Billionaire’s Pet: Pride Pet Play

Drew shook his head. His dark hair was going salt and pepper, but he still looked sexy—the epitome of a hot daddy. He owned the law firm I had on retainer, but he’d become more to me than simply my lawyer. He was, dare I say, a friend. Possibly my only friend, if you didn’t count those from my college days, which I did not. Drew would tell me the truth. He was a serious Dom, a successful businessman, and a brilliant lawyer. Drew would direct me accountably, responsibly. Whether I liked it or not. And at the moment, it was not. “You’ll live, now here.” He handed me a cluster of assorted beads. “Throw these.” He stepped away, then turned back. “Gently. Throw them gently.” Then he pointed to the crowds lined along the road that wound through Ybor City.

Of course, Tampa PRIDE ran through Ybor City. It was actually the perfect route, and the people along the way were out in full force in every sense of the phrase. The mainly pulchritudinous crowd proved to be rowdy, some wore selcouth attire, and it was the latter that piqued my interest. Older people in rainbow tie-dye, sexy men in short shorts—the shortest of short shorts—unusual hats everywhere, drag queens with rainbow hair, beads and flags and balloons and face paint turned the street into a festival. And there, up ahead. Men dressed like dogs. Black leather masks and tight outfits, or colored masks of many varieties and skimpy to nothing for clothes. There had to be nearly fifty of them, all lined up, three or four deep in the crowd. Some of them had collars and leashes.

My dick and my feet became suddenly traitorous. I walked toward them with my arm stretched out to hand over my loot. One stood out above the others, though he was short, but that may have been why he was shoved to the front. That or how he didn’t stop moving. Bouncing on the balls of his worn sneakers, fingering the multitude of beads around his neck, and his head was masked as a dark blue dog with bright blond hair poking out of the straps, he shifted left and right. Left and right. Then those eyes landed on me. One eye was a piercing green, the other half green and half brown. And totally stunning. I was almost immune to the rest of his outfit—a tiny black halter and bright orange, silky short shorts. His legs weren’t long. In fact, he couldn’t have been taller than five-five, but they were sexy as hell and curved in all the right proportions.

I stepped closer, holding out the beads. “You’re heterochromia.”

The blue, dog-masked man giggled. Giggled. “I’m not hetero-anything, dude. Seriously, gay as a three-dollar bill.” His voice purred out, symphonious—mellifluous.

I was totally enraptured. “I mean your eyes.”

He bounced, leaning left then right. “I know. I’m teasing. I was born with it.”