Chapter 7

BRAYLEE

There was something to be said about cats.

I'd had Geralt for four years and in those four years, the feline had not once, not ever, thought it a good idea to roll around in another animal's shit.

Dom's Pavement Special, however, had made it his life's purpose to locate any porcupine shit on the property, get it right under the short hairs of his tan coat, and proceed to show off his new ensemble during my hand-to-foot pose.

The stench was so foul I almost toppled off my yoga mat.

I raised my head to glare at the dog.

Trevor stood before me, wagging his tail, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, clearly proud and eager to show off his filthy endeavours. As much as I liked to think of myself as in-tune with my natural surroundings, I wasn't that into nature.

This was throwing off my chi.

And then Trevor launched himself at me.

I fell backwards on my ass, scrambling to get away, but the hound was faster and pushed against my chest and stomach with a playful eagerness.

I yelped, screamed, swore and managed to roll over, scrabbling gracelessly on all fours, and proceeded to bolt across the expanse of the yard.

"No, Trevor, NO! Stay, STAY! Bad dog, BAD. DOG!"

It was 7am and I'm sure my voice carried over to the other side of the valley where my neighbours slash landlords were probably only just waking up to their morning coffee. I sped across the expansive yard surrounding our house- of course, I had chosen to sprawl my yoga mat at the very perimeter of the property where a small hill looked out over the valley.

A shit-covered Trevor yipped merrily at my heels, believing this to be the best morning game a pup could ever have, all the while I sobbed and howled for him to leave me alone as I sprinted towards the house.

A few metres from the front porch, safety was within reach, but then the patio door slid open and Dom stepped out onto the stones.

Nothing but a towel about his waist.

I skidded to a halt- thoughts, sensibility, blood flow, general regard for wellbeing all coming to a sudden end.

To be replaced by heat... an all-consuming warmth that flooded my veins and over-rode my main processing core.

Dom was still wet, obviously from a shower I had inadvertently interrupted with my crazy-lady hollering, droplets of water glistening off the skin of his bulky torso, his hair darkened and laying flat against the shaven sides of his scalp and over his forehead. My eyes dragged over the expanse of flesh displayed for my viewing pleasure almost greedily, as if I had never seen a topless man before, as if I had never seen Dom like this before.

Which was ridiculous, and the way I was reacting to him was ridiculous because of course I had seen Dom without his shirt on before- plenty of times! I'd lived with him for a year in varsity, we had gone to the beach plenty of times, and to the pool.

So why was I temporarily transfixed by the sight of him now?

He was large, and I seemed to enjoy larger men- that much I knew. His shoulders were broad, defined by muscle and bulk, and his chest pectorals were wide slabs of muscle that began to taper off slightly. Dom didn't have a six-pack or anything like that. More like the muscle had been hidden by a healthy appetite and I didn't find the bit of belly on him off-putting at all. The towel hung low on his hips, cutting off his Adonis's Belt, but did little to hide the bulge between his legs, under the damp cotton of the towel.

Thankfully, my blatant ogling did not last long- because evidently the sight of Dom had made all of my brain cells take the first flight to Cambodia and abandon me to nothing but air between my ears since I had completely forgotten about Trevor.

The stupid dog cannonballed into me while I stood there gaping at Dom like a guppy fish.

Sprawled in the dew-covered grass, I had little time to come to terms with what had just happened before Dom was crouched over me.

About to haul Trevor off me.

"Wait!" I protested, groaning when I felt my hip protest with an ache from where I landed awkwardly on the ground. "Don't touch him!"

Dom held up his hands, frowning down at me and Trevor. The dog made a happy huffing sound and rubbed his scruff up and down my thigh. "You're weird, Bray, but not this weird."

"Har har." I propped myself up on my elbows and threw Dom a peeved look. "Your dog rolled around in porcupine shit again. I was trying to get away from him!"

"And failed, clearly." Dom's nose wrinkled. He propped his elbows on his huge thighs and then ran a hand through his wet mohawk, tousling the dark strands so that they stood up haphazardly and in weird angles. I was profoundly grateful that even though I found the way his bicep flexed and bunched wildly appealing, I was less affected by him overall than moments before. It seemed a shit-covered mutt-dog was the trick into knocking some much needed sense into Braylee Mitchells. "Firstly, that's what you get for doing the downward dog at wholly inappropriate hours all week."

"Normal people get up early, Dom!"

"Secondly," he went on, ignoring my indignant protest, "you're feeding the vermin at the perimeter. Of course they are going to burrow under the fence and shit all over the place."

"Are porcupines vermin?" I tilted my head to the side and considered our cute nocturnal visitors who enjoyed the scraps I put out near the compost pile at the edge of the property.

He shrugged those gorgeous shoulders of his. "Like I always say: fuck around and find out. Because that's what's gonna happen if you keep feeding them, Bray."

I gently pushed Trevor off me and twisted so that I was kneeling. "Well, I don't see why Trevor needs to roll around in their shit. That seems a bit of a weird thing for your dog to do... it's gross."

"It's in his nature, don't blame him for it. Besides, your cat shits in a box and ripped up my curtains yesterday. You don't see me complaining about it."

"You're complaining about it right now!" I rolled to my feet, and Dom stood, too. I began to brush at some of the filth covering my abdomen and thighs, but caught myself with a grimace of distaste. "Geralt is a sweetheart. I think he's very aware that you're not fond of him, which is why he acts out all the time in your room."

"Yeah, well, GTA is now prohibited from entering my room, thanks."

I bit back a smile at Dom's chosen nickname for my cat. He'd been dubbed Geralt The Asshole four days ago when my cat had decided that Dom's keyboard was his new favourite napping spot. When forcibly removed, Geralt would return, adamant that his new spot needed to be laid in. Apparently, the cat had messed up some important coding system Dom had been working on, and when reprimanded had proceeded to knock a cup of coffee off the desk in retaliation.

Dom worked with his room door closed since then.

Geralt spent most of his day perched outside it, waiting for an opportunity.

"Your dog should be prohibited from entering the house," I pointed out, sulking.

Dom's eyes ran over my body. "Speak for yourself."

"Yeah, well, I need to shower and burn these clothes, so if you'll excuse-"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Dom held up his hands again and stepped in front of me, barring my way inside the house. "What makes you think you're allowed inside the house?"

"I beg your pardon?" I placed my hands on my hips and considered him with a raised eyebrow. "Look at me! I'm covered in mud and shit because of your dog! I need a shower!"

"Exactly! You're covered in shit, and you're gonna track it through the entire house. We'll be smelling porcupine poo for weeks."

"So you're going to, what, keep me out here forever?"

"No, wait here."

Incredulously, I watched Dom turn on his heel and move around the edge of the house towards where the kitchen door led out to a small courtyard. Most of the gardening tools were kept there, though this knowledge was somewhere at the back of my mind while I fought to keep my eyes above the waist of Dom's towel and not on the cute curves of his ass as he trotted away.

Shamefully, I failed.

I shook my head, wondering what in the hell had gotten into me. After Tim and all the bullshit he put me through, I figured my libido had fizzled away. I seriously thought I'd never feel a whiff of attraction for another guy. I had even put it from my mind, knowing that I needed quite a bit of time before I could even be around a guy I could date. Even then, I knew it would be some time before I developed sexual feelings for them.

Sex had always been about connection for me- trusting, companionable, reliable intimacy developed through attention and time together. I'd tried a one-night stand once- it hadn't appealed to me because, back then, I had more connection with my vibrator than I had with the guy that took me home.

When Tim had betrayed the connection, I think in my mind he had somehow broken me. I doubted I'd make another one anytime soon. I hadn't looked at another guy in a way that indicated he had potential as a sexual partner in some time.

So the intensity I was viewing Dom with since we had moved in together was kinda astounding and I didn't know how to handle it.

Especially since he had been a bit standoffish since that first night. I have no idea why, but it seemed that Dom wanted to establish some clear boundaries between us living together and I couldn't blame him for not wanting to get too close. We'd been living together for almost a week now, and things had become more comfortable between us as time went on. The house was mostly unpacked and we had coordinated daily rhythms that worked for both of us. We were polite, friendly, and occasionally shared a meal or a drink together, but other than that our conversation seemed... stilted.

Dry.

It was odd.

These thoughts came to an abrupt end when Dom reappeared in his towel.

However, it wasn't the towel that caught my attention this time, it was the damning garden hose he had clutched in a fist, a steady stream of water emerging from the spout.