Legal Beagle by Cynthia Sax Page A

stronger. Mate! Mate! Mate ! Euphoria floods my body as I run. I spot big boots, my mate’s boots. I will chew on them later, marking him so all the other dogs know who he belongs to. Right now, I bark my possession. Mine ! I jump into the air.
    Big hands scoop me up. “Hey there, puppy.” He lifts me so we’re face to face, his warm human nose brushing against my cold snout.
    I recognize the blue eyes brimming with humor. Not mate. Officer Wright. Bad dog . My human is not pleased with me.
    I cower for one long heartbeat, but my enthusiasm can’t be dimmed. Friend! Friend! Friend ! I lick the officer’s handsome face all over, thrilled and excited and thrilled. He tastes of salty human mate.
    Mate !
    Not mate! Bad dog ! My human is no fun. I lick my mate some more to spite her.
    “You’re a cute little puppy.” Officer Wright chuckles, his thumbs rubbing my always itchy belly. His touch feels divine.
    I’m not a puppy . I bark, pawing his chest, my nails clinking against his metal badge. I’m a full-grown beagle shifter, and I’m not cute either. I’m a dangerous animal, just like bigger dogs are. I could rip his throat out.
    Instead I lick it, and he laughs, the sound low and deep and sexy, setting off a wave of intense happiness within me. I bark, telling him how ecstatic I am to see him, and I wag my tail so hard, my entire ass wiggles.
    “You’re too adorable not to belong to someone.” He drapes me over his shoulder, giving me a first class view of a tight ass clothed in snug police pants. I bark my appreciation, and I breathe deeply, inhaling his wonderful, fantastic scent. “You must have a master.”
    He’s my master, and I communicate that to him in short, abrupt yips, but he ignores me, opening the back door of his police cruiser.
    “You stay here.” He plunks me down on the seat. I tilt my head, staring up at him, not understanding why he wants me to stay there.
    He shuts the door on my face. Where is he going? I bark, jumping up on the door. Even if I had hands, instead of paws, I couldn’t open the door as there’s no door handle. I’m trapped. I bark.
    “Don’t wreck the car.” Officer Wright shakes his index finger at me, the glass separating us. I don’t like being separated from my mate, and I howl. “If you chew the seats, Drake will have my ass.”
    I watch the magnificent ass he referred to walk away. Bad mate , I bark at him. He doesn’t turn around. I will chew your seats , I warn him. He doesn’t slow down, an arrogant swagger in his gait.
    I am a beagle of my word. I nip at the seat, and it tastes good so I chew on it some more.
     

 
     
     
    02 Wright’s Blog
     
    Damn Drake and his pussy leave. I stomp through the parking level, disgusted that I, one of the city’s finest, am reduced to babysitting duty because my partner needs a week off to bang his bunny.
    Sure, the lady judge I’m protecting is a hot piece of ass, with her small, slim form, shapely legs, and the knowledge of a woman reflecting in her big, brown eyes, but it is still demeaning, waiting to escort her between the court house and her home, invisible and unappreciated. I’m a cop, damn it, genetically enhanced to protect and serve, not follow some chick around town as she does her grocery shopping.
    The memory of how Judge Sadie touched, squeezed, and sniffed her luscious red tomatoes makes my cock harden. God, I have to get laid and soon, preferably before I escort her to tomorrow night’s yoga class. Damn yoga pants designers.
    I traverse the maze of cars, looking for the owner of my newly acquired puppy. I see people, but no one searching for an animal, and I don’t volunteer the information because there are some real sick bastards in the world, and I don’t want any of them touching my dog.
    Fuck. She is not my dog. I might be a bit lonely, what with that asshole Drake pairing up, and my friend Sarge busy with his new partner, but my loneliness won’t be cured with a puppy.
    Though she is