Page 57 of His Pet

“You want to spend more time with me,” I repeat in disbelief, my mind busy coming up with ideas and shooting them down.

I guess I could let him roam the house when I’m home.

No, that’s too risky. I get too absorbed in sketching and who knows what Justin would do with such freedom. Maybe a chain, though? Or a leash. Damn, he would look good with a collar and a leash, following me around on all fours like a good little pet. And at night…

I could take him to my bed. Or maybe the one in the basement to test it out. I’ve never slept in a bed with a pet that wasn’t drugged or tied down. Can I trust Justin not to try to stab me in my sleep?

Hmm. Maybe I can just remove sharp objects from the basement kitchenette. Then I can hold Justin all night long. Damn, why haven’t I done that before? He’s such a cuddly little thing. I should have spent every night with him instead of tossing and turning in my cold, empty bed while leaving Justin alone in the cage.

I love the cage for what it represents, but maybe confining the pets to spend their whole lives in it wasn’t the best idea.

Look at me, admitting a mistake. Mature as fuck, right?

“Okay. I’ll keep you by my side when I’m at home.”

“Really?” Justin hesitates. For an agonizing moment, he just stares at me. Then his eyes light up like it’s Christmas. He trips as he throws himself at me, nearly sending us both tumbling to the floor. “Thank you! Thank you so much. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“You better be,” I grumble, my words lacking any bite. I wrap my arms around Justin as he sits astride my lap, the coffee table creaking ominously under our combined weight. It’s worth the money my interior designer paid for it, though, because the glass holds.

“You can’t come with me to work, though,” I warn, already trying to figure out how that’s going to work. Current mess notwithstanding, I often spend long hours at clients’ houses or in my studio. There was a time when I was so swamped with work that I slept there for a week straight. Obviously, that’s not an issue now, but once my name is cleared, I’ll get back into the groove.

Justin burrows his face into the folds of my shirt and sighs. “I understand. I wouldn’t cause any trouble, but… Yeah, I get it.”

An image of Justin kneeling by my side as I work flashes in my mind. Tempting. I could get my cock sucked whenever the client needs a break. I could have him massage my stiff muscles. Hell, I could have him warm my cock in his mouth while I ink bullshit Bible imagery on someone’s back. I know for a fact that a lot of my customers wouldn’t mind. In fact, they might even love the idea.

And now I’m in love with that idea too, but dammit, I can’t just parade my captive around the city! That would be insane.

Although if Justin wants to stay, is he still a captive?

Fuck, this is too complicated.

As much as I hate the phrase “baby steps” because babies are gross, not to mention surprisingly fast, that’s what we need to do now. “One step at a time.” There, that’s better. No snotty infants involved.

“That sounds great,” Justin whispers, burrowing deeper into me. Cuddles. That’s what he wanted, and I’m an idiot for not realizing it sooner. We could have avoided this entire zombie alert.

We both jump when my phone rattles against the glass surface of the table.

I freeze at the sight of Alfredo Rossi’s name on the screen. What does he want? He’s made it clear he believes the lies Giovanni Ventresca has been spreading about me and refused to even hear my side of the story. Triton Syndicate has been steadily gaining power, making Rossi one of the most powerful people in the city. If he decided to take me out, I wouldn’t last a day, but would he call ahead to announce my death sentence?

Justin looks at me, worried. “Trouble?”

He’s worried for me. That’s new, and I secretly love it. When was the last time someone was worried about me? Except Mikhail, but I’m not fucking Mikhail. We tried once, but quickly discovered that when you put two dominant people in one bed, sexy times turn into fighting times. We work better as friends.

The phone vibrates again, reminding me of its existence. Alfredo Rossi. Trouble or hope?

“I don’t know,” I reply truthfully, “but I have to take it.”

“Alright.” Before I can stop him, Justin slips off my lap and gives me one of those smiles I’ve missed so much. “I’m not going anywhere, Sir.”

Chapter 37

Justin

Cameron is pacing the other side of the monstrously large living room, the phone glued to his ear. He looks nervous, but not angry, which is an improvement compared to the last few days. I leave him to his dealings and let myself be drawn to the glass wall instead. It faces southwest, so I can’t see the sun from here, but I can watch the way it brightens the world outside as the rays of light spill into the garden. I slip onto my knees, so close that my breath fogs the glass, and just look outside, letting my mind sort through everything that just happened.

Cameron apologized to me.

I still can’t believe it. Not only did he realize he was wrong, but he actually apologized, something he clearly doesn’t do often if his awkward mumble is any indication. This must mean he doesn’t see me merely as a disposable sex toy, right?