Sam's sigh was aggravated, but contrition lingered on his strong face. “Look, I said I was sorry."
Renaldo's head bobbed up and down. “Uh-huh. You sure did. Good on you, bully. Now you go about being a dumb ass. You wear it soooo well. Me? I'm going to my party. I totally don't want to miss the artichoke dip this year. Jay makes the most fabulous artichoke dip.” He brushed a hand over Frankie's head and blew her a kiss, exiting his apartment door.
Sam sat down on his haunches on the floor in front of her. “So like I said, I'm sorry. I overreacted."
No. I'd hardly call accusing me of being a gold digger overreacting. It was a simple deduction.
"I have a lot of money."
Dude, no way? Me too.
"Women usually want to date me because of it."
Was that what we did? Date? How come I ended up doing all the cooking? When one dates doesn't that usually involve some wining and dining? I think I've been shafted.
"It tends to make a guy cautious."
Or paranoid delusional.
"And being a criminal defense attorney, I always look for the worst possible motive, and not just in the criminals I defend."
Shut. Up. Really? I so had the wool pulled over my eyes. Her spine began to tingle, so she rolled onto her back to stretch, lazily reaching upward to the ceiling with her front paws. Then she yawned—wide. Frankie rolled back over.
"I'm a shit."
Indeed. She'd nod her wee cat head in agreement if that were possible.
He took to stroking her back, smoothing the long hair of her coat with a hand that was gentle. Like the Sam before he'd called her some money grubbing tramp. “And now you're stuck again because I was a shithead."
Observant.
Sam kneaded the spot just above her tail with his knuckles. God, that was good ... “I turned the lights on the Christmas tree before I left."
Festive.
Sam rose and paced in front of the ottoman. “So I came here to tell you something."
Niiiice. What haven't we covered? Money hungry? Check. Loose? Check. Really, what's left? But he'd caught her attention. Frankie took her time sitting up on her haunches, reaching her paws in front of her and rolling her head, then settling her feet beneath her in bored repose.
He stopped pacing and looked her square in the eye, his perfect hair glistening from the snow and his eyes sincere. “I can't stop thinking about you, Frankie. Not since you arrived and not since you left. You're the first woman I've wanted to get to know better in a very long time."
Like she'd stopped thinking about him? Not that she wouldn't have her tongue cut out before admitting it, though.
His hard face softened in the light of Renaldo's over-the-top Christmas light extravaganza. Running a hand through his hair, Sam shook his head, his grin wry. Words were his thing. He used them to slice people to ribbons all the time, but it was obvious to Frankie, in a personal setting, he sucked big, fat man hooters at expressing himself. “I think I miss you. I think I miss having you to come home to. In fact, I know I do. Look, I came here to apologize and see if you'd give me another chance. Maybe we could start over and do this the right way. Spend more time together."
Which might be awkward in social settings, seeing as I'm a cat and you're a human. Somehow, that would paint a very bizarre picture at say, a lawyer's convention, no? Me on a leash...
"But now you're stuck again and that's because of me."
Um, yeah. Fucktard.
Kneeling in front of her again, Sam scooped her up in his arms and scratched her ears. “Can I just say this is weird? I know you're in there, but I'm apologizing to a cat."
And driving me insane with those hands. Frankie couldn't help it, she arched into his palm, an unbidden purr erupting from her mouth. Gawd, he was so hawt. Which didn't contradict the fact that he was still a shit—a hawt one, but still a shit. The tingle she'd experienced in her spine earlier returned full force, tugging at her insides.
Sam searched her green eyes, intently, insistently. “Does this mean I'm forgiven?"
Her fur rippled. Well, it meant something. When he stroked her chin, it was all over but the cryin'. Just like that, in a tangle of shedding fur and crunching limbs, she was transformed to her human form once again.
Naked, but transformed.
Sam closed his eyes and gulped. Her eyes followed the up and down motion of his Adam's apple. “I don't know if I'll ever get used to that."
Frankie cocked an eyebrow at him, leaning away from the grip he'd taken on her hip. “Who said you'll have the opportunity?"
"Know what I say?"
She shook her head, fighting a chuckle, trying to ignore how good it felt to be in his arms again. “No, what do you say?"
"I say you need me. You haven't shifted in two days, yet I'm here twenty minutes and look. You're all human."
Frankie rolled her eyes at him. “Very knight in shining armor of you to point that out."
Sam cupped her chin, stroking her jaw with his thumb, making her body curl into his without will. “Seriously, Frankie. I was an asshole. I'm sorry."
"You really were."
He nodded his head in a somber motion, but his eyes glittered. “I really was. How can I make it up to you?"
She draped her arms around his neck and smiled. “I believe you mentioned doing this right. Doing this right could entail pecan-encrusted salmon during a fine dining experience. Dating me all right and proper. Movies, maybe the occasional concert. I'm a Barry Manilow fan, FYI. It means leaving the office at a reasonable hour to do it too. It means delegating so you can. Because if nothing else, I enjoy life, Sam. Especially seeing as the possibility of it being reduced to a cat litter box is so real. Now, if you're up to that, I might consider it."
He chuckled in her ear, sending a skitter of electricity along her spine. “Done. Anything else?"
Her nipples brushed against the fine silk of his suit. “No, I think we've covered the basics for now, Scrooge."
"About that..."
"About what?"
"The Scrooge thing."
Her smile was warm and she was curious, but she didn't want to pressure him to talk about something that had so obviously pissed him off. She had a feeling they had plenty of time. “Wow, you're all about the sharing tonight, huh?"
"My family is gone. My parents, that is. I think I have some distant relatives somewhere in Europe, but that's it. I never had a reason to celebrate Christmas after they died. But I like Christmas. Really. I was just picking a fight to pick a fight. You were turning me into someone I didn't understand and I reacted."
"Ohhhh, no. That was all you. I can't make you do anything. You were turning into someone you don't understand because you way like me. And I guess, for someone like you, who's always buried in some legal case, that can be a sort of overwhelming experience. I'll let it slide this time due to uncharted territory."
Sam's eyes held hers. “I can't help who I am and who I am is a man who defends pricks sometimes. I think that bled over into my personal life and I sorta got crazy."
"Ya think?"
He nuzzled her neck, trailing his fingers between her breasts with seductive passes. “I think. So you wanna kiss and make up or something?"
"Or something,” she muttered as his lips found hers, his tongue plunging into her mouth with delicious silky-smooth strokes.
"I thought we were getting to know each other better,” he muttered, pulling off his jacket and fumbling with the tie around his neck.
Frankie curved a leg around his waist, molding herself to the delicious, rigid line between his legs. “I thought so too, but my hormones say differently."
The grumble from his chest, now bare, made her tingle from head to toe. “The hormone thing. That must be what made you shift back. My hormones specifically, huh?"
"Don't get over-confident, mister.” Her smile was sly.
Sliding out of his trousers and kicking off his shoes, Sam hauled the lower half of her body to his, lett
ing his cock caress her folds. “I'm just sayin'...” he offered before he hiked her legs up around his waist and walked her back to the ottoman. Setting her on it, he slid down her body, planting kisses on her overheated flesh as he went. He cupped her breasts together, taking turns at laving each nipple to a fine, rigid point.
Frankie leaned back on her elbows, spreading her legs wide to allow him access to her cunt. Sam obliged, dragging his fingers through the wet, slick surface, stroking her clit to an aching nub, reaching for her mouth again and plunging his tongue into it to stroke the dark recesses.
Her hands reached between them, grasping his thick cock between her fingers and stroking the silken, hot flesh. Sam groaned into her mouth and she absorbed his pleasure by lifting her hips, sliding low on the ottoman and inviting him to take her.
Sam pushed her hands away, gripping his shaft and placing it at her entrance. The urgency of his gesture made Frankie squirm beneath him but he waited, driving her to the brink of insanity with anticipation.
He let the head of his cock dip into her, leaving her clenching desperately at his shoulders for more, whimpering with need. His chuckle against her mouth was seductively sinister, wickedly letting her know he was in charge.
And then without warning, his large hands forcefully grabbed her hips and he plunged into her, driving the heat of his shaft balls deep.
Frankie screamed, not even bothering to hide the relief he brought as he entered her with such force they both jolted. Her legs lifted higher around his hips, angling them so his cock touched the deepest part of her. Sam drove deeper and deeper, harder and harder until she could only helplessly hang in his arms as he took sweet, measured plunges, leaving her breathless.
The fire that swept along her spine, the gut clenching intensity of his strokes made her thrash her head, clench her jaw, beg for release from this agonizingly, delicious spiral of pleasure.
Their flesh slapped against each other's, carnal to her ears. And then she was overwhelmed by sensation. The delicious friction his pubic hair rubbing against her swollen clit caused, the stretch of her pussy as it took him deeper and deeper and the slippery slide of sweat on their skin sent her over the edge.
She screamed again as the electric wave of orgasm assaulted her. Her chest crashed against his, her head swam, colored lights flashed behind her eyelids and then, sweet relief. Sweet, blessed relief washed over her.
Sam's last stroke made her limp body buck helplessly against him as he came too.
Their heavy, rasping gasps for air filled the room. Sweat glistened under the Christmas lights on Sam's forehead. “Wow, those hormones,” he muttered with a chuckle thick like gravy.
"Yeaaahhhhhh,” she sighed, leaning into his broad chest and focusing on breathing properly as they slid to the floor.
When their lungs had filled with air again, she whispered, “I think we'd better get dressed before Renaldo comes home."
Sam's smile was lascivious when he wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I think we should go back to my house and do this again before Renaldo comes home."
Frankie mocked horror. “And you called me loose?"
"Didn't I apologize for that?"
Rolling over to straddle him, she giggled, planting her hands on his chest. “Yep, but a reminder about the error of your ways will keep you on your toes, don't you think?” she smiled with a saucy grin.
He returned her smile with an equally cocky one. “I think you'll always keep me on my toes."
"I think you'd be lucky if I did."
"I think you might be one cocky cat."
"I think you should thank your lucky stars you got me as a Christmas gift. Do you have any clue how sorry you'd be if I were Siamese? God, they're such snooty, tired bitches."
"I'll send out a thank you card to Glynice post haste. So how do we tell icky Harry you're seeing me now?"
Poor Harry. He hadn't taken the news well. “I already took care of that. Well, not the part about seeing you, but about how I wasn't going to be mating with him."
Sam's smile was filled with self-assurance. “Did you now? And what about your parents? How're they going to feel about a human dating their daughter? Is there some bylaw about that too?"
"Nope. But you'll be our first human ever. We don't travel very far out of our social circles for reasons I think I've shown you. You have a bunch of stuff to learn about me. You might regret asking to get to know me better."
Sam caressed her spine with long fingers. “I'm all in, but let me be sure I completely understand before I get in any deeper. You and me, we have to mate to keep you in human form."
Frankie walked her fingers along his chest and toyed with the hair between his pecs. “Yep. A lot. Bet you're sorry now, huh?"
His grin widened and his arms, strong, secure, encompassed her. “This is my sad face."
Her lips grazed his. “So you turned on the Christmas lights on your tree just for me, huh?"
Sam nodded. “Just for you."
"Wow, who's all in the Christmas spirit, eh, Scrooge?” she teased, planting a kiss on his luscious lips.
"The guy who got a cat for Christmas,” he answered.
"Beats getting a tie."
"And then some,” he joked.
"The uber lucky guy who got a cat for Christmas and don't you forget it."
His voice grew husky as he pulled her to a standing position, trickling a finger between her breasts. “That's me. So I say we go back to my place and I can practice unwrapping my Christmas gift—over and over."
Frankie giggled again, light and fluttering. “You know what I say to that?"
"What do you say to that?"
She winked. “I say, woo and hoo. Merry Christmas to me."
His laughter filled her ears, his kiss seductively inviting. “I think I'm going to like this getting to know you thing. Merry Christmas, Frankie."
Her sigh was one of contentment, her smile warm. “Merry Christmas, Sam."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Werelock
Dakota Cassidy
To keep her tired cooped up sister from annihilating her niece and nephew and to appease their taunts that “Auntie Addison needs to get a life,” Addison Ross agrees to go on a pumpkin picking expedition with them.
And, hoo boy does she ever pick a winner.
Beneath the pumpkin she chooses, a talisman is buried. A talisman that brings the delish Caleb Marsden to her door and into her life.
Caleb Marsden the werelock.
Half werewolf, half warlock, the scrumptious Caleb holds the key to keeping the talisman safe, but he also unlocks something in Addison. Something long tucked away, wanton and wicked. Something she doesn't want to risk losing.
He's come to protect Addison until All Hallows Eve when a demon will try to wrest the talisman from her and take over the world. If the demon, Volac, gets his hands on the talisman, not only will the world know devastating destruction, but Caleb's life may come to a devastating end...
[Back to Table of Contents]
Prologue
Dear Nathan,
So I went pumpkin picking with my sister and her kids like three weeks before Halloween. I said it was much too early in the month. But my sister, Tricia, said that if those two spawn of Beelzebub spent one more second driving her out of her mind, she was going to hang a noose on her tree in the backyard, stick her head in it, and jump from the highest branch.
I told her that I didn't think her husband, Griffon, looked at all like Beelzebub, but she kinda did.
I also thought that was sorta extreme and the visual was kinda ugly in my mind's eye, but well, Joel and Sophia are spirited. Spirited is the polite word that stressed out, glazed-eyed parents use when they're describing their little heathens. Heathens that constantly move and chatter. I say, bring on the valium and slip it in their Kool-Aid.
Hoorah for whatever helps you preserve your sanity.
Plus, to make matters worse, lately Sophie has been driving Tricia nuts about g
etting a dog. At the ripe old age of six, she's decided—after watching far too much Animal Planet in my opinion—to become a veterinarian and she'd told us all quite proudly she needed a puppy to practice on.
According to Tricia, if Sophie mentioned getting a dog one more Jesus effin’ time, she'd simply end it all.
Anyway, we've had a cold snap and the kids had been stuck inside for a week. So they were driving her insane. Clearly Tricia needed respite. And a reason to razz the shit out of me for doing nothing but work. They take me pumpkin picking and Christmas tree hunting every year, under protest, while they nag me about my social life.
Er, non-social life, that is.
They make me go because they think that Auntie Addison needs to get out more. I say bullshit. Well, I didn't say bullshit to the kids. Just so we're straight. They're only six and eight. I'd never do that. I said bullshit to Tricia about the theory of me getting out more.
I get out. I do. I go from my townhouse to my car to my office, and then do that all in reverse at like six o'clock at night. Okay, maybe more like nine if I'm honest. Sometimes I get all crazy and make a trip to the grocery store for milk that never fails to end up sour because I'm always working and forget it's in the fridge.
My sister (and her kids too—they've learned well from the master nagger) calls me driven and ambitious. Like the little shits even know what those words mean. I call my sister crazy for so purposely and intentionally having nose pickers with big mouths just like their mother's.
I mean, they're cute and all, and, yeah, I love ‘em but, Jesus, they have way too much to say. Just like their mother.
Big mouths aside, I went anyway just to shut them all up and keep the peace. I hadn't seen them in a month and I was long overdue for a visit. I figured I could be in and out of that pumpkin patch in an hour flat and back home with the glow of my computer warming my face in an hour and a half tops given mini-van travel time. Well, maybe not an hour. I'd forgotten to include time for the apple cider and donuts.
They're a must, according to nose picker number one, er, my nephew Joel, and when you're eight, it's an experience you don't wanna miss.
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