by Lena Austin
Gratified, I leaned back against my pillows and took a quick sip of water. “You’re welcome, whoever you are. However, if you’re another ambulance chaser, you can follow his ass to hell. “
A scent tickled my sensitive nose, and I inhaled a little deeper, trying not to be obvious. What the hell did I smell? Whatever it was, my body reacted faster than my head. I was instantly hornier than a three-peckered billy goat scenting a whole herd of she-goats. Want didn’t quite cover my body’s reaction to the new visitor. I needed to put my butt in the air and yowl like I was in heat. Yeah, like instant heat. As I was in my human form, I’d probably need a soaker pad under my horny ass very soon.
Mr. Sexy Scent shook his head, but detached himself from the wall and sauntered into the room like he owned the hospital. He was grace and power personified, all presented in one sleek, elegant package. Light brown hair streaked with sunlight and the permanent tan only blessed upon folks born and raised in the sunshine declared him a native. His eyes were hazel, both brown and green simultaneously. He didn’t smile, but I got an impression of easy good humor about him. “Nope, but I probably shouldn’t be here either. I’ll have to ask permission once I’ve introduced myself, if you don’t toss me out like that snake who just left.” His southern drawl was smoother than the frozen custard they served at the zoo, all creamy and delicious.
I bet myself females tried to trip him and beat him to the floor with their legs spread every day of the week. Hell, if I weren’t laid up, I’d be begging to stand in line for the privilege. Consequently, my lust pissed me off. He was probably used to every female between puberty and menopause having hard nips and wet butts within five miles of him, and I’d be damned if I’d be another notch on a tattered belt. “Yeah, maybe you’d better tell me who you are.” Since when had my voice become that breathless and soft? Oh, shit.
The sleepy jaguars at the zoo had that same look in their eyes, like they were sizing you up as either prey or to determine if you measured up to some high standard only they understood. He stood close to the foot of my bed, neither crowding nor threatening me. “My name’s Officer Apollo Jones, and I’m one of the police you just defended, Miss Oakes.”
My mind fogged and my jaw slowly fell open. I prodded myself mentally to make some intelligent comment, but inside my head I was on my knees sucking his cock until he begged for mercy. All I managed was a strangled, “Oh.” I bit my lip before I said anything stupid like comparing him to the sun god of the same name. He’d probably had that twisted on him since grade school.
Whatever lust god had hold of me, the same asshole had the cop’s dick too. He’d been looking into my eyes like he’d seen something profound in them. Shit, they were just a big round pair of baby blues stuck above a nose so short someone had asked me if my dad had flattened my face with a wall. Like I knew who my dad was. I was a show-quality Himalayan, all looks and no personality required. Somehow, all that fancy-schmancy breeding crap made my human face desirable. Most men just drooled and grabbed until my steel toes connected with their nuts to remind them I had a brain and a heart.
Funny thing was, this time the lust was mutual. The kielbasa in his pants was growing faster than kudzu in the palmetto scrub. He blinked and visibly controlled himself. “Sorry. I guess you’re used to men telling you how beautiful you are.”
Not the way he thought. I cleared my throat and quickly took another swallow of water. I gave a tiny shake of my head. “Not really. Most see my hard hat and steel toes and make all the stereotypical assumptions. They also feel it’s their God-given duty to put me back on the straight and narrow and that I’d automatically welcome the lessons. Blech.”
“Here.” He set my favorite white chocolate mocha coffee from the Holy Grounds coffee shop downstairs on the table in front of me. Figures that Baptist Hospital would name their coffee shop that. “Hope you don’t mind real cream.” He waved to the chair Rat had used earlier. “May I?”
I pounced on the coffee and sniffed the heavenly odor that didn’t mask the delicious aroma of pure male. Coffee and Apollo Whatever-his-last-name-was was now my favorite perfume. I think both of us knew he shouldn’t be in the hospital room with me, but we were conspirators against the media and assholes like Rusty Rose and his ilk. Besides, he brought me coffee. With real cream. “Dude, I always try to be nice to the boys in blue. Have a seat.” I saluted him with my cup.
Those forest-green eyes crinkled up into a slow, cool smile, and he lifted his own cup to return the toast. “Thank you, Miss Oakes.” Then he sat down with more grace than even Tigs managed on his slinky best day. Whoa.
“Pete.” Okay, so maybe not the most intelligent thing to say, but lust was stroking my fur in all the right directions, and I was a pussy who was thinking with her pussy. Gimme a fucking break, okay?
“Huh?” The frown winked into view and was gone. “Oh, that’s right. The little girl Angelina called you Aunt Petey.” He grinned. “Cute kid. Smart too.”
Nothing gets me more than complimenting a kid in an indulgent tone, like he’d be the cop standing in the middle of an intersection directing traffic so little kids could get to school safely. Not that those things happened in his neck of the woods. That cultured tone in his voice and perfect enunciation said the dude was educated and way out of my league. “She’s a straight-A student as of her quarterly FCAT exams.”
He had the sexiest quiet laugh I’d ever heard, like a rumbling purr. “I’m not surprised in the least. She’s already declared to the media that she’s going to be a policeman just like me when she grows up.”
“I missed that report.” I frowned, annoyed. “Which media outlet paid for that exclusive?”
Apollo put his hand over his heart and pretended to be affronted. His voice dripped Southern drawl and mint julep. “Why Miss Oakes! Our local media stations are the souls of honesty and fact-driven journalism. Whatever gave you such an idea?” He sipped his coffee. “Okay, okay. Deanna Durbin grabbed that goodie while Angelina was at a sitter service and her mother was with Mikey. By the way, Mikey asked for you yesterday.”
Okay, that was it. I melted. I could read between the lines. Mr. Sexy Sun God had gone to see Mikey too. Now I could really like this guy. “Okay, Apollo. ’Fess up time. Since someone has seen fit not to give me all the details, just how much of a media circus has this crap become?”
He grinned into his coffee. “You might want to put on a pink spangled trapeze artist suit, if that’s any clue.”
“Oh, barf.” Then I got all the horrible, horrible details. Kitty dignity was going to get ruined.
Chapter Five
“Okay, here’s the plan.” I leaned in over Pete’s wheelchair. I tried to ignore the scent of sweet kitty below me and concentrate on my duty. I scrubbed that line of thought and replaced it with the memory of the most recent meth lab bust. No one should live in that kind of filth.
Pete’s friend Dustin and Dustin’s spouse Tigs also put their heads into the huddle, but Tigs kept a wary eye on the vid screen showing the media waiting outside. “Man, I’m so glad Petey suggested calling you in for guard duty and the sheriff was willing to assign you. That much attention makes even Ol’ Tigs nervous.”
“Shaddup, Tigs. You’re not the one whose gotta wear all this goo and talk to the sharks.” Pete had spent the morning with all the expertise of a full mobile spa at her hospital bed, getting primped and petted to perfection. Once she’d made her statement, hopefully we could put the final nail in the coffin of the whole fiasco.
However, that wasn’t why I was included. Dustin could have handled the media with one hand tied behind his back. No, I was there for two reasons. The first was to show by my uniform that Miss Oakes felt no animosity toward the police and vice-versa. The second was that I knew evasive driving. I was her getaway car.
As soon as Pete finished talking to the media, we all would duck into the meeting room down the hall for a quick identity switch.
Dustin was going to wheel a decoy -- Tig
s, dressed in a wig, Pete’s blue T-shirt and jeans -- into his Mercedes and drive off. Hopefully, the media would follow them.
Meanwhile, Pete would wear Tigs’ clothes, a blonde wig, and use crutches to escape with me to my truck. If we were lucky, Dustin would call us when the coast was clear. That was the plan, anyway. Plans were always subject to change without notice.
“Then let’s do this.” I wheeled her in.
I’d say she handled the reporters like a seasoned public relations specialist. She knew all their names, batted her big blue eyes, and had them eating out of her hand in no time. In a strong, clear voice and without using her usual pithy vocabulary, she gave them her version of what happened and how she blamed it all on Woody Parker, the robbery suspect and cop killer.
Mr. Parker, being deceased, didn’t argue.
Then, she won the hearts of every cop that ever existed. “Let’s not forget these heroes who go out every day and risk their lives. Two heroes died that day.” She wiped a tear away. “Another almost died. All because some louse wanted a freebie, not what he earned. Well, he earned a few bullets. The cops deserve our respect and support. Everybody needs heroes like them.” She turned to me and gave me a heart-melting smile. “Thank you, Officer Jones. I’m alive because of you and your brothers in blue. Keep holding the line, please.”
We shook hands like we barely knew each other, which was true. The fact that I couldn’t keep my mind on business when I got within six feet of her was my problem. “Our pleasure, Miss Oakes.”
The picture of us shaking hands made it to the news-web before I even got home. We looked like something Norman Rockwell might paint, and that was a perfect end to the circus. We whisked her out of there and got Tigs all decked out in a few moments. Our decoys made it to the car and were gone, trailing all the news vans behind.
Pete made it just fine on her crutches most of the way before her strength gave out. In the parking lot, three rows from where I’d parked my truck, her head bent. “Did you have to park in Bumfuck, Egypt? My pits are rubbed raw already!”
I turned around in time to see the Channel Twelve News’ most junior reporter drive into the parking lot, probably to chase me down. We had seconds to get in the truck before she spotted me. I sent the signal to unlock the truck and snatched Pete up into my best Clark Gable carry. “News!”
“Fuck me running!” She buried her face in my shoulder. The wig stank of whatever chemicals made it, hiding her scent from me. Otherwise, I might have forgotten my duty and taken her up on her offer. “Let’s make like a hockey player and get the puck outta here.”
I was already sprinting for the truck, so I saved my breath. One of her crutches kept banging me in the back of my knees, throwing me off stride, but we made it. I threw her in the passenger seat and managed to drive off just before she got the harness adjusted. We left the reporter driving around the lot, clueless while we hopped on the highway and sped off, laughing.
My dash cell rang, so I answered it from the steering wheel. “Jones here.”
“Hey, mah man!” Tigs’ annoyance came through loud and clear. “We did our job too well. Fucking newsies are camped out on the lawn. Dustin says to stash our kitten until they give up.” He signed off with a chirp from the closed connection.
“That could take days!” Pete hissed like she was already in fur. “I hate hotels. The room service food is lousy.”
I couldn’t resist temptation that much. I’m just not that strong. “How about a place where the food is guaranteed superlative, the featherbeds soft, and you’ll be treated like you’re the only guest?”
Pete wasn’t slow to catch on. Her grin was… well, hungry. For once, I felt like the prey. Those painted red lips spread wide to show off perfect white teeth with just a touch of fang. Oo-la-la! I could easily visualize those red lips surrounding my cock until we both purred. “Sounds like the best place on this fucked-up planet for me to be.”
I returned her conspirator’s grin and gave her a little growl to let her know who was the big cat in charge. “Well, then. Let’s see about making sure the service is extra special.” I wasn’t talking about marinated steaks on the grill, either, though some blue-eyed dessert might just be on the menu. “What’s your drink preference?”
She licked her lips with the tip of her pink tongue. “Black Cat.”
Oh, a test! I almost laughed aloud. “Vodka or tequila?”
“Vodka, of course.” Her eyes held a measure of respect. Not many people knew there were two kinds of Black Cat. I happened to prefer the vodka version myself. She pushed the wig off her head, revealing the short, spiky hair beneath. Two tiny, diamond studs glittered in each ear. For all that she had the vocabulary of a freighter, she definitely had some air of “expensive and exclusive” about her. She drove me nuts with curiosity.
We stopped at a light and waited while the traffic swirled around us. It was getting to be afternoon. Those few suburbanites who’d been forced to come into the urban area on business were fleeing to safety before dusk brought out the nastier denizens. All the vehicles had tinted windows with mirror finishes, so everyone had a small measure of privacy. Every criminal who broke into one of those took a risk that someone behind the mirrors had a bigger, meaner weapon. Still, it wasn’t smart to linger in the city canyons after dark unless… you were someone like me.
For her part, Pete seemed just as confident as I was in her ability to handle what came her way. After all, Woody Parker’s back had looked like raw meat. This kitten was a tiger, and I thrilled at the idea of making love with another predator. She leaned back in her seat and didn’t seem to mind when she caught me looking at the outline of her nipples pressing against the green T-shirt she wore. She glanced down at the hardening tips and shrugged. “I like dangerous men. You won’t be gentle, but you will be thorough, won’t you?”
“Let’s just say the attraction is mutual.” I ignored the swelling lump in my uniform.
Pete didn’t. Her blue gaze almost burned a hole in the khaki. “I see that. Why don’t we stop beating around the bush and get to your place in a hurry?”
I couldn’t believe my ears or eyes. That had to be the fastest sexual preamble I’d ever experienced. Was she teasing? I didn’t have time to contemplate the problem. I hit the button on my private garage door and swung into what had been a small garage and repair shop at one time. Now I held the only remote. The reinforced doors slammed shut behind us, locking the world out.
Pete took my hand when I opened the truck door for her and made no pretense of needing the crutches. “My arms are too sore for my crutches, and I think I’m in a bit of a hurry. Are you?”
There was no need for further coyness. I picked her up, carried her down the short hall that led to the secure freight elevator, and kicked open the gate with my foot.
Pete stuck out her uninjured foot where her toes peeked from her sandals. One delicate, shell-pink toenail pointed toward the elevator panel. “Which floor?”
“Three.” I wasn’t going to admit I owned the whole damn building at that moment. We were going straight up to the top floor, where I kept my main living space. I hoped she approved of the windows. The elevator doors opened.
She didn’t disappoint me in the slightest. Her big blue eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Hooollleee shit.”
Part of my building had been taken out by flying hurricane debris before I’d bought the place. So I’d arranged for the replacement walls to be the best thermal glass and steel available. A few weeks after construction was done, the building across the street between my place and the river went down like a pack of cards. Some idiots decided their meth lab needed to create the world’s largest candle. Consequently, I had a view of the river only eclipsed by the Modis building to the left. The judicious addition of a patio garden, and I had to admit it was spectacular.
Apparently, Pete thought so too. Her voice was soft and awed. “We can have our cocktails out there afterwards, right?”
“Sure.” I
could envision her out there, lounging on the knee wall, unconcerned about the several stories drop to the streets below. What cat would even give it a thought? Other females I’d brought up had freaked out.
“Good! You still want me, don’t you?” She purred seductively up at me. “Then since you make me hot enough to combust, it’s only right you fuck me.”
I leaned down and kissed her.
She responded by sliding her moist, red lips across mine and flicked her rough little tongue across my mouth.
I shivered in anticipation and desire and stumbled toward the bedroom, but we never made it past the blue lake of a rug I used to define my living room. We tumbled toward the sensuous Victorian fainting couch I’d liberated from an abandoned building. I’d reupholstered the damn thing, and apparently my work was appreciated.
Pete landed precisely where I wanted her to and stretched luxuriously. “Don’t turn your back on me, or this thing just might end up on my truck somehow.” She winked to let me know she was half-teasing and crooked her finger. “Come here Mr. ’Pollo Policeman… this little girl has some candy for a dandy cop…”
I grinned down at her. “I never could resist sweets.” I knelt next to her. “I like to take my time with them until they melt in my mouth.”
Chapter Six
Oh, my fucking God, what a fan-fucking-tastic bang I got! Did last night really happen? If how sore my butt is any indication, yeah, I got royally and completely fucked. If I have my way, I’m going back for more! I’ll skip all the teasing and early smooches and get right to the good stuff.
First, Apollo’s tongue needs to be bronzed and put in a museum to the gods of great sex! I’m getting the shivers and hard nips just on memory alone. Each touch of his hands, lips, and tongue increased in urgency until I purred in anticipation.