About The Dog Next Door

by Sean Michael
45 pages / 14200 words
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc, epub, Sony-optimized pdf

Keifer's a vet with a secret. Felix is his hunky next door neighbor. One weekend when they're both out enjoying a beautiful Saturday morning, Felix asks Keifer out for dinner and ice cream. One thing leads to another and the two discover that they're very compatible, in and out of bed.

Keifer's got that secret, though, and he's not sure exactly how to tell Felix about it and he's more than a little worried about how Felix is going to take it. What happens when the truth comes out unexpectedly, and that truth has a tail?
 

Sample

Keifer sighed, shook out his arms, then went to survey last night's damage.

It had been wild. He remembered the moon and music, running in the tall grass, chest pounding with the power of it.

The windows were all intact. That was good. The couch cushions were mostly all still there. Again, good. TV still had a screen. Good. Fridge open. He winced. That would explain the fact that he felt sort of like a python that had swallowed a buffalo. Whole. The entire refrigerator situation was more than a little disastrous, so he just kicked it shut and headed out to the patio.

His neighbor Felix was out in his yard, shirt off, leaning over the engine of a sweet '69 Corvette Stingray.

The man was built like a brick shithouse, his skin gleaming with sweat in the bright sunlight. Dark curls in desperate need of a cut exploded out of the top of Felix's head. The man had dark brown eyes and the prettiest lips Keifer'd ever seen on a man: thick and full and red.

Cursing, Felix straightened and flung a wrench toward a toolbox, cursing again when it sailed over top of it and landed in grass that needed cutting almost as badly as Felix's hair did. Felix ducked his head a bit when he noticed Keifer on his patio. "Sorry. She's being stubborn."

"Uh-huh. Sucks." He blinked a little more, feeling less hung over now and more just tired.

"Everything okay with that pup you were working on last night? He was making a hell of a racket. Not that I'm complaining, I just didn't realize you sometimes brought your work home with you."

"Huh?" Shit. "Yeah. Yeah, he's cool. He was just scared." And trapped in the fucking house, which always worked so well.

"You could always knock on my door if you need an extra pair of hands. I like dogs." There was something wistful in the way Felix said it.

"Yeah? You a dog man?" God, he needed a cup of coffee, if he was going to be so articulate without.

"Yep. I've had a few over time. Better friends than most men." Felix laughed suddenly. "Damn, it's too early in the morning to be maudlin. And for beer -- you want a lemonade?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. Thanks." He grinned and headed down, careful where he stepped.

Felix went over to a cooler and pulled out a couple cans of lemonade, passing one over.

"Thanks, man." He perched on the steps, letting the sun bake him. "So, what's wrong with the 'vette?"

Felix chuckled, the sound deep and sexy. "What's not? I bought her for a song, basically gutted."

"Ah." He wouldn't be able to fix something like that for love or money. Give him a cat or a dog any day.

"I own a place over on Main Street, making this kind of a busman's holiday, I guess. I love it, though. And she's going to be a beauty when she's done."

"Yeah? I understand that." Even though, right this second, he didn't have any animals at the house.

Felix took a long drink from his can, throat working, chest and belly muscles on wonderful display.

That was lickable.

Really, truly lickable.

Down boy.