Nude, she kicked her clothes into a pile near her bureau and lay atop her bed. Stretched on her back, she bent her legs and spread her knees, exposing her pussy to a free hand. She brushed over the thinned thatch of hair and pinched and pulled at her labia in hopes of finding relief. That wouldn’t happen without an orgasm, and she saw no reason to tease herself into a frenzy.
She circled her clit with one finger—slowly at first, then with increased speed while she rolled one nipple between her right thumb and forefinger. With her husband gone, she didn’t masturbate often. Once in a while she’d break down and seek out the small vibrator they’d used together during kinkier moments, but often she’d spend more time searching for batteries that worked in it. Her hand typically sufficed until it cramped or she fell asleep before the big bang.
Well, not today. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d come so hard she saw stars flash behind her eyes. Sheila rubbed and tapped at her clit, willing that oh so good feeling. In her mind she conjured the memory of her husband crouched between her thighs, licking her and pumping his fingers into her wet hole. While she simmered she tried other images—other sex positions and partners like men, women, then men and women on top of her writhing. The orgasm continued to evade her and she blew out a breath in exasperation.
She heard a door slam. Terrific. Jimmy came home, but she hardly worried about an interruption. Since the Sandy disaster he’d turned quieter, obviously affected by the rough weather they experienced and the sight of the ruins when the skies cleared. Most days he kept to himself with books, which she shouldn’t have minded. She worried he might stay in his shell forever, and intended to have him assist with the Elves event to get him around people and cheer again.
Her head turned toward the clock. “Huh.” Had she really burned off an hour trying to come? She didn’t think she’d dried up that badly. Maybe she just wasn’t in the right frame in mind. After all, the painters had worked downstairs, and the knowledge could have stewed in her deep consciousness and prevented her climax. It’s one thing to make love to your husband when your children are fast asleep in their rooms, but getting off with workers downstairs…
Curling onto her side, she crossed one arm over her breasts and closed her eyes. She was bone tired, having worked for days to set up this charity event for the township. She looked forward to watching the last happy child leave the venue with an armful of toys, then helping with cleanup. The time after that belonged to her. With Trisha and Malcolm coming home from New York City, and Caleb and Calla planning to join them for dinner, she could celebrate her first holiday in a new, finished home with all the people who meant the world to her. She let the warmth of anticipation lull her into a comfortable nap.
Seconds, maybe minutes or an hour later, another door slam jarred her into a sitting position. Jimmy leaving, or the Hinkley brothers? “Hello?” she called out, and moved to sit up. She looked down at her naked body, then made a peripheral search around the room for a robe or suitable cover. Damn it, if the painters left they were supposed to have told her. She remembered Grant’s words about the donation for Elves of Bliss, and hoped if they took off they left the check somewhere visible.
She listened, holding her breath. Footsteps lumbered closer. Probably Jimmy coming back from the kitchen with a snack. They rarely ate dinner together these days due to conflicting schedules and appetites. “Jimmy? Did the painters leave?”
No answer. “I bet he’s got those damn earbuds in,” she muttered. Music at full blast, blocking out the world. She stood to dress and had slipped on her blouse when several light taps landed on her door.
Sheila’s heart stopped. Jimmy never knocked. He was a teenager; he barged into every room like he owned it. Caleb? No, he’d call before coming over. That left…
“I’m not decent!” she cried, and fastened a middle button on the blouse, enough to cover her breasts. Frantically she grabbed her skirt and got one leg inside when the latch gave way and Jonah came into view.
“What the hell!” She lost the skirt thanks to trembling hands and she crossed her legs to conceal her privates. She likened the moment to a bad romantic comedy, with every scene featuring the dumb jock walking in on his future mother-in-law. They’d both soon scream and run in opposite directions, praying for a strong brain bleach to wipe away the memory of such embarrassment.
Yet that didn’t happen. The door closed as Jonah leaned against it. He appraised her coolly, arms crossed over his wide chest. Paint speckled his white t-shirt which, when pulled against his muscles, sported the twin tiny bumps of his hardened nipples.
“Jonah, you shouldn’t be up here. Why aren’t you downstairs, and where’s Grant?” She tried to sound forceful but Jonah intimidated her, and caught her off guard. Why did he have to look so damn sexy standing in front of her? Why had he picked now? Of course, she knew—Jonah had clearly scented her arousal and come up to help her with it.
“We’re done. He’s left. He has a date later.”
“Why haven’t you gone with him?”
He shrugged with a lopsided grin. “I hoped to have a date right here.” He stepped closer and her legs hit the bed when she attempted to move away. “It’s just the two of us right now, and I could scent you from the kitchen. Woman, you are so damn hot.”
“Maybe they’re hot flashes,” she snapped.
“Come on, you’re not that old.”
Her skirt slipped over one hip and she grabbed at the fabric to keep her covered. “Jonah, really, I’m flattered by all the attention, but it doesn’t change the fact that—”
“What, that I find you attractive? That you’re a desirable woman and deserve to be treated like one?” He frowned at her. “Sheila, I don’t care if you’re older than me. You definitely don’t look or act it. What is your problem?”
“You barged into my room uninvited, for one.” Sheila clutched her blouse closed with her other hand. “I have done nothing to give you the impression that I am interested in anything more than you painting my damn house. Now that the job is finished, there’s no reason for you stay.”
“If you’re all that concerned about my compromising your integrity or virtue, you could have buttoned the rest of your blouse or zipped up your skirt, huh? And you had no problem with me seeing you naked last night, so why the modesty now?” He tilted his head to regard her, and she looked down at how she fisted her clothes close to her body. She did look silly, yes, and Jonah had a point. All the while her pussy throbbed and liquid heat pooled close to a boiling point. Missing the lovemaking she’d enjoyed with her husband kept her pulse racing, but it didn’t mean she had to pounce on Jonah out of convenience.
She wasn’t ancient, but she believed in love. She didn’t do casual flings.
What are you thinking, Sheila?
Damn it. Jonah couldn’t get into her head right now. She was tired and frustrated and horny and couldn’t think straight.
“Y-you should go,” she said, and cringed. That crack in her voice split all the way down her reserve. She couldn’t convince an Eskimo to put on a coat, the way she talked.
“Sheila, I can hear your blood surging. You’re primed for me. Like hell am I walking away without at least one kiss.” Jonah stood inches from her, and reached up to brush her cheek with his thumb—his fingers tucked behind her ear. “One kiss,” he said, “and I promise if you don’t feel anything I’ll turn around and we’ll forget this happened.”
She wavered, pressing her face now into his open palm. She’d not take that bet. His mere touch rendered her pliant to her baser desires. Silently she looked deep into his eyes and willed that kiss. When his lips claimed hers her arms worked on their own, looping around his neck, her fingers threading into his short hair.
He groaned against her, nudging the seam open with his tongue. Minutes—a few, a hundred—passed with them in a passionate clinch. Sheila’s body came alive in his arms; it felt as though her skin turned hypersensitive, retaining the heat of his hands trailing d
own her spine, cupping her ass, then sliding over a hip to find her pussy.
Somewhere in the course of their lip lock the air circled her legs. She’d lost the skirt completely and she levitated. Jonah lifted her and moved to lay her on the bed.
Sheila, I want you. He thrummed through her mind, his voice like silk. His hard-on pressed against her thigh and she shifted to line it up along her uncovered mound. Even concealed in his jeans, it seemed impressive and thick. Jonah thrust forward, rubbing the rough fabric over her cleft and nearly brushing her clit. One swipe might have sent her to the moon.
Could she fight it? Hell, she wanted this. Before Jim had died, he insisted she not wait forever to resume a healthy sex life, or forgo one altogether. It never occurred to her, before Jonah, that a gorgeous panther might be interested.
She didn’t intend to dissuade him. Oh, no.
He opened he blouse to reveal her breasts, and Jonah raised himself on one arm and with the free hand palmed her bare skin. His fingers brushed over a puckered nipple and coaxed it to a hardened state. She watched him study his movements. His smile quirked up one side of his lip, yet his eyes smoldered with mischief. She found it a challenge to read his emotions—he’d turned playful and passionate, and she didn’t know what to expect from tonight.
Except maybe for a jolt of pleasure up her spine via her clit. Oh! Jonah rocked his hips forward and the bulge in his pants grazed her sensitive pussy again. She twitched underneath, aching for more contact. “Please,” she begged.
Jonah looked at her as though he intended to chide her, but remained silent. Pushing away from her body, he undid the fly and slid out of his clothing. He kept his gaze on hers the entire time, engaging in a hypnotic striptease that left her breathless when her line of vision rested on his impressive cock. He’d hardened above a nest of dark curls, thick and long. He cupped his balls and stroked the base of his shaft and she licked her lips, wishing for a taste before he entered her.
“Sheila, I can’t wait,” he told her as he lowered back to the bed. Stretched alongside her with his hard-on pressed against her thigh, he reached down to finger her clit and pussy lips. “I’ve dreamed of this for weeks, and if I hold out any longer I won’t make it.” She felt him slip into her hole and squirmed.
“You’re wet and ready for me.” He grunted out a deep laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good. You will come.”
What words she planned for him were stifled by his kiss. Jonah filled her mouth right when his hand left her, and he shifted between her legs to finally claim her. Sheila bucked her hips upward in silent encouragement, and within seconds his cock entered her.
Yes! Her lips still pinned to his, she moaned her approval. Hands clutched at his back, then his ass to guide his thrusts. Everything surrounding them faded into the dark—only they existed in this moment. Sheila closed her eyes to center on how good Jonah made her feel. Concerns about the Elves of Bliss event, holiday guests, the paint job...it all went away.
Jonah broke off their kiss and marked her with light brushes over her cheeks, down her neck, and on her shoulder. The bed rocked beneath him and he pumped harder into her. Her fingers slid down his back with the light sheen of sweat covering him. “So good,” he murmured, his breath warming her ear. “Tight.”
She responded by curling her legs over his and clamping down on him. He twitched in her arms, clearly feeling the difference. Sheila opened her eyes to see his dreamy smile as he arched back and lifted to thrust at another angle. She looked down to where they connected, gasping at his girth disappearing into her. This was actually happening. A younger man was fucking her in her house.
Why in hell had she resisted this?
“You gonna come for me, Sheila? Huh?” Jonah crushed her and fucked hard, moving fast. Her nipples brushed his chest hair and the delicious friction caused her to whimper. The pressure on her clit brought on the first tingle of a growing orgasm and she shifted to keep the sensation. With every new contact of their bodies her skin responded and she ached for more. Sheila prided herself on her self-control, but at this point she only wanted release, and her kisses turned feverish as she clawed Jonah’s back.
She’d become lost in passion, and didn’t care if she found her way back. Her climax brewed along with the stirring of her panther senses and she fought back her animal instincts. No, it wouldn’t do to shift in the middle of this.
I feel your panther, Sheila. Maybe next time we fuck as cats, yes?
She hadn’t the energy to process his thoughts. One more thrust sent her over the edge, and Sheila rolled her head to one side and let out a pained cry. Her orgasm rippled over her, making her pussy twitch while Jonah continued pumping into her. As the joyous feeling faded she felt his heat before he grunted out his climax. Slick with sweat, he collapsed atop her to catch his breath before rolling to one side and scooping her into his arms.
“Thank you,” he said after he calmed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. That was so incredible.”
“Yes.” She definitely couldn’t argue. She hadn’t enjoyed so powerful a roll in the hay since her youth, when she and her husband didn’t have to worry about waking little kids. Of course, that didn’t mean the sex diminished as they grew older—she’d savored moments of slow lovemaking as well.
Jonah traced the small smile curving her lips, and she turned back to see him nod in understanding. He surely sensed the change in her emotions, and she wanted to reassure him. She’d treasure memories of her marriage, but would remain in the present.
Suddenly he frowned. “Shit. I forgot about protection.”
“Why is that a problem?” Panthers were immune to human STDs.
“What if you get…?” He gestured down her body, creating a round shape near her belly. Sheila laughed.
“Oh, that. No, no more kids for me. You don’t have to worry.” She’d had her tubes tied after her son was born. It wasn’t recommended for panthers to utilize permanent birth control methods, but she felt two was enough and insisted on it.
“Ah, okay. That’s good, then.” He sounded disappointed, which confused her.
“What?” she asked, and turned to snuggle against his side. She draped an arm over his chest and watched the rise and fall as his breathing steadied. “I’m fine with it. I don’t need to be over forty and having babies all over again. Besides, Trisha will no doubt give me at least one grandchild, and he doesn’t need an aunt or uncle the same age.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” Jonah said, the words slow and deep. He shook his head, and Sheila knew something about this bothered him. He couldn’t possibly think…
Obviously he sensed the need to air out this issue, and he sat up, dislodging her touch. “I can’t mate with a woman who can’t give me cubs, Sheila.”
“Mate? Why in the world would I want a mate?”
Chapter Four
Wow. He hadn’t expected that kind of response. If anybody in the panther community espoused tradition, Sheila Houlihan fit the bill. Widowed panthers often found new mates after a requisite mourning period, so why wouldn’t she want to share her life with somebody else?
He looked down at her, struck speechless for a moment by her puzzled expression. When his voice returned he spoke slowly so as to have her understand his point of view. “Our numbers are still pretty low…”
“And there are enough younger panthers to procreate and perpetuate the race. I did my part.” Sheila reached for the comforter’s edge and pulled the fabric over her nude body. Why the sudden modesty again? Had he pissed her off to the point that she felt he no longer deserved to see her?
“All the same, I may not come from a prestigious family, but my brother and I deserve the same as other panthers. We’d like to mate eventually, and have families.”
“There’s nothing to stop that, Jonah. I don’t see what that has to do with me. I thought we were just having some fun here.”
Fun? Now he wanted to cover himself. Goodbye, sexy mood. He slid off the bed and gr
abbed for his pants, which still had his underwear tucked inside. He pulled both on over his hips with one hop and angrily yanked at the zipper. “What, so I’m just a boy toy to you, is that it? Some fantasy fuck with the handyman you can brag to the other Bliss Elves over tea?”
“Hey,” she snapped. The comforter flew to one side and she stood, fists pinned to her bare hips. In any other situation, he’d have found her ravishing and charged at her for a second round. “You were the one to come on to me. I didn’t ask you to sneak up to my room and seduce me.”
“You didn’t say no, either.”
“You have some nerve making this look like I led you on. Get out.” She pointed toward the door, and when he didn’t move she stormed to the threshold and waited for him to leave. “I don’t even care if the paint job is finished. I don’t want you or your brother back here again.”
“Sheila,” he began.
“Out!”
He couldn’t mistake the growl trilling in her throat. Any more fury might cause her to shift right there, and Jonah knew from experience not to mess with a mad panther. Collecting his remaining clothes, he loped away without offering her a second look. He blew it. This was why he ended up working in home improvement. He was nothing but a gruff, uncouth jerk.
At this point, he wouldn’t blame Sheila if she decided not to pay the balance of their bill, or else leave a bad review on Angie’s List. Once he reached the stairs she shouted down that she’d mail a check. Before he could thank her, her bedroom door slammed.
“Shit,” he muttered quietly, and put his shirt on before leaving the house.
Grant had taken the van, leaving him no other option but to walk home. With Bliss being a small town, one didn’t have to travel more than ten miles to get anywhere, and his place wasn’t that far from Sheila’s. Were he not so attached to his clothes—he only had so many changes—he’d shuck everything to shift and cut the commute in half.
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