Can't Touch This (Can't Touch This #1)

My gaze dropped to her hands.

She had very pretty hands. Strong fingers with pale pink painted nails. Capable for delivering salvation. I wouldn’t admit it, but I had some nights where I fantasised about her petting me and not just the dogs I brought in.

My hug tightened around Pikachu as he trembled. If I could smell bleach and disinfectant, it must burn his sensitive little nose.

“So this is the latest in need, is it?” She smiled at Pikachu who sniffed the air, trying to pinpoint her scent.

The wiener dog should’ve been called something like Bun Boy or Ketchup to play on his frankfurter shape, but his previous asshole owners didn’t care about names. They’d called him Shit Stain.

Which I refused to use.

So, I’d given him the nickname of the latest idiotic Pokémon craze after almost running over a few ‘poke ball hunters’ on the way here.

“Yep. He was found in an abandoned rental apartment where the owners were evicted a month ago. He’s been living on rotting food in the pantry until he ran out and started howling.”

Whatever trace of annoyance she still held melted away as utmost sympathy filled her face. She drifted closer. “Oh no, you poor poppet. Did those nasty people not take care of you?”

The dog who’d been shivering as if I was about to put him on the BBQ with some fried onions instantly squirmed to get closer to her. His stupid banger-shaped body wriggled in need.

He whined as she kissed his nose. I did my best not to sniff her hair or perve down her top. Her closeness had muscles contracting and body parts swelling.

Christ, this woman did things to me.

Gritting my teeth, I let her pat the pooch. Her affection seemed random, but her hands drifted from his ears, along his neck, to the stark skeleton beneath his faded chocolate coat.

“He’s severely dehydrated. How long have you had him?” She looked up. Having her so damn near and staring with intense concentration made my cock disobey and swell in want.

I swallowed a groan as a stray blonde hair curled around her face from her loose ponytail. Normally, I went with women with more padding, more makeup, more interest in me and my little friend (excuse me, wrong word choice, big friend in my pants).

But there was something about this one. “Only a few hours.”

Thankfully, her eyes didn’t drift to my groin as her hands continued fluttering over Pikachu. “He needs to undergo some blood work to make sure the starvation hasn’t affected his kidneys. Are you okay with that?”

“Of course.” I cleared my throat. “Whatever you need to make him happy.”

“I guess I’ll just put it on your tab? Seeing as you’re our most frequent visitor.”

I stiffened. “Is there a law stating I can only visit every six months?”

She flinched. “Sorry, of course not.” Looking at Pikachu again, she asked, “Where do you get all these dogs, anyway?”

Finally, a question about me and not the welfare of the animals I brought in. A few meetings ago, I would’ve answered openly with no douche-baggery. But my hackles were up. I’d built walls to protect myself. I’d learned the hard way that women could be cruel.

But I liked her.

Therefore, she scared me.

“Hey…” I smirked. “I can’t help it if the bitches flock to me.”

She rolled her eyes. “That quip might’ve been smart if you only brought in female dogs.” She clucked her tongue. “Unfortunately for you, your past few patients have been male.” She cocked her head, her ponytail clinging to her shoulder in all its curly glory. “Does that mean you’re gay, Mr. Carson?”

What? Is that why she lost interest in me?

She thinks I’m gay?

I narrowed my eyes. “Did you just think of that come back or have you been dying to inquire about my relationship status since we met?”

Her cheeks pinked. “I have no interest in your sexual or marriage status.”