An American Bulldog (2 page)

“Yes. I’m sure she—”

The vet laughed. The sound said she was teasing—knew exactly what was going on. He chuckled, feeling heat rise in his face, something he thought only happened to women. He gave a two-shoulder apology. “If she’s got a minute, that is.”

Dr. Lansing straightened her head—funky habit she had. “I’ll see if I can find her for you.”

Chapter Three

Taryn leaned against the inside of the employee’s bathroom door. Finally, her breathing returned to normal. Maybe she could go back to work now, but not to Exam Room Two. No, go on to the next client. Onward and upward. Wasn’t that what her granddad always said?

She moved toward the sink to throw water on her face. Good thing too; her face was red as Christmas lights.

That Bulldog guy must be thinking she was a nut case. Oh, what did it matter? The only time they saw each other was here, if the dog got sick or needed shots.

Pretty sad really. Sad that she went home every night imagining him waiting in the kitchen with dinner on the table, and him wearing aluminum foil, or a layer of whipped cream on top of a layer of maple syrup—the real stuff.

She wasn’t being entirely fair. She didn’t only imagine him in bed. She pictured them married, having coffee together then going off to work, and coming home exhausted to fall into each other’s—

A light knock came on the door. Taryn crumpled the brown paper towel and heaved it in the trash. Damn sad life she had, pining after somebody who was probably married with ten kids. Okay, decision made, next time that janitor guy asked her out, she’d say yes.

She twisted the knob and opened the door. But rather than step away to let her pass, the person moved into the bathroom, forcing her back against the wall.

The door—her only escape—shut. And she was face to face with…

Bulldog. The life-sized human version.

“What are you doing in here?”

“I asked the vet if I could see you.” He shot her a wide grin. “Pretty sure she’s playing matchmaker.”

She squashed the urge to race around him screaming into the hall, because wasn’t this what she’d been wanting? Taryn crossed her arms and peered up at him. He took a step closer. His huge hands came up. Up. And cupped each breast. Shocks, like she felt on her granddad’s electric fence, bolted down her legs. They wanted to buckle but she willed them to stay stiff.

His fingers tightened around her breasts. No pain, just wild sensations. Some came from his hands, others from the knowledge that they were in her place of work, and how embarrassing it would be if they were caught.

She didn’t move. He did. He came closer, unbuttoned her shirt, all the way. Then he took a nipple in his mouth and sucked. Sucked so hard she felt it hit the roof of his mouth.

One of them made a sound, like choking. Might’ve been her. Maybe not.

Somebody knocked. Taryn’s knees gave out. Bulldog’s hands grasped her upper arms and kept her from sliding to the floor. All the while, his mouth kept that suction on her nipple.

“Taryn, are you all right in there?”

All she could do was squeak.

Another knock. “Taryn?”

“Y-yes? Yes, I’m fine.” Triple-time fine. “B-be right out.”

Bulldog raised his head, licked his lips like a cat with a bowl of milk, then set to buttoning her shirt. “Ready to go?” he said.

“Wh-where?”

He thumped the dial of his watch. “It’s dinnertime.”

Last thing she wanted to do was eat, but if that was what he wanted. Right now, anything he wanted was A-ok with her.

He flicked a tear from her cheek and sucked it off his thumb. Then he opened the door and gestured for her to go first.

They drove to Bulldog’s apartment, a high-rise in the middle of the city. She started to get out, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I’ll be right back.” He let the dog out of the back seat.

She watched them prance up two stairs and disappear through a pair of glass doors. Wow, check out those calf muscles. She wondered what he did for a living that created such definition.

Why didn’t he want her to go inside? Messy? Roommates? No wife. Her female radar said he wasn’t married. He must not live on the top floor because he was back in a flash.

“Sorry, I thought Denver should stay at home,” he said as he climbed in.

They stopped at a fast food chicken place for a bucket to go. He drove out of the city. Traffic thinned, and so did the road. Soon, they were on a narrow dirt road—on what planet, she had no idea. For the first time in her life, she didn’t care.

Bulldog’s car was as big and strong as him—a green Suburban. She bounced on the passenger side like a marble in a can. Every time her bottom hit the seat, her pussy jingled, begged for something more. God, wouldn’t he stop the car? Or, better yet, wouldn’t the damned orgasm just come?

Ha! Wouldn’t that be something if she began shouting and quivering before he so much as put those lips back on her? Serve him right for sucking her to oblivion back at the clinic.

Finally, he pulled the car to a stop in a small clearing surrounded by tall trees. Dusk had fallen. Here in the cover of the trees, it was dark as midnight.

Bulldog tapped her hand lying on the wide seat. “C’mon.” From the backseat, he flung a blanket over his shoulder and took up the bag of food. “Can you carry the drinks?”

He thumped an arm across her shoulders and started along a root-strewn trail. She would’ve wrapped an arm around his waist, but needed both hands to carry the flimsy cardboard drink tray.

They walked about a hundred yards through the pitch-darkness. Taryn couldn’t keep from being a tiny bit worried. Yes, she’d thirsted for this guy, but didn’t know much about him. Okay, she didn’t know anything about him. Then why did she feel this need to follow? Why did she want to bear his children?

Chapter Four

Bulldog could hardly walk. Stupid ass. Touching her breasts at the clinic had been his undoing. Surprisingly, she hadn’t clobbered him. He suppressed a grin. If she had, the boner would’ve sagged, at least enough to get them here.

Since day one, he’d imagined the two of them in this place.

The first part of his dream was coming true. Here was where they’d have their first date. It was the place he would, down the road, propose to Taryn B. The place they’d conceive their first child, and maybe their second.

They strolled down the bumpy path toward Baxter Lake. He hoped she shared his opinion, that it was the most beautiful place on earth. Once they broke clear of the thick trees, the full moon would illuminate the narrow strip of beach, shine down on them as they ate their first meal together. And, if his luck held out, it would shine on them as they made love for the first time. But if the making love part didn’t work out tonight, that was okay.

Taryn’s “oooh” said she agreed with his assessment of the place. She stopped in her tracks, her hand slid from his. He set the bucket of chicken on the sand, took the drink holder from her and set it alongside the chicken. Bulldog started to stand behind her, but realized his raging hard-on might be construed as a prelude to rape, so he stood beside her and dropped an arm around her shoulders.

They stayed that way, hips touching—well, her hip against his right thigh—for a long time, taking in the glasslike water of the small lake, the chirp of crickets that didn’t quiet at their arrival, the creamy yellow moon, and the overwhelming serenity. The combination, along with the woman standing beside him smelling like disinfectant and dog fur, was an aphrodisiac of the most humongous proportions. And right now, so was his dick—of humongous proportions. Bulldog said a small prayer that it wouldn’t lead him into doing anything asinine, then unfolded the blanket and transferred the food to the center.

She came to sit on one side, he on the other. As he dished chicken and coleslaw onto plastic plates, he thought that life couldn’t get any better than this.

They were well into their second pieces of chicken before either of them spoke.

“So,” she said, “tell me about yourself.”

“I’m from Denver—hence the dog’s name, though he came from Boston. Had him shipped in at the age of eight weeks.”

She turned wide eyes on him. “You were eight weeks old when you got a puppy? Your parents let you?”

He gave her a play punch on the arm, then got serious. “My parents died in a car crash when I was three. I was brought up by my grandparents.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

He shrugged. “I barely remember them. The grandparents were awesome, just like real parents so I never lacked anything. As a matter of fact, I think they indulged me in some places parents wouldn’t have. I think they stayed especially close because they feared losing me too. Now, it’s your turn.”

“I’m from right here in LA. I grew up in a single-mom home with three sisters. We all worked hard though and we’re all on our own.” The conversation went on; they talked of their childhoods and their first relationships. It seemed like he could hold nothing back from this woman. Wanted to hold nothing back.

“Marry me, Taryn.”

Chapter Five

Taryn wasn’t sure she heard right. Had he just spoken the words, or had her brain conjured them out of the fantabulous night air?

He leaned down, not waiting for an answer—or perhaps fearing it—and laid his lips on hers. She felt herself kissing him, as though this might be a last meal. His hands landed on her breasts. Taryn wanted the shirt fabric out of the way and started to help, but he pushed her hands away, got to his knees, straddling her, and undid the buttons. Slowly. Too slowly, and yet not slow enough.

Bulldog bent over. His hot breath awakened her nipples. They came to attention—“yes, sir, anything you want to do, sir.” He licked one, then the other and she nearly came apart. Nearly became one with the blanket.

He sat up, keeping his weight off her legs, and removed his T-shirt. Oh gosh, he looked just like the guys in those jean commercials…

Except for the nipples. No guy in ANY commercial she’d ever seen, no guy she’d ever been with, had thick, huge nipples like that. Already erect, they stuck out like jellybeans. God, she couldn’t wait to taste them. To grab one between her teeth and nibble and suckle—like a starving baby.

Slow down, girl. Dumb to eat all the cookies in the jar at the same time.

Taryn feathered a hand up his stomach, stopping to trace a finger in his navel. The finger kept moving, as if on its own, into the crevice of one ab muscle, across to the other side. Bulldog’s breath hitched as she fingered a little higher. One side to the other, sampling and absorbing all she could about this man with only one name.

Finally, she had to touch one of those mouth-sized nipples. Just a tweak with two fingers. His breath did that funny in-out thing again and he leaned down. One second he had both hands on her breasts. The next, he’d sucked one of her nipples to the back of his throat. She couldn’t think any more. What he was doing—it was about the most erotic thing.

But it was her turn now. Taryn
had
to have her own taste. She pushed on his chest. He took the hint and sat up; her nipple popped from his mouth like a child’s pacifier. He rolled onto his back and she took her position, straddling him the way he’d done to her, except she had to sit behind the lump in his shorts. Being so loose, the shorts did nothing to hold it in place. What if his cock was proportionally as big as his nipples? If so, she was in huge trouble. Something that size…

She had to find out. Taryn curved her fingertips under the elastic waistband and eased the shorts down, down, and up, up over Bulldog’s taut penis. Oh god, oh god, oh god. She transferred the jogging shorts down those thick thighs, down those defined calves and off those bare feet. Where had his shoes gone? Oh heck, who cared?

The shorts landed beside the shirt. Taryn made her way back up his legs, kissing and fondling and nipping. The nips made him twitch and then groan. She grinned, wondering if he’d like her to do to his cock what he’d done to her nipple. Only one way to find out.

No preliminaries, she dropped down on the unsuspecting penis and sucked it right to the back of her throat. For a second she thought she’d hurt him because he sounded like he was gagging.

Chapter Six

Bulldog sat up like a rocket, his only thought to get her off him. If his dick hit the roof of her mouth one more time, he was going to go off like a firecracker. Only one thought, one focus tonight, to make this woman fall as much in love with him as he was with her. If it took ten cold showers when he got home, so be it, but he
would
leave her satisfied no matter what.

Taryn seemed to really like what he did to her breasts, but he suspected there was more—a lot more—to this tiny, dark-skinned woman. Bulldog encouraged her to lie back on the blanket. She looked a bit confused.  She probably thought he didn’t like her mouth on him. He shot her a reassuring smile. No words would be needed tonight. Tomorrow this angel could vocalize her needs and desires, but tonight was on him.

He nudged her knees apart, bent down and plunged his tongue into her sweet nectar, licking and tasting and nibbling. Not a sound came from her lips, but he didn’t need to look to know she craved this. Her legs sprang apart. Her fleshy lips parted like the automatic doors at the arena. Oh yeah, baby.

One, two, three, four laps of his tongue and one suck on her clit and she came, arching her back and propelling herself against his mouth. If he had this the rest of his life…

He laid forward on her, chest to chest, nose to nose, waiting for her heartbeat to slow and her breathing to return to normal. She lifted her face and kissed him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. He pulled back and repeated his earlier question, “Marry me.”

Still, he didn’t wait for an answer. Bulldog rolled off, dug into the pockets of his shorts and came up with a single condom. Just one. He wiggled it in the air.

She sat up and helped him roll it over the straining flesh. He hefted her onto his lap, poised her over his cock then lowered her onto it. They both groaned.