Pup (23 page)

M
ICAH
hesitated with his hand on the doorknob, staring out the window. “I don’t want to go, Sir.”

I don’t want you to go
. Tackett pushed down the thought. The last two weeks had been a high of sexual and emotional discovery, not only for Micah, but for him too. Before he’d allow either of them to enter into a long-term contract, he needed to know when they came down from the high, the desire was still there. The only way they could do that was to have some time apart. A chance to clear their heads, take a breath, and reflect on what had happened and what they wanted in the future.

Tackett gently stroked the curls on Micah’s head. “I know, pup, but it’s for the best.”

“Why is making me leave you for the best, Sir?” he asked, turning around to meet Tackett’s gaze with tear-filled eyes.

“We already discussed this. We need to take a step back, clear our heads before we discuss a long-term contract.”

Micah shook his head and started to speak, but Tackett silenced him by pressing his fingers to his lips. “Do it because I asked you to.”

His shoulders slumped in defeat, Micah nodded and said sadly, “Yes, Sir,” when Tackett took his fingers away.

“Good boy.” He pressed a chaste kiss to Micah’s lips, not allowing himself to linger, afraid he wouldn’t allow Micah to leave the car if he did. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Micah hesitated.
“Go on, pup.”

Sighing, Micah picked up his bag from the floorboard, opened the door, and without a word, stepped out and closed it. He stood on the sidewalk, clutching his bag, looking a little lost.

Tackett forced himself to put the car into gear and pull away from the curb. Somehow he managed to keep the image of Micah’s tear-filled eyes out of his head, and kept it together long enough to get himself home before he fell apart.

Tackett had cleaned an alreadyspotless penthouse, putting away every trace of his pup, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t erase the images of Micah sleeping with his head on his lap as Tackett watched the news, or the way he moved around the kitchen, dancing and humming as he cooked. He’d tried to nap, but both the couch and bed felt empty without Micah. Breakfast and lunch had gone untouched, and he didn’t even try to make dinner.

He finally gave up trying not to think about Micah—it was impossible anyway—grabbed a glass of wine, headed out to the balcony, and allowed himself to give in to his morose feelings.

A few short months ago, his life had been so full, happy. A collaring ceremony and a cocky little pup had changed everything. It wasn’t all that long ago he’d have swornand meant itthat he didn’t want anyone in his life full-time, sub or otherwise. Now, after two short weeks with Micah, he couldn’t imagine his life without the little shit.

Yeah, he thought he might. Micah was so much more than someone to dominate and fuck. Somehow, he had wormed his way into Tackett’s heart, and it felt like he had left not only his submissive on the sidewalk outside an apartment building, but also the other half of his heart. Had it just been about domination and submission, he’d have let Micah stay when he’d gone to his knees and begged him, but this was about so much more.

Before he’d allow Micah to sign on the dotted line, it was imperative he know what he was getting into, all of it, because he couldn’t be just Micah’s Dom.

Sipping his wine, Tackett stared up at a moonless and starless night. Over eight million people lived in New York City, and for the first time in his life, Tackett felt completely alone.

The next evening found Tackett in the same spot, the same feelings flooding him, still staring up at the same starless sky. Jesus, he missed his pup. If he could only…. Tackett jumped, his wine sloshing over the rim when he heard a knock on the door. He glanced down at his watch—quarter past ten.

“Who the hell could that be at this hour,” he grumbled and headed to the front door, setting his wine glass on the island as he passed. Then, wiping his hand on his jeans, he opened the door.

Micah pushed past him, dropping his suitcase by the door, and went to stand in the center of the room, arms crossed over his chest.

“I told Joe I was moving out, apologized for the short notice, and told him I’d pay my half of the rent until he could find someone to take over my lease. I stopped by the Guards of Folsom and changed my address. Ty hugged me and Blake told me to tell you it’s about goddamn time. Oh, and my mom and dad want to meet you.” Micah blew a curl out of his eyes. “You don’t get to demand I give you my mind and body and then just dump me on the sidewalk, Sir. I gave them to you freely and you’re stuck with me.”

Moving to stand in front of Micah, Tackett crossed his arms, mimicking Micah, forced down the smile, and scowled. “Are you done, boy?”

Micah’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the only outward sign of his nervousness. “Yes, Sir,” he said confidently, not backing down an inch.

“What if I told you your mind and body wasn’t enough?” he asked, taking a step closer, getting into Micah’s personal space.

The confident gleam in his eyes dimmed a bit, but his voice was still strong when he said, “Then I’ll try harder, Sir.”

“What if I told you I wanted your heart too?”
“It’s already yours.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Tackett whispered and wrapped his arms around him. He’d never said the words to anyone, never thought he would. Tackett had never been in love. He wasn’t sure if what he felt for Micah was true love, but he knew he wanted the man in his life. Wanted to find out if it was. He took a shuddering breath and took Micah’s mouth in a deep kiss.

Micah’s arms went around Tackett’s waist, pulling him closer. “What’s not to love?” Micah murmured and kissed him back. The truth in Micah’s words slammed into Tackett’s chest, and he kissed him harder.

Suddenly he needed to feel Micah’s skin against his, and he reluctantly ended the kiss, prying Micah’s hands from his waist and pulling him toward the bedroom.

“Does this mean I get my long-term contact, Sir?” Micah asked, allowing himself to be pulled along.

“We’ll discuss that in the morning,” he said, flinging the bedroom door open, not stopping until he hit the bed and pulled Micah down on top of him. “Tonight I think my lover deserves a reward.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Micah muttered and then proceeded to make Tackett’s toes curl with a blistering kiss.

hails from Michigan. Not the best place to live for someone who hates the cold and snow. When not reading or writing, Jo can be found close to the heater checking out NHL stats and watching the Red Wings kick a little butt. Can't cook, misses the clothes hamper nine out of ten tries, but is handy with power tools.

http://sjdpeterson.blogspot.com/; https://twitter.com/SJDPeterson; and http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4563849.S_J_D_Peterson. Contact Jo at [email protected].