Cat Scratch Fever

by Sophie Mouette

  ‘I just have a grant proposal to finish,’ she said. ‘If I don’t email it by nine a.m. tomorrow, we’ll lose it. Two hours, tops. We have to take a break sometime, right?’

  He considered. ‘You’ll have to work for the time off,’ he said, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and watching her shudder with delight.

  ‘I’m a hard worker,’ she said helpfully.

  ‘So I’ve heard,’ he said. ‘And you’re already making me hard.’

  ‘I’m not even touching you,’ she protested.

  ‘I like watching you,’ he said, his voice roughening with desire. ‘Seeing how you respond when I do this –’ He pinched her other nipple. ‘Or this –’ He leant closer and gently sank his teeth into that spot on her neck, the one he’d so ingeniously found the night before. ‘Or this –’ He slid his hand down her torso and cupped her mound. The tips of his fingers dipped between her legs, gently urging her to part them. He languidly toyed with her pussy lips, and she couldn’t contain a mewl of pleasure, designed to encourage him to explore further.

  ‘See?’ he said, but she’d forgotten what he’d been talking about. She was already wet, already wanting him. ‘How can I not react to the way you respond?’

  She felt his hardening cock against her thigh and realised he was right. She spread her legs wider, hopeful, and he dipped a finger inside, just a little way. Then he moved his hand away, before raising it to his mouth and tasting her.

  ‘Lick me,’ she begged.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  With obvious reluctance, he released her. ‘Room service,’ he said.

  Felicia considered screaming with unreleased tension, but decided it would probably scare the room-service waiter. Instead, she propped herself up and watched as Gabe dragged on a pair of faded jeans. They hung low on his hips, accentuating his taut stomach. His burgeoning erection pressed against the button fly. He almost looked yummier half-dressed than he did naked. Maybe it was because then she could strip his clothes off and start over. Unwrap him like the best birthday present in the world.

  She was so entranced by the fantasies she was concocting that she almost forgot that she was hungry. But then he wheeled the tray into the room, and her senses were assaulted with the mouth-watering smells. Strawberries, brie and French bread. Scrambled eggs and bacon and sausages. Croissants and three kinds of jam. A delectable pastry assortment. Orange juice and champagne for mimosas, and coffee and cream.

  She stared in amazement at the wide and varied assortment. Was he planning on feeding everyone on this floor of the hotel?

  He saw her look and laughed. ‘I didn’t know what you liked, so I ordered a selection of things. We’ve had two dinners together, so I know you’re not a vegetarian.’

  His instinct to order a lot had proved right. Post-sex ravenous hunger drew them to replenish their lost energy. And then food became sex toys.

  He swirled a strawberry around the entrance of her cunt, licked it clean as if it had been dipped in cream, and repeated the motion. The tiny rough spots on the fruit felt exquisite, and she was all the more gratified when he left the fruit there, drew it back out with his mouth, and then began licking her, until she was squirming and crying out and coming all over his face.

  She returned the favour, dribbling champagne down along his twitching cock and then licking every inch of him clean. It wasn’t easy, of course, because the more she licked, the more sweet pre-come oozed out, and then she had to lick that off…Eventually, she just gave up and took him in her mouth, as deep as he would go, and used her hands and lips and tongue to bring him off.

  And that was just breakfast…

  * * *

  Something licked at Mel’s hand. ‘Stop it, José,’ she muttered. Then she came fully awake. Phu Dog sat by the side of the bed, his tongue lolling, looking worried as only a dog badly in need of food and walkies can. The light slanting under her white rice-paper shades said it was late morning, almost noon. On the northeast corner of the apartment building and facing the courtyard, her bedroom saw little sun before then.

  Why was José still there? Oh, that’s right, it wasn’t José. (Always important to remember these things before you said a half-dazed good morning to the wrong lover.)

  Somehow, they’d crawled from the bed long enough to run through a quick shower, but the last of their energy washed away with the sweat and splooge and they’d stumbled back, already more than half-asleep, while still wet.

  Lance was sprawled on his side, still snoring. His normally spiky hair had formed tight curls because he hadn’t done anything with it before he passed out. He’d probably hate the effect, but it was all she could do to keep from playing with them.

  Let him sleep a little longer. He looked so adorable like that, all the toughness leached out of his face and replaced with an innocence he’d probably never had. Once he woke up, there were bound to be a few awkward moments as they tried to figure out what it meant. She was pretty sure it meant nothing much on her end except impulsive fun. But Lance had been interested in her for a while. She hoped that the interest was purely carnal. She could definitely see romping with him again. He was acrobatic, energetic – one hell of a good ride – and she genuinely liked the guy. But she was so not going all hearts and flowers with him.

  She figured it was a bad sign for that sort of thing if, while she watched her handsome boy-toy sleep off some really hot sex, she was still thinking about calling the guy she was supposed to be mad at.

  14

  Felicia floated into work Monday morning on a cloud of hormones and the kind of high you hit just before you keel over from sleeplessness. Her thighs felt like she’d run a marathon over the weekend, her shoulders were sore from supporting herself in various acrobatic positions and she’d had to carefully choose a sleeveless, high-collared shirt to cover up a love bite just above her collarbone. Her abs ached from coming so much.

  She’d never felt better.

  She’d made a point of heading in early, leaving Gabe to follow at his usual time. It would be hard enough to be discreet without showing up at the same time sporting identical goofy grins and that ‘I spent the last 24 hours having spectacular sex’ spring in their step.

  Some of that sex had happened shortly before she headed out, leaving her with damp hair and no makeup after a hurried second shower. She was still purring internally as she sat down at her desk, feasting upon happy thoughts of being caught from behind when she bent over to grab her bra off the floor.

  She was doing her best to stomp on any thoughts about the fact Gabe was flying back to New York on the red-eye that evening. The timing sucked but, if it was just a fling, it was the best damn fling of her life, and that was something.

  Given her to-do list, she wouldn’t have time to worry about a possible future or (unfortunately) to replay the sizzling bits with possible variations. She’d finished the grant over the weekend at last, but she needed to check in with Debbie, call the temp agency to confirm the waiters, follow up with some of the corporate calls, push tickets and check in with the local classical radio station, who’d agreed to promote the benefit in exchange for a pair of tickets. The last would be a good place to start, as her contact got in early.

  As she was reaching for the phone, it rang. Odd – usually getting in at 7.30 ensured her an hour or so of quiet.

  ‘This is Bob Alfredi from Alfredi Motors. Is the benefit still on?’

  Being dazed from sex and sleepless nights was, in this case, a good thing. Everything already seemed a little off-kilter to Felicia at the moment so the question didn’t seem that odd. ‘Yes. We’ve got you and your wife scheduled in the first group to go through and see Noelle’s cubs.’ Only after she replied did she wonder why he was asking.

  ‘Good. I figured I should double-check after seeing the Independent this morning – it sounded like you guys had some major setbacks.’

  She blinked in confusion. The Addison paper had mentioned the sewage leak brief
ly on Saturday, but, following the Sanctuary’s press release, they’d stressed that it was fairly minor and that the Sanctuary would reopen by Monday. What now? Felicia faked it by smiling (smiling always helped, even if they couldn’t see you) and saying, ‘Nothing we couldn’t handle. Everything’s back on track.’

  Once Mr Alfredi got off the phone, she checked the day’s Addison Independent, which otherwise would have moved right from her briefcase to the ever-growing stack of unread newspapers on the floor next to the desk.

  Nothing on the front page. She flipped through.

  The lead headline on the editorial page was ‘Bad Things Come in Threes for Southern California Cat Sanctuary’.

  The subhead was worse: ‘Does Something Stink at SCCS?’

  The ‘Oh fuck’ that popped out of her mouth was loud enough that Katherine (Felicia hadn’t realised she was in yet but, then again, did her boss ever really leave these days?) popped her head in to see what was wrong.

  Together, the two women read the editorial. Short as it was, it took a while, owing to several breaks to field more phone calls enquiring if the benefit was still on.

  Addison’s own Southern California Cat Sanctuary is highly respected in zoo circles for its cutting-edge efforts in breeding the most endangered wild cats.

  It’s also broke. And a major benefit scheduled for this Saturday has been plagued with setbacks, some of which have also affected the Sanctuary’s much-needed gate revenue.

  It went on to detail the Sanctuary’s financial woes, the layoffs that had affected benefit planning along with so much else over the winter and the recent fire alarm and sewage leak.

  Something besides the sewage stinks here. We don’t mean Executive Director Dr Katherine O’Dare (although some might say she’s more a visionary than a manager) or her staff. We mean the circumstances, a chain of misfortunes severe enough that you can’t help wondering if someone has it in for big cats. Will the beleaguered facility be able to pull things together by Saturday? And, if they do, will guests pay $200 a ticket to party in the recently excavated courtyard, site of Friday’s leak?

  With luck good things as well as bad come in threes. The recent birth of four Amur leopard cubs (they’re the world’s most endangered felines) and the city’s fast response to Friday’s smelly disaster were two blessings. We at the Independent hope a successful benefit on Saturday will be a third – if nothing else goes wrong.

  ‘ “More a visionary than a manager?”’ Felicia threw the newspaper on her desk. A stack of already precarious files toppled to the floor. ‘Can I just strangle this guy for you? Do they have any idea how hard –’

  Katherine shook her head. ‘Hey, there’s some truth to it. I’m a scientist, not an MBA. If it weren’t for some of our board members, we’d be in even worse shape.’

  ‘Thank goodness for Mrs Turner,’ Felicia said from behind her desk, trying to figure out in which folders the scattered spreadsheet printout and other paperwork belonged.

  ‘I was thinking more of Richard Enoch and Sarah Wu. Valerie’s even less of a number-cruncher than I am – even if she is the main reason we still have any finances left to deal with. And it could be worse,’ Katherine continued. ‘That’s the only slam in here, other than the headline. It’s really not that bad.’ She didn’t sound convinced. Especially when the phone rang again, with yet another potential donor wondering if the benefit was still on.

  * * *

  Between fielding incoming calls, contacting as many guests and potential guests as possible to reassure them, drafting yet another press release and still trying to squeeze in everything else on her checklist, Felicia hardly had a chance to think about Gabe until lunchtime. The only good news was that a few – not many, but she was being stubbornly optimistic – of the incoming calls were people who wanted to buy tickets, prompted by the editorial.

  In a break between calls, Felicia was engrossed in trying to redo her budget projections with the new sales and the chair-rental prices she’d just got. Soft lips nuzzling the back of her neck roused her from her spreadsheet haze.

  Her reaction – jumping in her seat enough that she practically head-butted Gabe – was probably not the one he’d been hoping for, but it did provoke a chuckle. ‘You certainly are focused. I knocked, walked in, closed the door behind me and snuck up on you and you still didn’t notice.’

  ‘But now that I know you’re here, I think I can ignore this mess for a second.’ She stood up to give him what she meant to be a quick kiss.

  It wasn’t quick.

  Felicia fought to keep a handle on propriety, but it was a losing battle. The simple kiss made her feel like butterflies were dancing on her skin, leaving her shivering in a delightful way. And if butterflies were dancing on her skin, her nipples were the main dance floor and her clit had to be the crowded spot right in front of the throbbing speakers.

  She ground against him, feeling his hardness burgeoning beneath his tailored trousers. She was wearing a skirt and no stockings. It would be so easy to have a quickie, right here in her office.

  ‘Does that door lock?’ Gabe whispered. Two minds with a single dirty thought.

  ‘I wish.’ And she kissed him again, this time reaching down to cup his balls for the pleasure of feeling him shudder.

  She was breathless by the time they broke apart, breathless and trembling. ‘I put on special underwear for you this morning and it’s already soaked!’ She quickly lifted her skirt to flash her pearl-embroidered silk thong – the one she’d picked up at a very expensive lingerie store in LA and up to now had never worn. Dampness was spreading on the iridescent burgundy fabric. ‘I hope you’re satisfied.’

  ‘Hardly.’ His lazy grin made it clear that, while he might not be satisfied, he was enjoying the delicious torment as much as she was. ‘I won’t be satisfied until I can make you scream.’

  Just hearing that made the sliver of silk even more saturated. Why did he have to go back to New York so soon?

  ‘And you?’ he added.

  ‘Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be satisfied until the benefit’s a success, and until I know who paid off those kids to vandalise us. Sated, if I’m lucky –’ a knowing smile ‘– but not satisfied.’

  ‘I can’t help much with the benefit, but maybe if we put our heads together we can figure out something about our criminal mastermind. Want to talk about it over lunch?’

  She was about to say an enthusiastic yes when the phone rang again. Once the call ended – it was a long-time donor who hadn’t ordered tickets yet, but did by the end of the call, reassured that the event would take place – she shook her head. ‘I wish I could, but all the would-be partygoers are calling on their lunch hour, which makes it hard to take mine.’

  Gabe grinned. ‘I know about pre-party panic, so I got us lunch.’ He pointed to an In-n-Out Burger bag on her spare chair. ‘Figured if you didn’t even have time to talk I could at least make sure you ate.’

  ‘I know what I’d like to eat.’ She leered. ‘But there’s really no time for that. Maybe after work. Meanwhile, thanks for bringing lunch.’

  She cleaned off a corner of her desk (no small feat, as it involved moving a hanging-file box, three used coffee cups and a framed photo of Pancho Villa) and they set up. What a difference a few days made – instead of trying to avoid each other’s touch, they now sat thigh to thigh, revelling in the contact.

  After eating, more flirting and feeding each other French fries (and two more phone calls), Gabe asked, ‘So, have you had any time to think about suspects?’

  She got out a pad and paper, not wanting to trust it to the work computer.

  ‘First, Alan,’ she ticked off. ‘I don’t think he’d be the mastermind, but a lot of the weird incidents happened on his watch. He knows the local gangs. Maybe he’s been on the take all along, even when he was still a cop. Seriously, though, I can’t imagine it. He’s such a sweetheart.’

  ‘How about Donovan? He’s been really co-operative with me, but
he could be using me as a red herring.’

  She stroked his thigh. ‘You don’t feel like herring to me. You feel like one hundred per cent USDA Prime Beefcake.’ Still, she added Donovan to the list.

  ‘And if we’re talking far-fetched,’ he added, ‘Valerie Turner.’

  At that one, she snorted. ‘No way!’

  ‘You’ve said she’s odd.’

  ‘And how! But she’s a good person. If someone had anonymously hired kids to dress up like leopards and go door to door for donations, I’d guess her, but she wouldn’t do anything malicious.’

  ‘I’ve heard she invests in land.’

  Felicia snorted again. ‘Not exactly invests. She buys it from under developers’ noses and donates it to The Nature Conservancy. She and Richard Enoch have bumped heads about that because he wants Addison to grow and she wants to protect the desert.’

  ‘OK, scratch her. Who suggested selling the land in the first place?’

  She thought for a second. ‘We had an offer from a developer in Los Angeles; they’re already on my list. A couple of board members were for it at first, but it was voted down. One was Bruce Schechter, which surprised me because he was new and I didn’t think he’d go out on a limb like that. I’d have to look back in the minutes to see who the other one was; I wasn’t actually there.’

  She made a note to check it out, circling it three times and adding an exclamation point.

  ‘What about the other board members?’

  ‘Dr Jaxtimer is a no. Even more than Katherine, her life is all about big-cat conservation. Besides, she’s been in Nepal studying snow leopards for the past four months. David Abrams and Sarah Wu seem honest enough. They’re both entrepreneurs, though, and some deal might have tempted one of them too much.’ She added them. ‘Richard was great until this year, but he let the ball drop with the corporate fundraising. I have to cut him some slack there because I didn’t keep on him. Volunteers need a lot of reminders or things slip through the cracks.’