I readily agree, my head moving in short little nods, feeling wetter now then ever, but I can tell he also means we don’t have to do everything in the next two minutes.
“We’ve got time,” he says slowly, stroking my hair back. “I want everything to be as special as you are to me,” he adds.
I’ve never had anyone say anything so sweet, and I hug as much of him as my short arms can reach until he circles my waist, squeezing me so tight I can’t help but imagine how it’s gonna feel when he does the same, filling me up inside as well.
His hard body is so warm, but not rock hard everywhere. Not like the hardness sticking up from his lap.
When he moves his muscles flex and soften at different rates. It’s like he’s a living machine. Soft and tender here, hard as a boulder there, and then it changes again.
Feeling all this against my own semi-naked, doughy softness is a new element of pleasure, and I decide I could just sit in his arms forever from now on.
“Where’s Moose?” I finally ask, suddenly realizing we haven’t seen or heard anything from him.
“I hope I didn’t scare him off,” I tell Parker truthfully, but he smiles knowingly.
Letting out a low growl of happiness, he shifts under me before lifting me up in his arms, pressing his lips against my ear.
“If we’re real quiet, I think I can show you where I think he might be after his bath and tearing up the house,” he says softly.
Carrying me through the hallway and up the stairs, I notice the faded photos of what I guess must be Parker’s mom and dad.
More than one of them is of a younger Parker with a striking looking older man I just know must be his dad.
Uniformed cops, and then the pair of them in plain suits and even sunglasses, shoulder holsters bulging as they have a thick arm around one another.
There are photos with what must be a mayor, and even one governor I recognize, both receiving medals of some description.
Before we even get halfway up the stairs, I gasp a little, convinced there’s someone else in the house after all.
Parker stifles a laugh and urges me to keep quiet as he starts to tiptoe all the way up the stairs, carrying me like I weigh nothing.
He creeps to the bedroom at the end of the hallway, and I crane my neck around the doorway.
Moose is buried under the covers, his rear end poking out one end, his front under all the pillows, snoring loudly.
“He’s happy to be home again,” Parker whispers.
We silently agree to leave Moose be. I’m glad in a way too. I love Moose, but I kinda like having Parker all to myself as well.
He creeps back downstairs, showing me to a similar sized room next to the bathroom, and I know it’s his guest room.
He nudges the door open and then a little bit more to close it behind us, laying me flat out on the bed before he snuggling next to me.
“You don’t mind?” I hear myself ask him, still amazed he can even stand not filling me up with what still feels like an urgent situation for him.
“I don’t mind,” he promises, assuring me he can wait but that it won’t be long before he claims me as his own.
We both hold each other and he shifts us just enough to reach for the covers, pulling them over us both.
He’s the big spoon and I’m the little spoon.
It’s the afternoon, I think but it feels like the most natural thing in the world for us both to just snuggle in silence. The low light in the room making it easier for me to feel sleepy all of a sudden.
Never wanting any of this to end even though I just got here.
I guess we’re both almost dozing by the time the phone rings.
I know I am.
It’s an old-style phone in the house. Loud even though it’s out in the hall. It feels like it’s right between us.
The shrill sound of the bright, old-style ring shaking Parker from his embrace with me.
A cop’s instinct I guess, hearing a phone, he goes for it before he even thinks about it.
Always on duty, and maybe even on call this weekend for all I know.
Maybe on-call permanently?
I still don’t even know his first name.
Thinking I might be asleep if I could even sleep through that noise, he pulls the door shut gently behind him, but his deep voice and the proximity of the phone don’t hide much.
I’m no detective, but it’s pretty clear it’s his mom calling.
I should have an ‘aww’ moment. A man like Parker, taking a call from his mom, how sweet.
But my mood soon shifts once I hear what he has to say.
He doesn’t sound happy to hear from her, and I figure maybe like my own so-called family, not everyone’s life is perfect either.
But it goes deeper and real quick.
“I told you, Ma. I had to come back down to town… the groomer who had Moose left him in charge of…” he lowers his voice so I can’t quite hear, but it doesn’t sound like he’s giving a glowing account of my looking after Moose.
I feel a stab of hurt. Rejection, but tell myself I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.
It’s none of my business…
Within two seconds. My ear’s against the door and I’m wishing I’d kept my pants with me. Reaching for a coverlet from the bed, I huddle closer to the doorway, opening it up a crack to hear better.
“I would have stayed, you know I would have… I can’t have just anyone taking a police dog home, it’s against regulations for starters… Sasha’s a contracted groomer to handle the city’s police dogs.”
Fair point.
“Look! I don’t wanna argue about it, okay? And there’s more to it than
