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“You’re just askin’ for trouble,” he tells me as if that’s going to do anything.

“Only if…” I have to take a beat because my pussy clenches, and we both groan in pleasure as my cunt flutters with a hint that I’m so close. “You’re the one…doin’…the detainin’.”

Some folks may say that was the wrong thing to say. However, they’ve never been thoroughly fucked by Dodger Abbott before because I would say it was the right thing to say.

He moves in and out of me so fast, I feel like he’s going to split me in two, and I’m going to feel him for days.

But I’d gladly do it just to recall everything that took place today.

All of it.

“Let me hear those sweet screams, Adeline,” he commands tersely. “I know you’ve got them pent up, waiting to break around my cock. I’m all yours afterward.”

I don’t know why his last commentary triggers it, but my orgasm splits and catapults throughout my body.

And that scream he wanted, he gets that and more. I tremble and barely breathe while it courses through me because I can’t.

Until Dodger’s mouth crashes into mine again, and he trembles his own release seconds later, to where we’re both leaning on each other because we’re spent.

And so completely content.

Finally.

11

ADELINE

He’s not here.

I woke up to his side of the bed empty, the sun shining brightly through his windows, welcoming the morning, so I traipsed into the kitchen searching for him.

Nothing.

And no Pickles.

My gaze quickly searches the doors and any possible escape route, but everything is buttoned up. Dodger wasn’t inside any of the spare bedrooms, and it’s not like he lives in a massive mansion that would take me hours to get through.

I’m instantly defeated that I woke up alone and now dog-less when I suddenly hear a male voice toward the backyard.

Walking to the door leading out to it, it’s unlocked, and I quickly find Dodger in a navy blue tee, dark jeans, and brown cowboy boots.

Chasing Pickles.

“Get over here, mutt,” he hollers out with the end of the hose in his hand. “Ya run outta here, I’m gonna tell her you did it.”

Pickles dips and dodges him, clearly not intending to run away in the open fields surrounding him and covered in soapy suds with his tongue hanging out in…joy?

He looks happy.

Like he’s enjoying Dodger getting all riled up and chasing him around to bathe him.

And, boy, does he look good running around the yard like that.

Clips of last night run rampant through my brain like I made them up, but I can still feel the effect of it between my thighs.

It happened.

And it’s so happening again because I can not let this man go.