She’s standing so close I can feel her body heat. And my body knows it too; my cock is up and ready.

It’s unsettling.

Not because she’s not gorgeous – she is – but because I’m not ruled by my body. Even now, with the delicate scent of her soft tawny hair filling my every breath and her chest rising and falling a bit quicker than it had been while we were making the bed, I sense that she’s feeling something too.

Her wide brown eyes meet mine for a second and I see the thud of her pulse in her lips. And I want to taste them. As if she’s reading my thoughts, her tongue flicks out, a pretty pink, and slides over her lower lip in a slow motion that’s tempting. Too tempting. Thoughts of that perfect tongue on the underside of my cock while her lips slide over it fill my mind.

And almost destroy me.

Her eyes flick to my lips and I know she’s thinking about me kissing her. And I want to.

My hand reaches out to touch her cheek.

And she flinches.

As if burned, my hand drops back to my side short of making contact with her. I turn away, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. “This space is yours to do with as you please,” I tell her, hating myself. Why did I try to touch her? Was I really going to kiss her?

Why does it feel like some invisible thread is tangling around us, shoving us closer together in this small space?

“Thank you,” she whispers, her head hanging as if she’s ashamed of herself.

“I need to check on Sentinel,” I tell her as if I need a reason to leave that isn’t running the fuck away from her before I do something we’ll both regret. Because I’m not controlled by my body, god damn it.

I leave in a hurry. In the fresh air of the outdoors, I realize this is going to be harder than I thought. It’s a good thing that there’s more than just a single wall between us. I don’t think I’d be able to sleep knowing she was sleeping on the other side of my bedroom wall.

I hurry up the step into the house and see Sentinel is awake. He lifts his head and his tail begins to thump before the effort becomes too much. He rests his head back and I begin to talk to him.

“That’s okay. We’ll get proper introductions later. For now, you rest and heal up, okay?” I say, squatting down beside him to run my thumb up the space between his eyes. The dark fur around his eyes is all German Shepard. He’s a beautiful specimen right down to the slightly shorter back legs and lean body with that Graham cracker brown and black body.

He relaxes, his lips puffing out as he exhales sharply. I take the dark blanket and unfold it a bit to make a reasonable sized bed for him. Lifting one side of the stretcher to slide it under him, I’m joined by Victoria, who kneels and works shoulder to shoulder with me.

She’s quiet as we settle Sentinel onto the bed and lean the empty stretcher against the wall of the counter separating the dining area from the kitchen. I watch as she strokes his neck. She talks quietly to him and his ears twitch, honing in on her voice even as his eyes drift closed.

“You’re such a good boy,” she says gently, her fingers around his ear. There’s love in her expression as she strokes the soft hair along the edge of his dark ear, and I feel like I’m intruding on a private moment between friends.

It’s touching.

And suddenly, I realize I’m glad that I did this, not just for Sentinel, but for her too. Whatever demons she’s running from, she needs him as much as he needs her.

It’s a strange sensation and one I don’t totally understand, so I shove it down deep. I’ll inspect it later, but right now, I want to focus on getting through this time while I have a new house mate. Well, a kind of house mate. I guess she’s more like a neighbor.

“I’ll need to do some shopping to stock up and mother in law,” I tell her, not feeling bad that I’m not prepared for guests.

She glances at me, as if only now aware I’m still in the room with her. But she says nothing, and I sense she’s struggling with her own issues as she continues loving on Sentinel with inquisitive fingers that explore his ear.

And I continue. “I can do that tomorrow. And I’ll make some dinner tonight. Do you have any allergies?” I ask, thinking about the things I’d picked up for dinner today. And as I think about it, I realize just how pale and sick Victoria looks.

She’d had that sandwich. I bet it’s tucked in her purse, looking more pathetic than it had in the store. She’d do better by some of my home made stir fry. The vitamin rich meal might just perk her up, bring some color to her flesh, and make her feel a bit better in these rough, upcoming days.

Because she’s going to have a lot to deal with. Sentinel isn’t going to go from zero to one hundred in a day. It’s going to take weeks at least for him to heal up to where I’ll be comfortable surrendering him to home care. Not because I have no faith in Victoria – I don’t – but because I have a standard I set for myself. A dog in this rough of shape with these injuries needs time, no stress, and a stable environment while his body repairs.

And I have a feeling that if Victoria’s life is anything, it’s not stable, stress free, or calm.

No, she seems like the type that either thrives on drama or is running form a life that was overwhelming with it. Either way, not good for the dog.

Or her, I guess.