When I'm With You

Three days ago, in what would appear to be one hell of a night for some bored kids, my house and two surrounding it had met the sun with a yard full of toilet paper. Enough toilet paper it almost looked as if we had a snow day.

Not wanting to even deal with that for a second, I hired someone to come clean up the mess. I had enough going on with getting my painting done in half the time I would normally spend on a piece.

Yesterday, my mailman had apparently decided to try his hand at crash test dummies. I got home from the grocery store to find my mailbox trampled in a vibrant display of shattered wood and crushed metal.

And now, the damn bird feeder is murdering my feathered friends.

I swear nothing is going my way this week. I can only hope that with Nate coming over now, I’m not about to have another wave of bad luck.

After grabbing the second bird and carrying it to the trashcan with my arm completely outstretched, I snap off my glove and throw that in as well. Bam trails behind me the whole time, his thick head looking all over the yard as his tongue hangs lazily out of the side of his mouth. The big beast has been attached to my side since Levi almost took my head off last week. I’ve almost broken my neck more times than I can count because he decided to move his bed in the corner of my studio and drag it directly behind where I stand. I’ve even woken up to him in my bed four times this week, which is something the big pup had never done before. You would think that when a two-hundred-pound dog clambers up to your bed at night, you would wake up, but not me.

“Ember?” I hear called from the front yard, and I look down when Bam takes off with a bark around the side of the house.

So much for being my big shadow, I guess.

I follow his path, going around the house instead of inside. When I find Nate crouched down, Bam is happily soaking up the attention as he scratches him from head to tail.

“Bam, here,” I call sharply, but just roll my eyes when he flops his huge mass down on the grass and sticks all four legs up waiting for Nate to give his belly the same attention.

Nate laughs but gives Bam what he wants for a minute before standing and brushing his hands against his jeans. Jeans that I should note are molded to his thighs and highlight the bulge in his crotch. I watch, my eyes almost crossing, when the bulge in question visibly twitches beneath the denim.

“Em, please don’t. I can’t handle another reminder that my cock doesn’t know how to behave.”

I snap my eyes to his, wide with shock at his words. “Uh … I’m sorry?” Really, what else could I say right now?

“Long story, but please don’t be offended if I end up walking funny soon.”

I can feel my cheeks heat the second I visualize him having to walk funny because of an erection.

“Did you want to go get a bite to eat?” he asks, making me stop thinking about his dick and try to form big girl sentences.

“I cocked. I mean I’m cocking. Fuck.” I bet my face is bright red now. How embarrassing.

“Right, so you’re making dinner?” he questions, moving his hand to adjust himself. I watch his long fingers work the raised denim with a groan deep in his throat. “Let’s go inside, Em, and please let me go first. I’m not sure I can handle seeing those shorts going up the stairs.”

I follow mutely, not really sure what just happened.

Nate walks in and follows Bam as he excitedly rushes through the house and into the kitchen, his nails tinkering across the wooden floors as he leaps and jumps in front of Nate.

I watch his ass.

He freely admitted he would have done it to me, so it’s only fair.

And what an ass it is.

He moves around my space as if he’s spent every day here. He grabs Bam’s food bowl, filling it up, and then repeating the process with his water. He moves to the stove and lifts the lids, stirring the pasta sauce before grabbing the spaghetti noodles I had been waiting to put in until the water boiled. I just stand there mutely as he makes himself at home.