Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Do you like that?” I ask him, and he shakes his head.
“I think that’s a little too much for me.”
That’s how I thought he would answer, and we’re on the same page there—at least for now.
“Gloves next.”
They have a variety of different kinds of pup gloves. Some bigger and bulkier and others a little simpler. We go with a pair of plain, black gloves with a zipper to keep them snug on his hands.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he says, this sort of soft awe to his voice that makes a strange well of pride swell in my chest.
“You should be proud of yourself for doing this.”
“I am. For sure it’s just…kind of amazing. To let go like this and to do it with you.”
“Awww. Shucks. Aren’t you sweet?” I wink and he rolls his eyes.
“Come on. Let’s get a collar. I really want a collar.” This time it’s Evan who grabs my hand and tugs me down the aisle until we get to the collars and leashes.
I read about different levels in collaring—a regular pet collar, a chain, locks. “I think the regular collars are the beginning. A lock means you’re in a committed relationship with someone.”
“I mean, I just need something simple for now, right?” he asks.
“Yeah, we’ll just be doing it at home, so we can start easy and see where it takes us. This is the same blue that’s on your hood,” I say pointing to one of the racks.
“Um…do you know me? Totally not my style.”
Laughing, I hold my hands up in defeat. “By all means then, you pick.”
“Thank you,” he says playfully. Evan sets the basket down and begins fingering through the different styles of collars. I can’t help but stand there and watch him, see the look of concentration on his face because he’s taking this so damn seriously.
Again, I get a swell of pride for him, for what he’s doing. It’s strange, what I’m getting out of this already, how seeing Evan take this for himself and being a part of giving it to him begins to fill this void I didn’t know needed to be filled.
“What do you think of this?” He holds up a black, leather collar with what I can only describe as delicate silver studs and silver stitching as accents.
“I like it. I think it’ll look hot as hell on you. Here, let’s try it on.”
His eyes widen in this moment of panic as if he just realized he’s in the middle of a leather store trying on puppy gear.
Evan’s gaze darts around the room as though he feels on display. I’ve seen Evan in the clutches of anxiety before, and though we’re not playing right now and I’m not sure if it’s the right thing to do, I wrap a hand around his nape, rub his scalp and say, “It’s okay, Pup. There’s no one here judging you. If you’re not ready, we don’t have to get the collar yet.”
“No!” jumps out of his mouth and I can see it surprises him too. “I want it. I just had a weird moment right there. I want to try it on.”
I nod and take the collar from his cool fingers. Evan closes his eyes as I wrap the leather around his neck and latch it. He doesn’t open his eyes as I pull my hands away, so I continue to watch him, let him do this at his own pace. Christ, he looks really fucking beautiful in it. I love the black against his pale skin. The fact that it’s not too dainty but not big and bulky either. There’s an O ring on it where a tag would go. Will Evan ever want a tag there? Will he pick a pup name he wants engraved on his collar, or will he stick with Pup Evan? So many damn questions that make goose bumps spread across my skin and my dick sort of perk up.
This isn’t about sex, I have to remind myself, though Evan did get hard when he jumped into my arms earlier.…
I don’t have much time to think about it because Evan’s eyes flutter open before he focuses on me. He opens his mouth, but on instinct, I put a finger against his lips and say, “Wait. Tell me what it feels like first.”
I know his first question would have been to ask me how it looks, but right now, I really want to know how Evan feels.
“Okay. Um, the leather feels nice against my skin. It’s not too tight, but snug enough that I can tell it’s there and it…it feels right being there, Frankie. Like it fits and when I say that, I don’t mean in size. Like it’s supposed to be a part of me. I don’t know. That sounds stupid.”
“No,” I tell him. “That sounds perfect. And it looks really fucking good, Ev.”