Against my better judgment, I’d stopped. And he ran across a field to this damn dog. It had no collar and screamed stray. And here we were now, with Riley doing his damnedest to convince me to take along this starving canine.
The problem was, I’d had a hard time saying no to Riley before. But now that I knew what his lips felt like around my cock, and I knew that low moan he made in the back of his throat when he came, well . . . now it was next to impossible to say no to him.
I was screwed.
Because since Dallas—well, since we slept together in Dallas—he was like a different person. He smiled and walked straighter. And he never stopped touching me. Before, it was like he wanted to avoid getting close to me as much as possible. Now I couldn’t walk without him touching my arm. I could barely take a piss by myself. And sleeping? Well hell, he wrapped himself around me so tight, I swore I had a permanent imprint of him on my skin.
But I wasn’t complaining. This Riley needed me, and for the first time in a long time, I actually felt needed.
So of course I raised my head and said to Riley, “Get the damn dog in the car but put a blanket down because I don’t want him scratching up Butch’s fabric.”
Riley’s face immediately split into a grin. It was surprising how quick the guy could change moods and facial expressions. He whooped, which made the dog startle, so he then bent to coo and soothe him.
I rolled my eyes and turned around to walk back to the Jeep. If Riley wanted the dog, he could get him in the car.
He did, too, placing a blanket on the backseat so the dog could lie down.
He poured some water from his water bottle into a shallow container we found in the Jeep, and the dog lapped it up. He settled himself with a groan and closed his eyes. I hauled myself into the driver’s seat and looked over at Riley. He was tapping away at his phone. “What’re you doing?” I asked.
“Looking up the closest store where we can get some food and other supplies for Dallas.”
“Who?”
He pursed his lips and looked at me. “Dallas.”
I turned around. The dog opened one eye, huffed, then closed it again. To Riley, I said, “You named the dog Dallas?”
“Yeah, don’t you like the name?”
“I don’t really care about the name, just wondering why you picked it.”
He shrugged. “The city ended up being good to me.” He shot me a wink.
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, fine. Dallas it is.” I pulled Butch back onto the road and wished I had a toothpick. “We near a Walmart or something?”
“There’s a general store about an hour up the road.”
“All right, then that’s where we’re headed.”
***
I’d never done anything this domestic in my whole fucking life. Not when I wore an apron and made cookies with Jess for her third-grade classroom’s Christmas party. Not when I helped her sew some buttons back onto her doll’s jacket. Not when I helped my mom plant petunias around the entire perimeter of our house.
Because here I was in a general store with a man who stood out like a sore thumb with his tight jeans and high-class looks. We had a dirty dog with us and Riley was talking to him like he was our child.
People were giving us looks, and if I were a type of person who cared what other people thought, I would have been embarrassed.
Good thing I wasn’t that type of person, and neither was Riley. Or, he did care and was just ignoring it because Dallas was his entire focus right now. Maybe Riley had a caretaker gene, too, which kicked in when it came to furry, four-legged animals.
Riley asked my opinion on Dallas’s collar and leash set, like I gave a shit. I would have found a piece of rope and tied it around his neck, but when I told Riley that, he gasped and covered Dallas’s ears. “Don’t let him hear you say cruel things.” And I rolled my eyes, reluctantly pointing to the green collar.
Riley beamed and placed that in our cart.
Yeah, we had a goddamn cart for this goddamn dog.
It was full of kibble, matching food and water dishes, a wide variety of toys that the dog would probably destroy in ten minutes, and other supplies.
What Dallas needed most, in my opinion, was a bath, because the dog stank.
I didn’t even look at how much it cost when the cashier rang up all the supplies. Riley insisted on paying for it, which was good because while I wouldn’t have minded, it wasn’t my idea to take in another living thing on our cross-country trek.
This was worth it to Riley, though. He walked the dog to the Jeep proudly, talking to him the whole time. He got him settled in the backseat and rubbed behind his ears. It was an odd pairing, Catwalk with a junkyard dog.
It made me wonder what people thought when they saw us together. I wasn’t anything special and Riley . . . well, when he was like this, animated and happy, he glowed.
I could see now why he’d been able to get crazy modeling campaigns. He was a sight, for sure.
He hopped in the passenger seat and looked at me, then let out a long breath. “Okay, so as much as I love that dog, he needs a bath. Damn, he smells.”
I laughed, hard. Then I put Butch in gear. “Let’s go get our dog clean, yeah?”
Riley leaned across the console and kissed my neck. He ran the tip of his nose under my jaw, then his tongue the lobe of my ear. “I think I might need a bath, too.”
I shivered. “You’ll need help, right?”
He pulled back and grinned wickedly. “Of course! You can’t expect me to shower all by myself.”
And then I cursed him because I had to drive around looking for a motel with a hard-on.
***
We ended up finding a set of one-bedroom cabins that allowed animals. Which was a good thing, because if Riley tried to leave Dallas’s sight, the damn dog whined constantly.
After bathing Dallas, Riley sat on the bed and tried to teach him some simple commands. I set up a bed in the corner, because I’d made that rule—no dog in the bed. I thought Riley would complain, but he told me he needed his “Col alone time,” so he was all for the dog sleeping on the floor.
So I had to make this bed good since I wanted to get laid without a dog barking and whining in the same room. We’d bought this big plush pillow, so I wedged that in the corner and put a blanket on top of it. I nestled a stuffed cowboy boot dog toy in one corner and a pig’s ear treat in the other. I knew it’d make a mess, but I didn’t care. I wanted that dog quiet. I set out the food and water bowls, then surveyed my work.
“Speak.”
There was a hesitant bark.
“Let’s try that again. Speak!”
Dallas barked louder this time, and when I turned around, Riley was feeding him a treat and scratching his ears.
“Why are you teaching him something that makes noise?” I asked.
Riley rolled his eyes and pointed to the bed. “Go to bed.”
Dallas jumped off the mattress, walked over to his bed, did a little turn or two, then flopped down in a huff. He placed his head on his paws and shifted his gaze back and forth between the two of us. I frowned. “Okay, how did he know how to do that?”
Riley shrugged and stood up. “I think he had an owner before. He knows basic commands.”
We’d stopped in at a local vet’s place to make sure the dog didn’t have a microchip. He didn’t have one, and there were no reports of a missing dog. We’d also found out he was a mutt, sort of a cross between a lab and something else.
Arms closed around my waist and gentle teeth nipped my shoulder through my T-shirt. I closed my eyes as those hands drifted further down. And those lips trailed up the back of my neck. “You always smell so good,” he whispered as he tasted my skin with his tongue.
“Yeah?” I swayed my hips a little, pushing back into him as he rubbed my hardening cock through my jeans. “What do I smell like?”
Those nimble fingers were undoing the button of my jeans and lowering my zipper. I was commando again, because I k
new how much it turned Riley on.
“You smell like mine.” His hand closed around my shaft and I moaned, letting my head fall back on his shoulder. He had perfect hands, and he knew just how to stroke me to drive me out of my mind. His lips ran down the cord in my neck and then he pressed a kiss to the hinge of my jaw.
I opened my eyes and spotted Dallas turned away from us, his back rising and falling. I pushed my hips back into Riley harder. “Know what I’d like right now?”
Riley rocked into me, and I felt his hardness against my ass. His breath was hot in my ear. “What?”
“Want you to suck me. Then fuck me until I can’t breathe.”
At my words, he stopped stroking me, then squeezed, hard, until I gritted my teeth at the pain. Riley liked when I talked. He liked my mouth, he’d told me. Whether I was sucking him or telling him harder. Which wasn’t really like me. Sure, I spoke up about what I liked and what I didn’t like. But I wasn’t vocal for the sake of being vocal, necessarily. But Riley liked it, my dirty mouth. And it liked being dirty around Riley.
He liked being rough with me too, thank God. Because that’s how I liked it. Hard, with finger-shaped bruises on my hips and teeth marks in my shoulder.
His hands left me, and then my shirt was over my head. He shoved me down onto the bed on my back, my legs bent over the edge, and then he was on his knees between them, shoving my thighs apart. I braced myself on my hands behind me and planted my booted feet on either side of him.
He licked up one side of my cock and down the other, laving it until it was covered in spit, then he took me into his mouth. I shifted my weight and threaded a hand in his hair, watching as my cock slipped in and out of his mouth. He loved this, it was clear. And fuck, he was made to do it, with those big, beautiful lips and agile tongue.
I watched him, amazed that a man who looked like Riley, who had a heart like Riley, was on his knees for me.
I didn’t want to come yet and he knew, because he wasn’t sucking with intent. He was taking his time, slow, with light suction.
“Fuck, baby,” I murmured, and watched those golden eyelashes flutter on his cheeks. “This might be the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”
His cheeks colored, and he pulled his head back so only the tip of my cock was in his mouth. He laid his head on my thigh and stared up at me, eyes big and dark and wet, as he sucked on just the head, swiping his tongue over that extra sensitive skin on the underside. His eyes drifted closed and his throat worked. He looked like he could lay there forever with me in his mouth. I thought maybe I’d be okay with that, too.
Eventually he pulled off. I was still hard as granite and my shaft glistened with his spit in the dim light of the cabin.
He wiped his mouth, his lips red and swollen, and then those eyes narrowed on my face. I smiled, because I loved this look of his—this predatory possessiveness.
I shucked my boots and socks and jeans as fast as I could as Riley undressed, his eyes never leaving mine.
He turned me on my hands and knees, put on a condom, and then after a quick application of lube, shoved himself inside me hard. He began a punishing pace immediately and I didn’t fight it. I shoved my head into the pillow in front of me and held on. “Yeah, Ri, like that. Fuck. Harder, baby. Harder.”
His fingers left my hips and caressed my spine with light touches, an odd contrast to the snap and jerk of his hips. Then he gripped the top of my ass with one hand and reached down to jerk me with the other.
It didn’t take me long, maybe a couple of strokes before I was shooting all over the sheet below me and Riley was crying out as his hips stuttered against me.
I collapsed into the wet spot, not really caring about it because hell, they weren’t my sheets.
Riley pulled out slowly and I heard him leave the bed as he dealt with the condom. Then he was back, those long limbs wrapped around me. I was facing him on my stomach as he snuggled into my side. He ran his hands through my hair, twirling it where the strands curled at the nape of my neck.
“Too long,” I mumbled.
His eyes shot to me. “What?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Hair’s too long. Curling and shit.”
He looked positively horrified. “Don’t you dare cut it.”
“What?”
“Don’t you dare cut your hair, Colin Francis Hartman.”
I burst into laughter. “My middle name isn’t Francis!”
Riley’s expression didn’t change. “I know, but I needed a middle name to show you how serious I was.”
I laughed harder, rolling onto my side and tugging him against my chest. “You’re a fucking weirdo.”
He huffed. “Don’t cut your hair.”
My last boyfriend had liked my hair short, almost buzzed. And I’d kept it that way so it didn’t get messed up in my helmet. After the season, I’d let it go. “Why?”
He pulled his head back and tugged on some hair at my ears. “I love it. That dark, dark hair with your light blue eyes.”
Riley was looking at me like he never wanted to look away. I’d never had a guy get all possessive with me. Who wanted me enough or cared about me enough. And maybe that was my fault, too. I never wanted a guy back the same way.
None of those guys were Riley, and none of them had made me feel like Riley did. I’d been through a couple of breakups in my life, and I just kinda . . . moved on. Jess said I was too laid back. That I should have fought for some of those guys. And some of those guys had said the same thing. I don’t think you really cared about me.
Looking back, maybe I hadn’t. Because with Riley . . . I had this weird ache in my chest when he looked at me with those dark eyes. When he touched me, my belly warmed and my skin pricked.
I pressed my lips to his. “I won’t cut my hair, Catwalk.”
He smiled, and he let out a relieved sigh. I thought if it was that easy to make him happy, then maybe we could actually make this work. Whatever it was.
Except . . . what happened when we reached the ocean?
***
Landry,
Meet Dallas!
{Picture}
Isn’t he cute? He’s a stray we found on the side of the road. He’s a little skinny but we’re working on fattening him up. I’ll go broke seeing this dog healthy!
Here, I even took a selfie of the three of us.
{Picture}
Other than that . . . well . . . things are great! Fantastic even! We’re in Louisiana now. I wanted to stop in New Orleans and eat beignets but Colin said that’s out of our way. Party pooper.
We’re on our way to the ocean, and I guess . . . I guess I thought that’d be the end. But now . . . well, I’m thinking it might be a beginning instead.
I hope you are well. I love the pictures from your latest trip with Justin. I’ve never been to Maryland! Maybe we’ll all go together sometime.
—R
Chapter Thirteen
It was the oddest shop I’d never seen and my first thought was, Mom would love this.
The pink sign out front, which was in the shape of a pig’s snout, said OINKERS NOVELTY SHOPPE. It was about an hour out of our way, but we couldn’t not stop at a shop that specialized in everything pig.
Riley was in a mood. A good one. The one I wished he was always in but never seemed to last. We were perusing the shelves in Oinkers, and he wore a pink mesh trucker cap with pig’s ears on the top, the tag dangling over his ear. He also donned a pair of sunglasses with plastic pigs on the sides, and wore a pig oven mitt on each hand. He reached out and pinched my ass with a mitt.
I shifted to the side and scowled at him. “Will you quit it?”
“Sorry,” he said, sounding anything but. He hummed to himself and held up a shirt covered in a mud-splatter print. “Does this go with my eyes?”
I shook my head at him, not able to hide my smile. I was standing in a crazy pig shop in Louisiana with an L.A. underwear model. Except Riley wasn’t that. He was just . . . Riley. My Catwalk. A guy
who liked to play around in pig shops like the rest of us. “If you’re done goofing off, help me pick something out for my mom.”
He set the shirt back the shelf. “What does she need?”
I snorted. “She doesn’t need anything. She has enough pig crap—well, not literal crap, you know—to fill a barn.”
Riley had found this place. He knew I always bought something pig-related for my mom, so he’d Googled. I had no idea what he Googled to find this place, but he did, indeed, find it. So here we were.
I tried not to dwell on the fact that he’d taken the time to ensure I could get a gift for my mom. Because wasn’t that . . . boyfriend shit? Wasn’t that showing you cared past a ride and a fuck?
Or maybe I was just hoping too hard. We weren’t at that sweat lodge anymore but I still felt like sometimes Riley was a greased pig who was going to slip through my fingers if I held on too tight or too loose. I felt like I’d hit the sweet spot now, but I wasn’t sure how long that would last.
I picked up a set of towels and ran my finger over the pink embroidery. My mom already had a set of towels like that. Hell, our house could probably furnish this whole shop.
I moved on to another room, one that held Christmas decorations. My mom had her own tree she kept in the kitchen at Christmas that was covered in pig ornaments and pink ribbon and all kinds of crazy shit. I fingered a set of pig-shaped lights. They glowed pink against my hand and I smiled. One thing my mom did not have was a set of pig-shaped lights, and those would be perfect on her tree.
I grabbed a box and walked out to find Riley at the counter. “What are you buying?”
He turned around, still wearing that damn hat and those god-awful sunglasses. He grinned at me. “I’m buying a pack of cards.”
I stood next to him at the counter and leaned down to see what was in his hand. It was a set of playing cards, the backs covered in a rainbow pig motif. I raised my eyebrows. “You’re buying pig cards.”
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