Chapter 11
A soft but insistent woof dragged Mikhail out of a dream he was particularly enjoying. In it, he had Amy wrapped up tight in his arms, his face buried in her hair, his hand palming one of her soft breasts. The only downside in the dream was that they weren’t sprawled out on the comfort of his king-sized mattress. Instead, they were twisted up together on something the size of an army cot.
Another woof, this one sounding a little more desperate, was accompanied by a scratch at the door.
“Damn it, dog, if you leave claw marks on the woodwork, I won’t be happy.”
He finally forced his eyes open and started to sit up, only to find himself flailing for balance as he fell off the bed. No, not the bed. The couch. Not his couch, either, but Amy’s. He landed hard and banged his head on the edge of the coffee table on the way down.
At least he hadn’t dragged Amy to the floor with him. Right now he was biting back curses as he waited for the pain to fade to a manageable level. Sarge trudged over to check on him, snorting in his face and coating Mikhail’s skin with a sticky layer of bulldog love. Great, the morning just kept getting better and better.
Amy’s sleepy face appeared over the edge of the cushion, staring down at him in bewilderment. “Mikhail?”
“Yeah, I’m still here.”
By this point, Panda was yipping from the kitchen. Somebody needed to get up and let both dogs out. It appeared that Mikhail was the most likely candidate for that job. Grabbing onto the front of the couch and the edge of the coffee table, he leveraged himself up off the floor. Sarge trotted past him toward the kitchen to stand by the door. Mikhail let him out and then unlatched Panda’s crate. The puppy bolted past him to head outside with his buddy.
Watching to make sure he navigated the steps down to the grass safely, Mikhail stretched his arms over his head and twisted from side to side. His back popped and crackled from sleeping on the couch, but all things considered, it was still one of the most restful nights he’d had in a while. The reason for that joined him in the kitchen.
Amy sidled up next to him, her arm settling around his waist as she leaned her head against his arm. “Should I apologize for asking you to come over last night and then falling asleep on top of you so you couldn’t sleep in the comfort of your own bed?”
“I’d be mad if you did. Other than falling off the couch this morning, I actually slept great.”
In fact, there was nothing he wanted more right now than to get horizontal with her again, but this time he wouldn’t be interested in doing much sleeping. Despite his sleep-fogged brain and the knock on his head, he was pretty sure that wasn’t a good idea, even though he couldn’t quite remember why.
Considering how the front of his pants was tenting right now, his body was all for the idea even if his brain wasn’t. Judging from the flush on Amy’s face, she’d noticed the effect she was having on him, too. She backed away.
“Uh, why don’t I make us some coffee?”
Mikhail waited until she turned toward the counter to put his hands on her shoulders and tug her back against his chest. He kept his hands anchored firmly right where they were so he wouldn’t remind himself how perfectly her breast had fit his palm. “I can’t help how my body reacts to having you close by, but nothing’s going to happen that you don’t want to happen. Not now. Not ever.”
Although holding her close like this, with her delectable backside pressed right up against Misha Jr., didn’t help his good intentions at all.
“I know that, Mikhail.”
“Neither of us started out intending to spend the rest of the night sleeping on your couch, but all we did was sleep.”
She set the coffee canister back down. “I know, but I’ve never ever—”
Before she could finish, the phone rang. She lunged for the receiver like it was a life preserver. He stepped back out of the way to give her the space she obviously needed right now. Clearly, it was time to gather up Sarge and head back home.
“Hi, Mom, what’s up?”
Amy’s eyes tracked Mikhail’s every movement while he changed Panda’s water and dished up the puppy’s breakfast for him. Then he headed out to the backyard to round up the dogs. Panda trailed after Sarge as the older dog charged up onto the porch, but the little guy struggled to clamber up the steps. While Mikhail ensured Panda made it okay, he listened to Amy’s half of the phone conversation.
When he and the dogs came back inside, she was saying, “No, I’m not having trouble breathing. I was out on the porch watching Panda take care of business when the phone rang. I had to hustle back inside to answer it.”
Mikhail leaned in close enough to whisper near her ear, “Tsk, tsk, lying to your mom.”
—
“Hush!”
He smothered a laugh and kissed her on the cheek when she immediately lied again. “No, Mom, I don’t have company.”
Waving goodbye, Mikhail and Sarge started out the back door. When Panda tried to follow, Amy swooped down to capture him before he made good on his escape.
“That noise you heard was Panda growling at something he didn’t like out on the porch. A slug, maybe, or some other disgusting creature.”
