Page 12 of Daddy's Naughty Dog Trainer

Maybe I should put a profile on one of the kinky dating sites like some of my friends have been doing. Because, finding a man from among my clients is not professional. Today, I’m going to be professional.

Professional.

I repeat it like a mantra as I wait by the park entrance, leash and training treats in hand. No more games. No more testing boundaries. No more inappropriate "Daddy" slips. Just good, clean, dog training.

"Jessica."

I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of Sean's voice behind me. I turn to find him standing there with Lucky, who's straining against his leash, tail wagging furiously at the sight of me. I’ve definitely fallen for this little furball.

"Mr. Ferguson," I say formally, immediately cringing at how stiff it sounds. "Good morning."

One dark eyebrow rises at the formal address. "Mr. Ferguson? That's new."

I clear my throat. "I thought we should... clarify the professional nature of our relationship."

Something flickers across his face. I can’t tell what it is… amusement? Disappointment? He nods. "Of course. Shall we begin?"

"Yes. I thought we'd start with basic leash manners." I gesture to the walking path that winds through the park. "Lucky needs to learn to walk beside you without pulling."

Sean nods, and we set off along the path. Lucky, predictably, lunges ahead, dragging Sean along like he's water skiing on land.

"The key is consistency," I explain, demonstrating how to hold the leash. "When he pulls, you stop walking. Only move forward when there's slack in the leash."

Sean follows my instructions with the same precision he's shown in our previous sessions. Stop when Lucky pulls, wait for him to come back, reward the good behavior with a small treat. It's slow going, but by the third lap around the small duck pond, Lucky is starting to get the idea.

"He's smart," I say, watching as Lucky trots happily beside Sean, glancing up at him every few steps for approval. "He wants to please you."

"He just needs to know the rules," Sean replies, and there's something in his tone that makes me glance up at him. He's looking at me, not Lucky, with an expression I can't quite decipher.

I look away quickly. "Most dogs do well with clear expectations."

"Most people too," he says mildly.

We’ve had this conversation before and it’s led to hot steamy showers, my hand squeezing my nipples in my bed and behavior unlike me. I feel heat rise to my cheeks but refuse to take the bait.

Professional, I remind myself.

Professional, professional, professional.

We continue our lap around the pond, and Lucky continues to improve. When Sean praises him, his voice holds genuine warmth and pride. It's the most relaxed I've seen him, out here in the sunshine with his dog. He’s kind of tightly wound otherwise.

"You're doing great with him," I say, meaning it. "I know this isn't what you signed up for, but you've really risen to the occasion."

Sean's expression softens. "Thank you. That... means a lot, actually. I’ve always liked dogs, and my family had them growing up but I never intended to get one. At least not now. I’m kind of a lone wolf. My ex-wife was a cat person, and well, I’m definitely not. My sister meant the world to me and I can’t imagine breaking a promise I made to her while she was dying. For better or worse, Lucky is stuck with me. Taking care of him makes me feel closer to her."

For a moment, we're just looking at each other, and there's none of the tension or game-playing from before. Just two people who care about a dog.

The moment stretches, warm and unexpectedly sweet, until Lucky spots a squirrel and lunges, nearly yanking Sean off his feet.

"Whoa, easy there," I laugh, helping Sean regain his balance. "Let's practice the 'look at me' command to help with distractions."

We spend another half hour working on getting Lucky to maintain focus despite the many temptations of the park. And there are many. Squirrels, other dogs, picnicking families with all sorts of food, teenagers playing ball. He's making progress, but it's clear this will take more practice.

"I think that's enough for today," I say finally. "He's starting to get tired, and training is most effective in short sessions anyway."

Sean nods, giving Lucky a pat of approval. "Same time at my place?"

"Actually, I was thinking we might try somewhere different. Maybe the pet store? It's a more challenging environment with lots of distractions, and they have a training area we could use."

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