Page 24 of Doggy Style

“I can’t believe you’re even saying that. You saved all those dogs. You’re totally making a difference.”

She doesn’t respond. The plane pulls back from the gate and taxis to the runway. Yessi bites her lip, and I can tell she’s nervous. A thought occurs to me.

“Have you ever flown before?”

“No,” she reluctantly admits, and her breathing is picking up.

I grab her hand. As the plane takes off, she squeezes my hand tightly. She turns her head toward me, and I meet her gaze. After an intense moment, she looks away.

Once we reach our cruising altitude, we recline our seats. I’m enjoying this forced intimacy. I realize how fucked up my life has been lately. As pathetic as it sounds, I haven’t spent this much time with a woman recently without sleeping with her. Even our kiss was incredibly special. I usually only kiss right before I have sex. Enjoying the intimacy of just a kiss is nice.

“How’d you get into the rescuing?”

She exhales, and a pained look takes over her beautiful face. “I saw a post on Facebook a few years back with this picture of a pug mix. I lived right near the shelter, and a rescue was asking someone to go pull the dog and take him to their vet. Seemed easy enough. But at the shelter, I saw the faces of a bunch of little doggies. There was this one, a Chihuahua. Had the cutest little whiskers.”

She gulps, and I feel guilty for asking her this question.

“Anyway, I pulled the dog I was supposed to get and brought him to the vet. But I couldn’t forget about the Chi. The next day, I found out that they had killed him.” She looks out the window toward the clouds. “And I’ll never forget his little face. I could’ve saved him, but I did nothing. That’s how I started. And now, I can’t quit. It’s like the mafia, except we’re all broke and our fur coats are made of dog hair.”

A lump grows in my throat. I had no idea how bad the local shelters were. Hugh told me he’d done a ton of research and that they only killed sick and unadoptable dogs, and I’d trusted him. I was focused more on marketing and branding, but that’s no excuse.

I should’ve paid more attention to where we found our dogs. The dogs we’ve received from the breeders seem to be healthy.

But I never saw their mothers.

“I’m sorry. I had no idea how bad the shelters are. But you know you can always offer your dogs up for adoption at our store.”

She narrows her eyes at me and raises her voice. “I appreciate that, but that’s not enough. You have to stop selling puppies, Preston. Our dogs can’t compete with yours. Your store could be this amazing shelter-dog rescue center. You can save so many lives.”

I nod my head but refuse to commit to anything just yet. It’s not that simple. I have to make a profit from this store. I need to run some numbers and create a new business plan. And I know that I’m up for a fight with Hugh if I go this route. I don’t want to make a promise to Yessi I can’t make good on. Hugh would say, “Don’t let your cock make promises that you can’t keep.”

Her face glows with hope, but guilt crashes over me.

Will I be able to keep the business sustainable if we just adopted out rescue dogs instead of selling purebreds? I can sell a purebred goldendoodle for three thousand dollars. Adopting out a dog for two hundred and fifty dollars definitely won’t pay the bills.

But I still have a couple of weeks to figure it out. Get some more information from her and present it to Hugh. Deep down, I know he’s a good guy, even if he is a little rough around the edges. He should do the right thing.

She excuses herself to use the bathroom, and I can’t help thinking about how much I would love to finally indulge in my fantasy of joining the mile-high club.

Maybe I’ll get to on our flight home.

She returns to her seat a few minutes later and smiles at me. “Do you mind if I take a nap? I’m so exhausted. I was up all night with the dogs, trying to get all their stuff together, plus packing for myself.”

“Not at all. We’ve got hours before we land. Make yourself comfortable.”

She props a pillow against the window, curls her tight little body up into a ball and closes her eyes. Within five minutes, she’s out cold, her breath going in and out in slow beats.

I’m dying to rub her sexy little feet, make her moan with ecstasy.

But I need to go slow with this girl. She doesn’t seem to be the type to get swept off her feet by romance.

Guess there is only one thing I can do.

Make her see that I’m more than a jerk with a sex tape.