Golden Luckenbooth

Five

"Good morning," I whisper to the sleeping Harry as I rise so early on Tuesday morning that the rooster hasn't yet stirred. Modesty has nothing to do with sneaking out of bed before the popstar is awake. I need to wee, but also I need to get my records in order in the clinic. Trying to make as little noise as possible, I grab blue jeans, a bra, and a plaid overshirt. As I'm tiptoeing out of the door, I remember I'm not wearing panties. A normal woman might decide to go commando (or "free lippin'" as I've heard it called, which just makes me cringe on multiple levels), but that's not possible. There are simply too many circumstances where I've found myself having to strip to my underclothes in my line of work.

Quickly, I tiptoe back to my dresser, withdrawing a pair of granny panties and exchanging my sexy bra for a more reasonable sports bra. The man might be back for more tonight, but first I've gotta get through the day, and that means sensible clothing. The dogs raise their heads when I approach, but only Boomer jumps up, his paws quickly planting themselves square on my tits.

"Boomer. Down," I command in a half-whisper, and the dog complies. "I promise I'll give you all the love in a minute. Just let me get dressed." Making my way to the downstairs bathroom, I use the water closet, noting on my phone that it's not yet time to remove my cervical cap. Another couple of hours to make sure the sperm have zero chance of getting to their desired permanent home.

When I'm fully dressed, I realise I've not carried socks down with me. Dammit. Longingly, I glance up at my bedroom from the bottom of the stairs. Nope. Can't risk it. If he wakes up while I'm upstairs, I'll be forced to have my wicked way with him.

What? I don't make the rules.

"Psst," I whisper to the dogs, "Come on." With those words and a gesture, I find the dogs following directions – and me. I lead them outside and wait while they sniff around and do their business. Disposing of their messes, I softly whistle for them to come into the clinic. Once on the other side of the office door, where I'm less afraid of waking Harry, I kneel down and pet each of them.

"Hi. How are you, my sweet Piper? Did it hurt your arthritis to sleep on the sofa? Let me see." I massage her legs and hips for her, and she licks at my face, a sure sign that she's grateful for my hands on her muscles and joints.

Next, I turn to Shortbread. "Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well last night? Chase some squirrels in your dreams?" Her tail wags continuously, letting me know she's happy – whether that's related to the squirrels in her dreams or the fact that she's getting petted, I couldn't say. And she's not sharing.

Finally, I turn to Boomer. "Getting more time here than at your own home, aren't you? Do you like it here?" I make sure to scratch behind his ears, and when his right leg gets moving, I am aware that he's a member of the ranks of pets who love getting scratches. Standing, I dust my hands on my jeans and whistle softly. "Let's get you breakfast."

All three follow me to the cabinet where I keep the food, their tails indicating their excitement. Picking up the bag, I pour food into the timed dispensers for Shortbread and Piper before pouring a healthy portion into a third bowl for Boomer. My dogs sit on their haunches, whining and staring at me with their pleading eyes until I give in and add a handful to each of their bowls. They'll get a full portion when the timer goes off later, so this is an extra treat that they don't often get, and they're not even remotely shy about accepting the gift.

Laughing, I replace the bag in the cupboard, making sure the door is tightly closed so they can't get to it. Not that mine would attempt it, but I could see some other dog (Cough! Cough! Boomer!) encouraging them to break the rules. And they're weak-willed ladies.

Like me.

My body still zings in all of the places he'd touched me last night, and I dance to my desk. I hadn't been lying about the soreness, but using certain muscles after a time of disuse always makes you notice them more. Not that I'm complaining. Nope. Not one bit. I was just thinking it would be really nice to give those muscles a good workout over the next – oh, say month or so.