FandGGoingBackforSeconds by Sasha Devlin Cristal Ryder A.M. Griffin Amy Ruttan

Author:Sasha Devlin, Cristal Ryder, A.M. Griffin, Amy Ruttan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing Inc.
Published: 2013-02-20T05:00:00+00:00

Wild Wolf at Midnight

Amy Ruttan

“Would someone turn that shit off and turn on the damn game. I’m freaking tired of the Dog Psychiatrist. Christ!”

I took a sip of my rum and Coke and turned away from the TV. I didn’t mind in the least. Hell I lived it on a daily basis, as I was the proclaimed Dog Psychiatrist in the flesh. The barkeep shot me a sympathetic grin.

“It’s okay, I’ve seen it,” I joked.

The barkeep smiled, giggled and changed the channel to the Oilers hockey game. It was a welcome change. I had been on a whirlwind tour for the past eight months promoting my show and helping people understand their canines better by psychoanalyzing them.

“Your dog feels ignored and neglected, that’s why she’s taken to making a boom boom on your Persian rug.”

“Even dogs have rebellious teen years.”

All the while I was analyzing people’s dogs I was also promoting my latest book, It’s More than just Puppy Love: The Deep-Rooted Emotions, Desires and Anxieties of Man’s Best Friend.

I understand dogs, but I don’t understand men. Hell, I don’t understand most humans. It was probably why I was still a freaking virgin at thirty-two.

My tour and endless hours spent analyzing people’s Shih Tzus, Labradoodles and what-have-you was leaving me burned out and with no time to rectify my current situation. Perhaps it would grow over, like that old saying if you don’t use it, you lose it.

There was only so much manual stimulation I could take. What I wanted was to feel a man’s body pressed against me, taking me roughly, fucking me.

My agent told me I needed to get laid because I was too uptight.

Hell, I was wound like coiled spring, so much so I might rocket into space.

I swigged back the rum and Coke, screw sipping, and it burned going down.

Fuck.

Which is exactly what I wanted to do and there wasn’t a man in this bar worth doing. There were a lot of truckers, not that they were taboo, but most were over fifty and with big beer bellies and red faces. Then there was the Oilers fan, who was shouting and raving at the television like a half-crazed lunatic. Not one of these men would I consider having sex with.

“Hit me again.” I ordered from the barkeep and slapped down another five-dollar bill.

Bouncy Castle, the stacked barkeep, grinned and stuck the bill down the front of her top, her silicone breasts jiggling like some kind of demented bouncy castle. “Sure, Dr. Cummings.”

“Just Liz.” I wasn’t really a doctor. Just another label slapped on me. At least it paid the bills, but I had a huge fear of being stuck in a restaurant and some big fat guy going into cardiac arrest while they shout for a doctor. No, no. I’m not a real physician, I just pretend to be one so I can make up shit about your dog’s feelings.

“Hey, maybe later you can come by and see my Great Dane, Liz. I think he’s depressed.” Bouncy leaned over and whispered it, like it was something horrible that her dog was depressed.

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