finish his question. Instead, he knelt between her legs.
She thought he’d pull her panties off, but he bunched them in his fist and tugged them to the side, pressing his thumb against her clit.
She gasped.
He smiled.
Silk glided against her naked skin. Alice raised both arms over her head and took pleasure in the luxurious sensation. Feather light caresses of silk down her breasts, her belly, her thighs. Her entire body felt a-tingle, her skin breaking in goose-bumps, alive under the soft material.
Her eyelids fluttered open, and for a fraction of a second, she was sure she made out the outline of a man stretched out next to her, one hand folded under his head. He was completely nude, his cock hard and thick.
She reached out for him, inexplicably unafraid, but found fur instead of the smooth expanse of his chest.
She woke up again, this time for real. She was fully dressed in her pink flannel pajamas, and the only one sharing her bed was Prince, who panted happily when she rubbed his sides.
A dream. One more vivid than she’d ever had before.
“I’m in serious need of a good fuck,” Alice muttered to herself.
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