already taken my shower, I decided to just join him—and possibly wash his back.
While he was washing his hair, I watched as the soap suds rolled down his body in rivulets. Going over the speed bumps he called abs, seeping into the nest of dark curls that surrounded his still semi-erect cock, and then curling around his balls to fall down his legs.
Glancing up at his face to make sure his eyes were closed, I reached forward and poked his cock. Lightly. Oh, so lightly. Just to see if he could feel it.
I quickly glanced up at his face and saw him peek an eye open at me.
“You felt that?” I asked.
He flashed a grin at me. “Yeah.”
I waited for him to close his eyes again, and then did it all over again, trying to touch a different spot this time, as well as trying to go for lighter.
I glanced up at him in time to see his lips tip up at the edges.
“That, too?” I asked.
His grin went wider. “Yes.”
I did it all over again, not bothering to look up this time. “What about then?”
“Yes.” He paused. “The head of a man’s cock is the most sensitive part of his body. Trust me when I say, there’s likely never going to come a time when I can’t feel that. And if there is a time, we should probably go to the emergency room, because something is wrong with me.”
Grinning, I reached forward and wrapped my hand around his cock.
“What about now?” I asked.
In answer, he pushed me up against the wall of the shower and said a few words against my lips.
“Do you want it from behind, or with your back to the wall?” he growled.
I reached for the soap and ignored his words, running my soaped-up hands all over the breadth of his shoulders.
“I think you should get to bed,” I admitted. “I have work to do, and you have to sleep so you can get up tonight and do your shift all over again.”
He growled and flipped me around. “From behind it is.”
Ten minutes later, he was lying in my bed naked, face down.
“Did you let your dog out?” I asked.
“Yes,” he sighed as he sank farther into the bed. “About halfway through my shift, then right before I got off. Booth played with him a bit this morning before coming to work, too. I’ll go over there before work tonight and let him out. I’ll get dressed over there, too.”
I thought about that for a long moment. “Why don’t you bring him over here? Do you mind if I go get him?”
“Not at all, but grab my dry cleaning bag, too,” he muttered, half asleep. “It would help me immensely.”
I went ahead and pulled the door closed behind me after that.
An hour later, after getting Bourne’s dog, a black lab named Moses, I worked him in the yard with my pups in training.
Two hours after that, my sister arrived home to say that she was only here long enough to grab clothes, then she was going to spend the day at Booth’s.
“Isn’t that Bourne’s dog?” she asked, eyeing Moses.
“Yep,” I said as I commanded, “Moses, sit.”
Moses sat.
He was a boisterous little devil that only stirred up more when he was around my rowdy little Cane Corso—and I say little meaning he was small for his breed at a cool one hundred and thirty pounds at two years old.
“Why’s he here?” she asked, looking across the street at Priscilla’s place where I knew she assumed Bourne was.
“I asked Bourne if he wanted me to bring him over here during the day, and he said he’d like that,” I answered, not quite lying, but definitely not telling the full truth, either.
“Huh,” she said as she walked up the front walk. “You should come meet Bobo. He’s really sweet.”
I’d heard about Bobo. Bobo was a retired military working dog that she got from one of her friends. I’d also heard that he was a little wild and scary. He’d also saved my sister’s life in an alley behind her work when her old childhood friend, Kerrie, had tried to strangle her.
If it hadn’t been for Bobo, who knows where Dillan would be right now.
“I actually had intended to stop by.” I paused. “I also heard that Malachi was going to adopt him.”
Malachi was one of the men that worked on the SWAT team with Bourne and Booth.
“He is,” she confirmed. “But I’m still going to go see him. I