Six Months Later

The last of the summer sun scorches my neck and shoulders as I step outside onto the pavement after leaving my last lecture for the day. My year three undergraduate fall semester is well underway. Like clockwork, my phone buzzes just as I’m about to take the short walk to get the A-train to Brooklyn. Fishing it out of the front pocket of my backpack, I see a text from Jackson.

‘Hey doll. How was class?’ the message reads.

‘Hi love. The usual. Walking to the subway now. Hard at work?’

‘Yes. Hey, can you stop by my condo?’

‘Sure. Why?’

‘I’m expecting a delivery. Won’t make it in time.’

Jackson’s concierge desk is used to signing for all residents’ courier packages, but he wouldn’t ask me unless he had a good reason.

‘It’s no problem.’

‘Got your key for my place?’

I smile. If Jackson had his way, I’d be using this key every morning when I go to school, and every night when I come home. He’s been asking me to move in for months, especially since he convinced Vivian to sell him her condo so he can have the privacy and seclusion he enjoys. Minus the dogs. I still pet-sit for Vivian from time to time. She moved down three floors from him in the same building, so I see Daisy, Sheba and Bailey a lot. And although the idea of living here is appealing for several practical reasons—as well as for some sinfully satisfying ones—moving in together is a big step for me.

‘Yes, I have it.’

‘Good. Running to a meeting. See you later, doll.’

I arrive at his condo soon after, and leave a voice message for Emily, then Rose, that they shouldn’t expect me to make it home tonight. I have more than just a toothbrush at Jackson’s place. If he gets home before the package arrives, he won’t let me leave. Not that I’d want to.

I’m halfway through my Microbiology readings when the concierge desk phones to advise me that a package is here. Apparently, Jackson gave instructions for the delivery to be dropped off at his door. It’s no problem with me, so I head to the foyer to wait. I open the door when there’s a knock a few minutes later. The delivery man smiles at me and holds out a handheld signature device and attached stylus in one hand.

“Good afternoon. Sign here, please.”

“Hi. Sure.” I take the stylus and start to sign, but he hasn’t given me anything yet. “Just to confirm, what am I signing for?”

He lifts up a blue plastic carrying case about the size of a piece of carry-on luggage. “Here you go, ma’am.”

“Oh. Great. Thanks.”

The delivery man rushes off as quickly as he arrived, leaving me at the door with this case. Making the assumption that it’s business related, I take it into the study. But the weight in the case shifts from to one side, then the other. Then there’s a small noise coming from inside. And again.

That was definitely a bark.

I take the case to the sitting room and set it down, which is when I notice a very discreet latch directly under the handle. Part of me wants to phone Jackson to find out if this is a mistake. He’s not the biggest fan of dogs, even if Daisy, Bailey and Sheba love him. Clicking the clasp, I open the container, which from the inside, definitely looks more like a pet carrier.

And there’s a puppy inside! The most adorable gray and white Havanese that I’ve ever seen is sitting in the back of the carrier. Its hair is so long that I can barely see its eyes.

“Hi there, little guy!” I coo. “Or girl. Are you thirsty?”

It scampers to the front of the carrier, tail wagging excitedly as I take him in my lap. There’s a noise from the foyer just then, and Jackson appears in the doorway, smiling broadly.

“Surprised?” he asks, coming to sit beside me.

I give him a quick kiss. “That you got yourself a puppy? Oh yeah.”

Jackson runs his fingertips over the little guy’s head, and it tilts its head up, licking then sniffing Jackson’s palm. “That’s a lot of hair. And he’s not for me. I got him for you,” he admits.

“Aww, hun. I love the gesture, but there’s no room at my place for a cute little puppy like you,” I say, shifting my focus from Jackson to the dog, which lets out a whining sound.

“We can fix that. There’s lot of room here. For Buddy…and you too, whenever you’re ready.”

“Is that his name?” Jackson nods. “That’s an excellent name for a Havanese, little Buddy.” I look at Jackson again. “You know they’re called the Velcro dog, right?”

“Yeah, I remember. This breed is perfect for the city, enjoy being inside, don’t grow up to be as big as a horse, and have a lot of energy. It takes some of the best qualities from all of Vivian’s dogs.” He moves a hand up to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. “So…what’s the verdict?”

“Um, I uh,” I stammer, suddenly unsure of what to say. “Dogs are a big responsibility, but you know how much I love them. Thank you for such a sweet gift, hun, but—”

“Come on, look at him. He likes you, and he wants to stay.”

“Are you asking me to move in?”

“No,” he says confidently. “But Buddy can live here until whenever you feel you’re ready.” He kisses the spot on my neck that he knows is hardwired to my core. “Or when I get tired of waiting,” he whispers.

“Really?” I moan, already wet with need.

“Really. Don’t put it past me to throw you over my shoulder in Brooklyn and bring you and your stuff here one day, doll. Besides, you’re about to lose a roommate any minute now.”

I look over at him, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He cocks his head to one side. “Take a wild guess.”

Emily has been dating Dylan for months now. I’ve suspected that they’ve been getting more serious, but Jackson’s mention of the timing is interesting. “Wait, is he about to propose to her?”

He nods. “You didn’t hear it from me. For now, what do you think? Are we keeping Buddy?”

How can I say no to this little cutie? I wrap my arms around Jackson’s neck and pull him as close to me as I can without squeezing Buddy. “Yes. He’s a keeper. Kind of like you.”

Jackson pulls back and presses a firm kiss on my lips. “Good girl.” He looks down at our new fur baby. “And we’ll keep working on getting her here, won’t we, Buddy? Let’s get you settled in.” He takes Buddy in his arms and carries him off with the pet carrier, but whips around halfway across the room to look at me. “You’re staying over tonight.”

“Sure,” I say.

“That wasn’t a question, doll.”

“No? How did you plan on keeping me here if I said no?”

Smiling broadly, he waggles his eyebrows, then leaves the room.

I know that look.

* * *

Hours Later

The sound of Jackson stepping out of the master bathroom makes my breath hitch. The desire to look at him is overpowering, but I can’t right now. He’s blindfolded me and tied my wrists to each bed post. With the exception of my sparkly Christian Louboutin stilettos, I’m naked. My body is cold, and I’m soaking wet for him. The heat of his strong, muscular legs straddling me sends smoldering heat all through my body. Just knowing he’s probably already hard, his thick erection so close to my aching core, has me ready to beg.

We’ve done this several times before, and although I love how it feels, my arms never get used to being bound. There’s always a point where I want to wrap them around him and mold myself to his body. Like right now, except it’s difficult enough to move my head off the bed, let alone move my arms.

Jackson’s weight shifts forward on the bed, and a second later, his hot breath is at my ear.

“Tell me who owns you, doll,” he growls into my ear.

“You do,” I breath out.

He lowers on top of me, and his hot, rigid erection presses up to my lower body, causing my core to clench as I lift my hips and rub against it.

“You’re moving in with me. This weekend.”

“What?”

“Say it,” he orders, and slides a hand down to one nipple, twisting it and causing a wicked mix of pleasure and pain.

“Oh God. Yes. I’m moving in this weekend,” I moan.

“That’s right,” he rumbles out a laugh. “And I’ll take you however I want. Whenever I want.”

“Yes,” I moan.

“Say it.”

“You can take me however and whenever you want to.”

“Exactly,” he whispers, hovering his lips close to my ear.

I swallow the lump in my throat, but it doesn’t stop my body from reacting to his voice. I wrap my leg around his hips, craving more contact with his cock, and his hands slowly slide up my outer legs, to my waist, then runs past my breasts and neck, until he has one hand buried in my hair.

“Beg for it,” he commands, reaching his other hand down to cup my ass.

Jackson knows the power he has over me. He also knows how much I crave him.

“Please,” I whimper, tightening the grip of my legs around his waist. My inner walls pulsate, desperate for him to fill and stretch me. “Please Jackson. Take me hard.”

In one fluid movement, he positions himself at my opening with one hand, tightens his grip on my ass cheek with the other, and drives his cock deep into my core. The sound of my breathy hiss mixes in with his groaning. As he moves in and out of me, my stiletto heels dig into his back, and my toes curl inside the shoes.

Jackson continues to bury into me, all the way to the hilt, taking me close to that rush of intensity, to that overwhelming peak I’m desperate to experience again. As he picks up speed, the sound and feel of his balls slapping my ass bring me even closer. With a flick of his thumb against my clit, an intense wave of pleasure courses through me, taking me to a blinding climax that almost makes me scream.

“Don’t hold it in. Call my name,” he orders me, thrusting into me with more force than before.

“Oh God, Jackson,” I cry out.

He lets out a painful groan, and his body stiffens as he explodes deep inside of me. With his forehead pressed against mine, his hips roll on through his orgasm, slowing down as his hot release fills me. A while later, he releases my bindings, lifts off my blindfold, and pulls me into his arms. Jackson claims my mouth with a firm, demanding kiss, then slowly pulls his head back.

There’s a playfully wicked glint in his eye. “You can’t take it back,” he says with a laugh.

I bury my head into his chest and let out a weak giggle. “I was under duress.”

“I love you, and you’re moving in, doll.”

Nodding into his chest, I squeeze him tighter. “Yes. I’m moving in. And I love you too.”