*Story containes MATURE & EXPLICIT CONTENT*
THIS IS A SEQUEL / PART 2.
Read "Stall" before this book, unless you just like spoiling things for yourself. If that's the case, you do you boo.
"Something can be both delicate and violent"
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Harry lowe...
"I know that look when I see it in your eyes The lights are on but there is no one inside It seems like every time we touch I break like a wave So come on baby, let's get dirty, give me the pain"
Welcome back My dudes.
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This is the reason Ludo is getting love handles.
He associates the word nap with food.
Whenever Harry puts him in his room, he always gives him treats which I think is to suffice his own guilt because he hates being separated from Ludo; even if it's just in another room.
He once said that he worries that Ludo thinks he's in trouble when he puts him in his room, but I pointed out that the half his body weight in treats and mountain of toys would negate that for him.
Is being placed in a room that's like a Disneyland for dogs with a buffet really a punishment?
He tried once, to leave Ludo out and see if he would just ignore it and go off to sleep somewhere when I had finally convinced Harry that we weren't traumatizing our dog with coitus sounds.
Harry copped a curious nose up the butt and from that day on, he's never tried it again since.
Ludo goes for his naps with no exceptions.
Harry had ordered me to stay put on the counter after he melted my brain with kissing me until I was a panting mess, before he put Ludo to bed and I was honestly going to do as I was told.
I really was.
But the ice was melting.
Harry had left makeshift the dish towel ice pack next to me and while he was taking his sweet ass time the ice started to melt into the fabric and soak into my jeans.
So, I thought there'd be no harm in just tipping it into the sink and hanging the dish towel over the tap so I can remember to toss it into the laundry later.
My hand is still throbbing, but it's subsiding a bit.
"Feeling disobedient today baby?"
Harry's loud warning voice booms from behind me, startling all hell out of me as I jolt and spin around to his direction from where I'm stood at the sink.
Harry is standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his arm perched above his head; now minus a shirt and his jeans are barely clinging to his hips, sitting unbuttoned with his zipper drawn down.
I gulp, I can't help it.
His head his tilted with his eyes lowered at me and I know that look, it's gut twisting, it makes your knees want to give out from underneath you.
