Stepdog Read Free Page B

and not thought about wanting to run my hand down them? She gave me a drowsy contented look and took the lead, moving around the table like flowing caramel, leaned against me, and slipped her hand into my back pocket, casually, naturally, as if we were a couple. She tipped her chin up toward me with an inviting smile.
    Snogging aside, I was dizzy by the time we reached the bedroom, and we hadn’t even got our clothes off yet.
    We didn’t bother with the lamp; streetlight streamed through awindow, leaving her in silhouette. She stepped out of her sandals. Her arms began to reach behind her to unzip her dress.
    â€œLet me do that,” I said quietly.
    I stepped toward her, rested one hand on her cool shoulder, tugged the zipper, the green fabric falling away from itself, revealing a smooth, pale back. Then I stepped away so I could watch her silhouette as the dress slid to the floor. What a gorgeous silhouette she made. She stepped closer to me, reached for my waist, and shyly began to lift my shirt. I raised my arms to help her.
    â€œOver here,” she whispered. Tossing my shirt aside, she settled onto the bed, and with a gentle tug on my belt loops, invited me to join her.
    Wow, this was happening . Almost fainting with pleasure, I began to unzip my jeans, then remembered my boots were still on. I leaned down to take one off, and dizzy as I was, began to lose my balance; I toppled to the side and stumbled, my still-booted foot landing hard on a hairy rope—
    â€”that YELPED—
    Sara sat bolt upright. “Cody?” she cried, just as I said, hopping around for balance, “Fucking dog! Jesus —”
    Sara hurriedly turned on the bedside lamp. It threw a warm fuzzy light on her gorgeous naked body—which I was seeing for the first time under not-ideal conditions.
    The dog was standing wide-eyed by the open door. Its tail thumped the doorjamb cautiously and it looked back and forth between us, unhurt but wildly alert, looking almost as if it were expecting praise for having survived getting its tail stepped on.
    â€œI forgot about you,” Sara said with affectionate apology to the dog, who used this as an excuse to move farther into the room.
    â€œThe dog’s going, right?” I said.
    Sara gave me a sheepish smile. God, she was gorgeous. “She normally sleeps on the bed with me.”
    I know Americans do that. I know Londoners do that. I know back in the Middle Ages, everyone did that, for warmth. But I couldn’t make the algebra work out here. Either the dog was on the bed, or I was on the bed, but not both. I did not want to ruin the moment but I’m not into being watched (unless I’m onstage, getting paid for it—and dressed).
    â€œCan we negotiate this?” I asked.
    All of the air got sucked out of the room and there was a giant, bedroom-shaped vacuum that kept either of us from speaking for a moment.
    â€œShe’s a lovely dog,” I added, in case that made it easier. “Just having her here in the room with us—”
    â€œRight, yes, I’ve never had to think about it before, that’s all,” Sara said awkwardly. “I haven’t had anyone over since I left my ex.”
    That news made me very happy, especially being delivered by such a beautiful and very undressed woman who had just peeled my shirt off me. “Well, there’s a first time for everything,” I said. “Her bed in the living room looked comfortable, she can sleep out there.”
    â€œShe’ll be confused,” Sara said, looking a little confused herself.
    â€œShe’s a dog,” I said, in a tone clearly implying that a dog was a fantastic thing to be. Which I’m sure it is if you’re a dog. “She’ll figure it out.”
    Sara had grown a little furrow between her eyes. I was surprised how much it changed the shape of her face, although the rest of that lovely naked body was unaffected, as was my interest in