Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 64929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
I sat up and gave him another little bark that was starting to come so naturally. That seemed to pull him back, because he smiled again and reached for the toy. I wasn’t sure how long we played, but eventually, I got tired and chasing the ball seemed like more work than I was willing to do. Master started to pick up the ball again, but I just pushed my head onto his lap and curled up beside him, closing my eyes.
Master tensed for a split second before relaxing, leaning against my bed frame. He started running his fingers through my hair, and I was almost asleep when he gently nudged me after several minutes. “All right, Pup,” he murmured, brushing his fingers along my cheek. “Let’s get this off of you so you can get some sleep.”
I was tired, my legs ached, and my knees were sore, but moving away from him was the last thing I wanted to do. I hadn’t felt that safe and relaxed for a long time. Moving meant I was going to lose it.
With his hands starting to take off the collar, whining didn’t seem right anymore, although I wasn’t sure what made it right to begin with. When the leather was gone from my neck, the blissful feeling of being worry-free quickly faded.
Real life sucked.
Maybe that was why people wanted to be puppies.
Reading about it online and seeing the happy pup in the video had been one thing, but honestly, the relief that came from not having to worry or think was even more incredible than I could’ve imagined. Sitting up, I looked down at the floor. Would things get weird now?
I hadn’t meant it to go that far, and I doubted Owen had either. He didn’t even seem to like me most of the time. That was starting to change, but I wasn’t sure what direction it was in or how. He’d said he was going to help me, but that probably hadn’t meant cuddling me and holding me.
Had it? Owen reached out a hand to me. I took it, searching his expression like that would give me the answers to questions I wasn’t even sure how to ask. He was as closed off as always, and the ease he’d shown as Master had faded.
I felt a pang. It had been nice seeing him like that, too.
I rose with his help, and he nodded to the bed.
“C’mon. You need some rest after that,” Owen said, and his lips finally quirked into a grin — not the mocking one I’d been half-afraid of, but one that reminded me of his relaxed smile. “Want me to tuck you in?” Maybe even more surprisingly, the words didn’t seem like a joke.
I wasn’t sure why I blushed. Ignoring it was probably the best idea, but something about the way he looked at me and the images that it put in my head were more intense than I was expecting. “I need a shower. It was harder work than I thought it would be.”
It wasn’t what he’d asked, but I wasn’t sure how I should have responded to the question. Did I want him to tuck me in? Was it even a real question?
Owen shrugged. “All right.”
I hadn’t expected the disappointment when he dismissed it that easily, even though it was probably for the best. It was less confusing this way.
He paused, though, touching my cheek then tucking a few stray hairs behind my ear. “Bath,” he said firmly. “Use those bath bead things you have.” He didn’t wait for me to answer, and he turned. I had to stare at his back as he left, which left me just as confused as I’d been when he’d first come to my room. Was that an order or a suggestion? What had he thought of the whole experience? Would it be weird to see him later, knowing that he’d seen me crawling after a ball?
Well, he’d thrown the ball without complaining, so it couldn’t be that awkward. And he’d always been incredibly vocal about his opinions. If he’d found the experience strange or stressful, he would have said something.
Owen wasn’t the type to suffer in silence. Did that mean he was okay with what we’d done? I still wasn’t sure how to define it. Was it a scene? Should it be called play time? Had it been a complete aberration that wouldn’t ever happen again?
I stared at the closed door for entirely too long.
Finally, my legs started to protest. I wasn’t out of shape, but playing had clearly worked muscles that didn’t usually get much exercise. Maybe Owen was right about the bath. As I headed out of my bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom, I couldn't help but look at Owen’s closed door. I’d thought moving forward with the project would help me see things more clearly, but after everything that had happened, I was left with more questions than answers.