Obedience Lessons

Chapter Three

This time I blatantly perused his wealth. I checked every jar and moved as many portraits and picture frames just to be rude and intrusive. His parents were all smiley in the photos, just like every fake happy rich family appears in photos, perfectly still, all ready for the camera with every pearly white on display. Real families have the idiot uncle that blinks, or the doofus cousin that makes bunny ears over your head. I felt a flash of pity before quelling it, Dylan didn't want or deserve my pity.

I was in the middle of eating his candy canes that I'd found on top of a cabinet in the halls. Freak, it was barely October. I ate the candy canes anyway and was in the middle of lasciviously licking one when he descended the stairs. He had changed into comfortable trousers that ended just above his knees, exposing firm, bronzed calves. A cute blue button down brought out his deep blue eyes. Those eyes went dark when he noticed the candy in my mouth, then he slowly finished his descent, eyes on me all the while. I stared back innocently, "Is something the matter?"

"Those are my favorite," he said, "Makes me think of Christmas all year long." He sounded as if he had to explain his candy choices, as if I wasn't already intruding. Almost compulsively he began to rearrange his frames. "Sure, pawn anything you like then," he muttered sarcastically.

"Didn't need your permission anyway," I replied. "Let's go. I have plans tonight." If going home to beat off before bed counted as plans... then yeah, hectic schedule.

He didn't call me out on it, only silently led me to his car. "Seat belt," I said when he was driving through his gates.

"My car." He clenched his jaws.

I rose my eyebrows. "Do you like living? I mean you have a lot of shit to lose right?"

He rolled his eyes and snapped his seat belt into position.

"Good boy."

His hands tightened on the wheel. "Stop doing that," he ground out between his teeth.

"Doing what?" My heart raced. Shit. I'd done it again, my second head's brain was getting smarter at taking control.

"Treating me like I'm some kind of dog."

"You're lucky I'm not you then. If I was treating you like you treat dogs, you'd be getting a replacement pair of legs like Spotty."

"I said I was sorry, okay?"

"What are you five? And no Dylan. You didn't say you were sorry."

He stayed quiet until we pulled into the parking lot of the supermarket. And only then spoke to ask if I was coming. I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something dirty as I followed him. That ass though. The things I could do to that ass.

"Dog chow, food and water bowls, shampoo, towels, treats... is this... some kind of joke?"

I grinned, I'd written on the poop scoop. "Is there a problem?"

"You do know I'd just hire a trainer and get another maid right?"

"Not if you want Channel 7 to stay outta your anus."

"Seriously, you have some kinda kink for making me uncomfortable?" He was looking at the aisle signs, looking very close to lost.

I shook my head, he had no idea how close he was to the truth. Of course, my true idea of uncomfortable was having my legs amputated like poor spotty, but I'd given him enough shit about that for the day anyway. "Yeah. Turns me on."

"Do you know where the pet food aisle is?" He whirled on me suddenly and I collided with him with a muffled 'Ooof'. It felt like walking into a wall of muscle. He smelled really good too. Probably some expensive cologne. Not quite... maybe some kind of musky soap.