Untamable

by Jamie Schlosser

  So fucking sexy.

  As my dick pressed uncomfortably against my zipper, I had trouble remembering why I’d sworn off women in the first place.

  It wasn’t just any woman, though. It was her.

  Estelle was a temptation and she didn’t even know it. I never messed around with clients or coworkers. Ever. I prided myself on adhering to that cardinal rule.

  But I felt unleashed. Like something inside of me had snapped—something I didn’t even know was restrained in the first place.

  Desire.

  I couldn’t want her.

  I shouldn’t want her.

  But adrenaline from the near-death experience in the pink Jeep still pumped through my veins. That, combined with the knowledge that Estelle was nearby, made me feel an uncontrollable hunger.

  We were literally separated by this RV, one hundred feet of space, and a wall.

  My mind went back to earlier when I’d overheard Estelle talking to Janice. I shouldn’t have listened in on their conversation. Not only was it a violation of Estelle’s privacy, but it didn’t do me any favors.

  Hearing her say she’d been ‘DIY-ing it’ gave me all sorts of mental images. Thinking about her touching herself, what noises she made, what her face looked like when she came.

  Although, in all honesty, I’d been listening in on their conversation long before any masturbatory talk. Long enough to hear Estelle talk about her ex and how he made her feel like she couldn’t be herself. I wholeheartedly agreed with Janice’s sentiment: What a douche.

  There was nothing wrong with Estelle. Yeah, she was kind of a mess—a wild, perfect mess.

  Groaning, I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled the zipper down, giving much-needed relief to my erection.

  I gave my dick a tug as I thought about her red lips. The black dress. What kind of panties did she have on? I took her for a thong type of girl.

  Unable to stop it, the fantasy took control of my thoughts, and suddenly, I had her cornered in the Target dressing room.

  I imagined bending her over, flipping the dress up, and pulling her panties down. Running my fingers through her slickness before lining my tip up at her entrance. Thrusting hard, plunging into her heat.

  My hand moved up and down my shaft, squeezing the head with every pass.

  Estelle moaned, and I covered her mouth with my palm to keep her quiet. Didn’t want to get caught.

  My fist pumped faster.

  Removing my hand from her face, I rubbed circles over her clit as I pounded into her. Palmed her tits. Spread her ass cheeks. I wanted to touch every inch of her body.

  She whimpered again. Bad girl. Bringing my palm back to her mouth, I smothered her increasingly loud cries. And although I couldn’t understand what she was saying, it sounded like she was chanting my name.

  My balls drew up tight.

  Body shaking, she exploded around my cock, her snug walls clamping down as she let out a muffled scream behind my hand.

  Then I came. Hard.

  I let out a hoarse shout as I coated the front of my T-shirt with the strongest orgasm I’d ever had.

  My eyes slammed shut. My head tilted back. My fingernails dug into the leather of the bench seat.

  Ripples of pleasure raced through my body with every jet of cum shooting from my cock.

  When it was finally over, I sat there trying to catch my breath for a few minutes with my softening dick resting on my stomach.

  “What the fuck was that?” I whispered to myself, still astonished at the intensity of the moment. I’d never come that hard, especially not from jacking off.

  Physically drained, my head lolled to the side and I peeked through the crack in the curtain. I had a good view of Estelle’s balcony and her living room light was on. Suddenly, the sliding glass door opened and Estelle came outside with Mike.

  I jerked away from the window.

  Even though she hadn’t seen me, I felt a little guilty. Technically, I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I was reminded that I was here for one reason—find homes for seven cats so Estelle didn’t get evicted.

  I didn’t have time to date, and fucking a client was unethical. Not to mention if the tabloids caught wind of an onset romance, they’d have a field day with it, and I couldn’t let her get dragged into that.

  I can’t have her.

  But even as my mind tried to rationalize why getting involved with Estelle was wrong, I knew that if she wanted me, I was fucked.

  Good thing she didn’t think of me that way.

  I’d be ‘DIY-ing’ it a lot over the next couple weeks.

  After getting cleaned up, I went back to my notes and started thumbing through the cats’ medical records. Now that I was sexually sated, I could focus on the task at hand.

  It was only the first day and I was already making good headway. We might even be able to wrap up filming early and I could spend a few days at the beach before going back to Chicago.

  Confidence filled me, and I gave myself a mental pat on the back.

  I was so fucking good at this job.

  CHAPTER 5

  EMERY

  Sometimes I was really fucking bad at this job.

  The morning had been a disaster, and it wasn’t even 9 a.m. yet. Mike had gotten out when I held the front door open for too long, so Estelle and Janice were searching the halls for him now. Joel had technical difficulties with his camera, which was going to delay filming for at least two hours. And Steve was being a jackass, per usual.

  “Son of a bitch,” he whined, glaring down at his phone.

  “What?” I asked, concerned.

  “I took a quiz. ‘Where will I be in five years based on my pizza topping preference?’” He violently tapped the screen. “Shearing llamas in Peru? The creators of these tests are way off. How can they sleep at night?” he asked incredulously.

  “Steve, on top of everything else that’s happened today, I don’t have time for your drama llama.” I snickered at my own joke. He wasn’t amused.

  On the plus side, the urine sample we’d collected from Cindy came back fine, so she was in the clear to be adopted. Also, we were one step closer to finding the pissing culprit.

  A knock sounded at Estelle’s door and I opened it to find Nikki and Lizzie.

  “Sorry we’re late,” she said, grappling with her oversized mom-bag. She leaned in for a hug. “Like, ten things went wrong before we even got out the door.”

  “No worries,” I assured her. “Same here. We’re behind schedule, but that means you’ll have time to meet the cats without so many people around.” Looking down at my niece, I ruffled her strawberry-blond curls. “How’s it going, squirt?”

  “Good.” She giggled down at her feet with her usual shyness, hiding behind her hair. “Where are the kitties?”

  I’d already administered the sedative to Peter, leaving him calm and pleasant. Evan had given me a special mixture of liquid catnip drops that he’d concocted, and they were like magic. It’d been way easier than I thought—all I had to do was mix it with a little tuna and Peter ate it right up.

  “Down that hallway, first door on the right,” I told her. “That’s where a lot of them like to hang out.”

  “I found Mike,” Estelle announced, coming through the door with the gray bundle in her arms. “He was trying to eat the plastic leaves on that fake plant down the hall, so we might need to watch him for diarrhea—” Stopping short, she smiled at Nikki. “Oh, hi.”

  I did a brief introduction. Not that I needed to, because within fifteen seconds, Estelle and Nikki were chatting about lipstick like old friends.

  I backed away, because I had absolutely nothing to add to that conversation. Instead, I headed for the cat room to check on Lizzie.

  I was just about to the door when I heard her little voice call out, “I think this one’s dead, Uncle E.”

  What? Shit.

  Quickening my pace, I made it to her side and my eyes followed her pointing finger. Peter was lying on the top lev
el of the kitty castle on his back, upside down, with his head and front paws hanging all the way off.

  “Peter?” I scratched the underside of his chin. “You okay, buddy?”

  He laughed—I kid you not—he actually laughed like a person. That was some creepy shit. I picked him up and cradled his limp body. Resting my head on his chest, I heard his steady heartbeat and felt the rise and fall of his breathing.

  Then I sent a text to Evan.

  Me: What the hell is in that catnip?

  Evan: It’s just concentrated catnip that’s been genetically modified.

  Me: What does that mean exactly?

  Evan: Why? What happened? How many drops did you give him?

  Me: Only two. Peter is tripping the fuck out. He’s damn near comatose.

  Evan: Can you send pictures and a documented time log of his activities?

  Me: What the FUCK, man?

  Evan: It’s still in the experimental stages.

  Me: Experimental stages??

  My mind raced as I tried to think of what to do. If we had a cat die on this show, we were going to be in deep shit. We might even get canceled by the network. Estelle would be devastated, and I’d never forgive myself.

  As if Evan read my thoughts, he sent another text.

  Evan: I’m totally kidding! Don’t panic. We’ve had this happen a couple times, but it’s not harmful. Some cats react strongly. Let me know if he doesn’t snap out of it within an hour.

  Evan: And sorry he’s catatonic. Get it? Cat-atonic? Haha I love making that joke.

  Me: Not funny.

  A gasp drew my attention to the doorway.

  “What’s wrong with Peter?” Estelle hurried over, concern etched on her face. Nikki wasn’t far behind.

  “He’s having a strong reaction to the sedatives,” I told her. “The pharmacist said it’s not dangerous, though.”

  “Oh, poor baby,” Estelle cooed, her sweet voice going straight to my cock. She hesitantly reached for Peter. “Can I hold him?”

  Nodding, I placed him in her arms. “Yeah. He’s yours, after all.”

  “This is the first time I’ve ever gotten to hold him like this. He never lets me cuddle.” She softly stroked his fur while rocking him like a baby. Her serious eyes shot up to mine. “How pissed do you think he’ll be later if I take advantage of the fact that he’s high?”

  I laughed. “It’s probably best if we keep him in our sights, so, cuddle away.”

  “Momma!” Lizzie’s screech caused panic to shoot through me.

  What now? I really didn’t want anything else going wrong today.

  All three of us approached where she sat in the corner, petting the peach-colored cat sleeping in one of the beds. My heart warmed. She’d found Cindy all on her own.

  “Look. This one’s just like me.” Kneeling down next to Cindy, she positioned herself so their faces were side by side. She looked up at us, letting her hair fall away from her face. A rare, unguarded moment for her.

  “Oh,” Estelle breathed out, barely managing to stifle her gasp of surprise when she saw Lizzie’s scar.

  What I hadn’t told Estelle was, Lizzie had been born with a cleft lip too. A simple cosmetic surgery had fixed it, but a scar on the left side remained, becoming more prominent when she smiled. And she was smiling now. A big, exuberant smile.

  I didn’t tell Estelle on purpose; I wanted an honest, unfiltered reaction. The way people responded to Lizzie’s birth defect said a lot about their character.

  A test.

  And she passed with flying colors, just like I suspected she would.

  I don’t know why I cared. Why was her reaction so important to me? Knowing she was a good person only made it ten times more difficult to stay professional, made me want her more than I already did.

  Swallowing hard, Estelle gave me a grateful grin as she mouthed, “Thank you.”

  I returned a smile that said, ‘you’re welcome.’

  Gently placing Peter in his bed, she kissed his head before turning back to Lizzie. “Look, your hair color matches. Cindy’s a strawberry-blond, too. Twinsies, for sure.”

  “You hear that, Mom?” Lizzie beamed. “We’re twinsies.”

  “Would you like to see her favorite toy?” Estelle sat on the floor next to them and grabbed a wicker basket full of feathers and strings. “She can fetch like a dog.”

  Pulling out a spongy ball, she waved it in front of Cindy to get her attention, then threw it out into the hall. The cat sprang after it and returned less than ten seconds later with it in her mouth. Cindy dropped it by Lizzie’s feet. My happy niece clapped like it was the best trick she’d ever seen.

  Nikki pinched my forearm and hissed, “You’re such an awful sneak.”

  “What are you talking about?” I feigned innocence.

  She made a rude noise. Glancing down at the pair becoming fast friends, she didn’t say anything else. She didn’t need to.

  She was going to adopt that cat and both of us knew it.

  Letting out a resigned sigh, she joined the girls on the floor in their game of fetch. Even though the day had started out shitty, it was times like this when I loved my job.

  CHAPTER 6

  ESTELLE

  When I boxed up Cindy’s things, I did a pretty good job of keeping my emotions in check. I collected her foam balls, her bed, a litter box, and scooped several days’ worth of food into a sandwich baggie.

  I decided to keep the framed picture. It was mine. And in a few minutes, it was the only piece of Cindy I’d have left.

  For some reason, letting go of her monogramed bowl was the hardest part. Emery had to practically pry it from my fingers.

  With a sympathetic expression, Nikki offered to let me visit any time. After all, they were less than fifteen minutes away.

  “I would like that,” I told her honestly. Struggling with the lump in my throat, I bent down to give Cindy one more scratch on the head before shutting the metal door on the carrier.

  She looked confused and a little scared. I wanted to tell her it would be okay, that she would be happy at her new home. But I was afraid if I tried to talk, I’d burst into tears, and I didn’t want her to see me cry.

  And then she was gone.

  I went out to the balcony to watch them leave. Curling my fingers around the chicken wire, I gripped it tighter than necessary, hoping the sting would stop me from becoming a weepy basket case on camera.

  Nikki carefully placed the carrier in the backseat while Lizzie danced around like she was the happiest little girl in the world. Then she clamored into the car with her new pet. Within a minute, the vehicle was zipping away, along with the cat I’d come to love so much.

  Emery softly touched my shoulder. “You okay?”

  Nodding, I swallowed hard.

  Dammit. I hated crying, especially in front of people.

  “I didn’t realize it was going to be this difficult.” My voice broke. My nose burned and my chin trembled. Clearing my throat, I struggled to get my shit together as I looked up into kind blue eyes. “All the sleepless nights. Setting my alarm every two hours to feed her. It was worth it.”

  “I’m really proud of you,” Emery praised. “For taking care of Cindy and for letting her go.”

  Oh, geez. Was he trying to make me cry?

  “She couldn’t have gone to a better home, Emery. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said with a smile.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should be happy right now.” Despite my attempt to blink away the tears, they escaped anyway, spilling down my cheeks. One ran to the corner of my mouth.

  “Estelle,” Emery whispered, automatically bringing his hand up to my face to brush the wetness away.

  His thumb swept over my lips and I held in a gasp.

  Suddenly, I forgot about the cameras and crew surrounding us. I forgot about the bittersweet sadness.

  For a few seconds, we were the only two people in the world.

>   In person, Emery Matheson wasn’t anything like the man on TV. He was so much more. On the surface he was incredibly sexy, but underneath his good looks and charisma, he was compassionate, patient, and kind—that was more attractive than anything else.

  Something was happening between us. Lust slammed through my body, my chest tightening, my heart pounding. Emery was making me feel a kind of connection I’d never had before.

  The boys I dated in high school were just that—boys. And my ex… Well, I wasn’t kidding when I told Janice he was a bore. Missionary position, all the way. And only in the bed at night with the lights off. He wouldn’t even take a shower with me. In fact, I was pretty sure we never saw each other fully naked during our relationship.

  Even in broad daylight, he looked right through me. He never saw me. The real me.

  But Emery did.

  And it was impossible to miss the hunger in his eyes as he rubbed his thumb back and forth over my bottom lip, wiping away the remainder of my tears.

  “Okay, cut it,” Steve said with a clap, and I almost growled at him for interrupting the most sexually charged moment of my life. “Let’s pack it in for the day.”

  Without breaking eye contact, Emery and I both took a step back. And as much as I felt the loss of his warmth, I knew I needed the distance. I needed time away from him to get my head on straight.

  And alcohol. Lots of alcohol.

  CHAPTER 7

  ESTELLE

  I took three huge gulps of my wine as I watched a rerun of The Pussy Tamer.

  “The house smells like a dumpster,” the distraught woman cried. “We’re going to have to replace all the carpets. I can’t tell you how many puddles I’ve stepped in. We love Mr. Boots, but it’s just not sanitary! Do you know what it’s like to slip a foot into your new Louboutins, only to have a cat turd squished between your toes?” Her voice rose to near shrieking.

  “I can’t say that I do,” Emery responded, running a hand over his mouth.

  I suspected he was trying not to laugh.

  Draining the rest of my glass, I rubbed my thighs together to quell the ache between my legs. Subjecting myself to Emery on TV wasn’t exactly giving myself the distance I needed. But he sure was nice to look at.