Page 4 of Hard and Unprotected

“Bowzer’s a pit bull,” came his drill reply. “I think we’ll pass on the vegan treats.”

My smile was understanding.

“Just wanted to make sure you knew. Follow me, please.”

With that, I spun on one heel, walking briskly to Aisle Three.

“Here it is,” I gestured to a vast array of foods, stacked from floor to ceiling, every kind possible.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” were my breezy words, and then I was gone.

“Thanks,” his deep voice called after me. “Appreciate it.”

So maybe there was some sarcasm there. Maybe this wasn’t a guy who appreciates vegan doggie meals and animal treats fortified with goji berries and quinoa. But hey, canines can be like humans. Or more accurately, humans are humans no matter what, and pet owners can be picky parents.

So I waltzed off, cheeks still slightly pink. Hopefully, I’d redeemed myself with my encyclopedic knowledge of dog food. Ha. Hardly. More like the alpha thought I was a nitwit who talked to much, a total nincompoop when it came to men.

Because it’s true actually. I’m a virgin so my experience with the male sex isn’t exactly extensive. It’s close to zero. That time with Marty Jenkins doesn’t count because I couldn’t bear to let him get within two inches of me, even though he tried.

“Come on,” Marty pleaded, stinking hot breath blowing in my face. The guy had had garlic with dinner, and didn’t know to brush afterwards.

“No Marty,” I said, batting his hands away. “We’re supposed to be studying, not doing this.”

“Doing what?” he whined. “I’m not even doing anything, you won’t let me!”

Exactly. And that’s how things were going to stay. Slamming my book shut, I stood.

“Marty this isn’t going to work. We can’t be study partners anymore,” I announced.

The adolescent boy leaned back in his seat, picking at those yellowed teeth. I couldn’t help but notice he had a dark brown cavity on his left incisor, rotted and painful-looking.

But the teenage boy was done with me as well. He sneered.

“You’re never going to be a vet,” came those nasty words. “You’ve got years and years ahead of you, girl. And this class? On animal physiology? Please, you’re never going to pass.”

My ears burned, face growing red. It’s true I was only at step one of a multi-phase process. But why did he have to belittle my goals? I’d make it, someday.

“Don’t say that,” came my stiff words, picking up my book bag. “Don’t even talk to me anymore.”

Marty guffawed again.

“Don’t worry,” he sneered. “I won’t. You’re just a tease, Maggie, walking around in that tight sweater. Not worth it at all,” he huffed angrily.

My mouth dropped open. The sweater wasn’t tight! It was just a plain cotton crewneck from the Gap.

But that’s how my body is. Every top highlights my girls, the luscious Double Ds unstoppable, jiggly and soft, curving generously. But what were my options? To wear a garbage bag? Swath myself in a sheet?

So I didn’t even dignify his comment with an answer. Lips pressed in a tight line, I swept out of the library, head held high. I wasn’t going to let a loser like Marty get to me.

But everything with Bowzer’s owner was different. That blue gaze roaming over my curves sent sizzles down my spine. I’d gone hot and then cold and then hot again, unlike the constant creepy crawly feeling in Marty’s presence.

And suddenly, the alpha reappeared at my shoulder.

“What else do you think I should get?” came that deep-throated growl.

Oh my god! I’m such an idiot. I’d been standing there in the middle of the aisle, lost in a daydream. Specifically, a fantasy about this man right here. So I looked up, brown eyes wide.

“Um, what do you have on hand again?”