Page 13 of The Family Pet

“Ridge, take this pup. I want him kneeling beside my bed.”

Ridge sighed. “Do I have to?”

Uncle Bowie’s body went rigid under me, and I nearly stopped breathing. “Yes,” he murmured quietly.

Maybe there was something in Uncle Bowie’s tone that Ridge understood was dangerous, too, because he got to his feet—although, he didn’t bother to tuck his dick away—then strolled over to roughly grab the leash. He yanked and it hurt as he dragged me off Uncle Bowie’s lap. I wanted to call him an asshole and a thousand other things, but Uncle Bowie stared at me closely as I crawled after Ridge out of the room, so I bit my tongue and prayed for this to all be over soon.

5

RIDGE

I couldn’t stop glancing at Saint as I walked him up the wooden stairs. Like everything else Dad owned, Saint was a tantalizing sight. Even though he was battered and bruised and walked on his hands and knees awkwardly, he was lean and muscular and expensive. The pink jewels and silver studs embedded in the collar on his neck glittered in a way that told me it definitely wasn’t cheap. The chain clutched in my palm was heavy and sturdy, and it would take something powerful to break it, which meant Saint didn’t have a chance.

Curiosity got the best of me, even though I hated his guts. “Why are you doing this?” I asked as we reached the top of the staircase. I yanked on the chain, hard, and he yelped.

Saint sent me a heat-filled glare, and my cock stirred to life again. I hadn’t bothered to tuck it back into my pants because I had the feeling I would be using it again soon, and I was too fucking lazy to care that I was walking around with my junk hanging out.

“You know why.” His gaze glittered with anger and he grasped the chain, yanking it back toward himself.

I smirked. “Careful. You know what happens to disobedient pets in our family? We take them to the pound.”

It was a lie. I’d only had one dog in my life, and it was when I was a kid. But the cocker spaniel hadn’t been mine, and I swore Mom loved that pup more than me. That wasn’t to say Dad hadn’t been an animal person. He’d had a German shepherd when I’d lived with Mom, but it had died of old age, and I didn’t spend much time with it. My relationship with Dad had always been rocky, but it didn’t help when Mom tried to keep us apart. She’d thought she could use me to gain the Godfrey fortune, but when she’d realized how flawed the plan was, she’d shoved me back at Dad, hoping he could fix my attitude. If only she could see us now. . . .

Our family drama could feed ten seasons of a soap opera.

I snorted at the thought.

“Hello?” Saint’s eyebrows dipped and he waved his hand at me. “Earth to dickhead.”

I rolled my eyes and wrenched the chain again, harder than I had before. He choked at the sudden force and grabbed his neck, coughing. “Dogs don’t talk, either. Learn your place.”

“Ridge! I can hear you from here,” Dad yelled from where we’d left him in the living room. “What did I say? Take him to my bedroom. Now.”

I sighed quietly and jerked my head, gesturing for Saint to follow me. As much as I wanted to torture him more, I didn’t want to risk Dad’s wrath. I’d dealt with enough of his irritation over the last few months, and as controlled as he was, he also had a temper that I hated.

I led Saint down the wide hallway and past the bedroom I’d had since I was born. The design wasn’t anything fantastic in this part of the mansion. The Godfreys had always been about simplicity in the areas that led from one location to the next, and that came from my Grandma, who’d always claimed that you wanted guests to be wowed at the sight of the rooms, not the corridors. The hallway we walked down was a simple white with silver chandeliers. The ceiling rose high over us and had a fancy pattern carved into the plaster.

Dad’s room was the last door on the left, and he had the biggest one in the house. As soon as I opened the white door and Saint crawled through, he stopped and sat back on his knees with a gasp. I hadn’t been in here for years, so I couldn’t help but stare as well.

Dad had taken Grandma’s words to heart because his room had the biggest bed I’d ever seen in my life, with a shiny steel frame and rich navy blankets. He had one massive chandelier that hung over his bed, and it was nearly as wide, too, made from silver and glittering crystals. To the left was the walk-in closet, which led to a bathroom, and to the right was a white chaise that sat beside the large window. Deep blue curtains kept out the world.

Snapping free of my trance, I tugged Saint’s collar and led him to the bed, waving furiously at it. Dad had wanted Saint on the floor, but it would be a lot funnier watching him climb on all fours. “Get up and stay there until Dad tells you what to do.”

Saint’s eyes narrowed and he let out a small growl that sounded a lot like a dog as he lifted himself up onto the high bed. He needed to rise to his feet to accomplish the task, and I wasn’t quite sure what was allowed and what wasn’t. I’d never played this kind of game.

Saint’s rock-hard cock bounced as he fell onto the comforter on his ass, sighing. “This is fucked up. You know that, right?”

Yeah, I knew, but I didn’t give two shits, either. It was new and exciting, and the thought of what I’d done earlier—fuck my cousin—had blood racing south to my cock again. I shrugged in answer to him, considering his long, lean naked body. He had a similar build to me, with slim muscles that barely defined his abs. His pecs were better, though, and he tensed them under my scrutiny, making them appear bigger. His nipples peaked, and I smirked. He liked my attention, no matter how much he wanted to deny it.

I considered what to do next. I could sit beside him—touch him in ways that intrigued me—or keep standing, waiting for Dad to give me orders. My relationship with Dad was a funny thing. For those years I’d lived with Mom, I’d had little to do with him. He was nothing but a ghost of a presence in my life, and when she’d finally shoved me to live with him and learn some manners, he’d become nothing more than a drill sergeant. For so long I’d fought for dominance against him, and I’d failed every time. At twenty-four, I was still someone who needed to be lectured according to him. Most of our interactions had been push and pull. I’d always nudged him to see how far I could get before he shoved back.

With Saint, it was similar. We’d always been in competition, ever since I was born. We were the only grandsons of Grandma and Grandpa, and in a lot of ways, they’d pitted us against each other. Who would take over the Godfrey name? Being the firstborn, Saint had leverage, and our grandparents adored him. He called them Grammy and Grampy, while I’d never had the privilege. Like Dad to Saint’s father, I was second fiddle to Saint, who was the perfect child in their eyes. A literal saint.

I snorted. They had no idea how wrong they were. If they could see their little angel now, naked as the day he was born, with his hole stuffed full of my cum, they would’ve disinherited him in a split second. Grandma had been wildly religious.

I stepped close to the bed and spread my legs, then wrapped a hand around my cock and waved it at him. “While we’re waiting, you could put that mouth to use.”

His glare intensified. “Fuck off.”