“Hmm.” She ducked under his arms and walked to the door. Dylan let her go, and he wondered what her reply would be. As she put her hand on the door handle she turned and looked at him somberly.
“You need to woo me.”
Before he had the opportunity to ask how, she whisked through the doorway and with a flurry of skirts disappeared.
Fuck and hell. What exactly did woo mean?
****
He was trying, she had to give him that. Catlin arrived home after a long and not particularly satisfying run through the forest to see Dylan sitting on the bench by her back door. As ever, the sight of his long legs clad in his customary when not working denim, and unusually, his torso covered by a white dress shirt with a tie loose around his neck made her nipples tingle and her clit demand attention. Dammit.
The run had been intended to set her emotions on a level keel and admit to herself what she wanted—to discover if and how they could work as a couple—and get rid of her fidgets and anger over stupid things. Like the fact she hadn’t set eyes on him for over two weeks and she wanted to jump his bones.
Really and truly wanted to make love with him. After all, if they didn’t mesh in that scenario, would there be any point in going further?
But God, it had been a hard two weeks. Why on earth did she decide that once he’d gone away? She couldn’t even use the old adage absence makes the heart grow fonder. She’d always been fond. Maybe absence makes the clit go twitchier was a better expression. Bernie the bullet had been busier than usual.
The first of those weeks, she knew he’d been busy in London. As a renowned architect he was in demand, and that week was one of his reluctant got no option but to go south weeks. Each day, as she arrived home, a smirking postie had handed her a postcard.
With one word on it.
As her post was normally delivered a couple of hours earlier in the day, and slipped through the letter box, the grinning feline shifter had obviously waited to hand it to her personally. With a smirk the size of the local ben—mountain.
Dear…
Catlin…
I…
Just…
Want…
You…
To…
Know…
Then dammit she had to away with the school on an Outward Bound course.
What did he want her to know? And why oh why do it in such a public way? Not to force her hand in anything, that much she was sure of. That would not be Dylan’s way. He was too honest to do anything underhand like that.
Catlin spent the week shimmying up and down cliffs, swimming and canyoning and envying the shifter pupils who found everything so much easier than she did. When she had any time to think, it was all about Dylan. Why? What? And dammit she needed to get home and see if there was anything else. Things the postie and his cronies might know and she didn’t.
There was and there wasn’t.
Just a note from the postie saying ‘aww c’mon Cat. Put us ooot o’ oor misery’.
What about? How the hell did she know? She’d changed into her running gear and headed out.
Now he was here so she might find out something else maybe?
Dylan looked up as she approached and stood, his expression wary. ”I met Donnie the postie as I came into the village, he gave me grief over leaving them all wondering. Hell, Cat, I’m sorry. I never even thought of those nosy buggers reading them.” He ran his hand through his hair. No bobble or plait today she noticed, just long and loose like she preferred it. “I was trying to do the wooing bit, honestly.”
He looked so worried, her heart melted a bit.
“You, know? It’s so damned hard,” he continued. “Me, who is usually so in control, and I’m floundering here. I always thought you felt the same way as me. That we meant a lot to each other and that as we got older we’d be you know, the ones. Now you seem to be pulling further and further away and I don’t know why.”
Oh God it was much worse than she thought. “I…” she stuttered and faltered, unsure how to explain her muddled thoughts? “Look, come in while I shower and stop feeling all sweaty and stinky. I can’t have a serious conversation when I itch and smell.”
His face brightened and he sniffed in an exaggerated fashion. “You are a bit whiffy, but hey it’s y…ouch”
Catlin poked him in the stomach. “Good honest sweat.”
“Okay, yeah, exactly what I was about to say. Well almost. Lead the way.” He followed her indoors. “Do you want me to wash your back?”
“Why not?” She tossed the words over her shoulder as she took the stairs two at a time. “There’s always a bit I can’t reach.”
She chuckled to herself as his astonishment hit her in waves. That would have shaken him up a bit. On her run she’d achieved a lot of soul searching and had vowed one thing. Not to let what others thought put her off discovering what might develop. After all, he was their leader and it was understandable they’d want to know what was happening. However, she had no intention of telling them.
And she so did want to jump his bones.
For the first time ever she really sensed him as he drew closer. Once she moved forward off the top step she turned and almost knocked him back down the flight. That wouldn’t have been a good start.
Dylan grabbed her arms and steadied both of them. “If you’ve changed your mind, there are less drastic ways of stopping me. A simple, ‘not interested anymore’ would work. I’ve never been into force.”
“I know that you nit, I was gonna say do you think you’d better take a shower as well? After all you were sat outside for a while and you must be cold.”
He raised one eyebrow and grinned.
Duh idiot, he won’t feel the cold.
“But I’ve only got the one shower,” Catlin said and waited. He didn’t let her down.
“Well,” he drawled. “I’ve always heard it’s a good thing to conserve water. I’m a sucker for doing what I’m told.” It was just as well he took her hand or she would have fallen downstairs and taken him with her. Catlin spluttered as he winked.
“So we best do as we should eh?” He looked around him.
Chapter Three
“Second left,” Catlin said translating his quizzical expression correctly. “Ensuite.”
Dylan nodded and swept her into his arms. She giggled and rested her head on his shoulders. “Ah do deee-clare.” Her southern belle accent was pitch perfect. “You’re mah heyer-ro.”
This close her scent enveloped him. Made him want to purr and roar. After which, shift and show his other self in all his glory before shifting back and making love to her all night. And if he had his own way, all day.
Calm down. Little steps and one at a time.
Dylan nodded. “If I’m not yet, I intend to be,” he said as he put her back on her feet next to her bed. “Hands up.”
Catlin blinked. “You what?”
Grief how bad did that sound? “Hands up in the nicest possible way. I’m going to strip you, very, oh so very slowly,” he said softly and was relieved when her eyes went cloudy and she licked her lips. “Like unwrapping a long yearned-for present,” he said as he edged the hem of her sports vest over her hips and began to expose the soft, milky white skin of her middle. “The first thing is to ditch the top. In the interests of human shifter science, you know? We need to do more of it.”
“Ah.” Her blue eyes glinted. “Well who am I to stop your latent interest in science?” she said gravely as she lifted her hands above her shoulders. “Do carry on.”
“Oh the interest has been there,” Dylan said, equally as solemn as she. “I just had to keep it hidden until the right moment came along.” He eased the top and stretchy sports bra over her more than ample breasts and forced himself not to change tactics and simply lave them. “Did you know that blue eyes and red hair is the most rare combination of coloring?”
“What?” Her glance was fixed on his hands as they showed dark against her creamy bosom. “Eye…oh yea
h I know. I’m one of the weirdoes in more ways than one I gue… argh… more.” He'd given into temptation and nipped one hard nipple with his teeth. She tasted divine. Never mind sweat, it was honestly earned and he could block it out. He needed her then, not squeaky clean in ten minutes.
“Sod it, Cat. I have to be in you now.” He forced himself to let go of her boob, looked at her until she nodded and yanked her running leggings downwards. They snagged on her trainers.
Fuck and buggery.
She giggled, toed the shoes off and fumbled with his jeans fastening. “Why do they make these things so sodding fiddly?”
He threw her leggings somewhere near a chair, whipped his t-shirt off and flung it roughly in the same direction. “Let me. Oh fuck yeah… that is it, baby.” She’d managed to unfasten the button and was carefully lowering the zipper. With her hand between his cock and the teeth.
Dylan swore his eyes crossed as she snuck in little strokes and squeezes as the zip slowly, much too slowly, made its way south. Dammit, now he had a hard on severe enough to snap an ice pole, and with a fucking zipper he’d given a mind of its own.
“Enough,” he gasped as the sides of his denims spread apart and she took a good grip on his dick. “I want to come in you not on you.” A horrible thought struck him. “Shite. Condoms.”
She managed a breathy giggle as she pulled his jeans and trainers off all at once. “Second drawer down. Just in case.”
Thank the gods. Dylan picked Catlin up and dropped her on the bed. She bounced twice before he followed her in one long, catlike wriggle.
Then without any finesse he purred deep in his throat, and pounced. “Mine.” He nibbled his way across each shoulder and began to work his way towards his goal. Her beautiful red haired pussy mound.
Was he one of the few men who preferred hair on a cunt? To see a clit play peek a boo. To ruffle those gorgeous ginger curls and find the delights they hid? His cock leaked pre-cum at the thought. Yep definitely his ‘thing’.
Dylan palmed her breasts and groaned as Catlin took his dick and squeezed it.
“Oh my look, it’s saying hello,” she cooed. “Well hello there, sweet thing. You ready to dance, sexy?”
His eyes crossed, as in a move any cat would be proud of, she twisted until her head was level with his cock. “Well maybe I better say hello back.”
“Shi…it, Cat, that’s so fucking gorgeous.” He swore his dick swelled even more as she drew its rigid length into her mouth and sucked on it like her favorite lolly.
“Mmn Mumph dnphmp.”
Her words were undecipherable as they rumbled through him. And try as he might he was so immersed in sensation, so deep into what was happening between them he had no bloody idea what she said or thought.
Then he stopped thinking as he felt his climax build. “Shit, no, Cat, I want to be in you. It’s been so long since...er…God, I need… “ He moved her mouth by somewhat roughly putting his thumbs between her lips. She stared at him reproachfully. “Next time, yes please. It was so fucking amazing,” he said huskily as he did his best not to wheeze. “But the first time together please let me be in you. Feel your pussy around my dick. Spill deep into… ah shit…” He’d forgotten he’d need a condom. “Into a Johnny,” he finished ruefully. Ah well another day with luck. “Hold on, let me rubber up.”
Talk about a mood breaker. Silently Cat passed him a condom. As he took it from her she held onto one corner of the packet.
“How do you feel about me covering you?” she said softly and took the foil case out of his unresisting hold. “Because it would be both a honor and a pleasure.”
“Ah, yeah… Please.” He rolled onto his back and tilted his head far enough to watch.
The tip of her tongue showed between her red lips, as she concentrated on opening the foil covering and then slowly drew the condom out. She turned it around between her thumb and forefinger and took a deep breath that stirred the hairs that surrounded his dick. “Okay, here we go. This is a first. I’ve never…Um well I have but not…maybe not the time to talk about it.”
Dylan bit back his grin as oh so slowly Catlin began to smooth the latex over his pre-cum slicked cock.
Had anyone ever taken such care, needed so much concentration, before they were satisfied? With one last long sweep of her hands from the bulbous head to his balls she hummed deep in her throat. “Ah, now I think we can move on. So…” She tilted her head to one side. “I pass the baton to you.” She tapped his cock on each side, dropped the empty packet on his tummy and sniggered. “Arise, Sir Cock.”
Dylan smiled. He loved her in this silly carefree mood. “It already has.” He caught her her unawares as he rolled over, put her comfortably between his legs and probed the entrance to her channel with his suitably covered prick. “Now lets see if he’s worth his knighthood eh?” Gently—after all he had no idea how experienced she was or not—he slid inside her, inch by tight and heavenly inch.
Catlin clenched her inner muscles around him and he groaned as his cock tried to swell, found it couldn’t and began to pulse hard. “Sweet heaven, Cat.”
“Yeah isn’t it?” She lifted one hand to play with his hair, which now caressed the tops of her breasts as he leaned over her. “Come on, fill me harder please. I want all of you.” She moved her fingers and pinched one tiny male nipple.
Had anything better ever been said to a man who metaphorically had his eyes crossed in an effort to hold back? Dylan thrust in hard, drowned in her soft mewls and sighs and set up a rhythm that she matched.
“You won’t hurt me,” she said in between pants. “I want it all. Every last bit f… ahh fuck let me come pl…lease let…”
He reached between them, stroked her curls and unerringly homed in on her tight, quivering clit. Plucked, nipped, soothed and pinched as his love screamed and fell into the sweet abyss of sated human.
Within seconds the tingle and heat that coursed through him let him do the same. Almost.
He roared and bit back an oath. Shit and hellfire. His dick slid out of her and his wild cat snarled.
“Hell on wheels, love, I’ve heard of this but never experienced it.” His voice was guttural “It’s rare, so rare and… give me space.”
Catlin looked as if he’d slapped her. “What’s wrong? What did I do I shouldn’t?”
“You did nothing wrong it’s me. I’m gonna shift and I can do bugger all about it”. He stared down at his still hard, latex-covered cock. There was a sodding hole in the condom. “My cum touched you. I’ve got to shift and run.” The condom split and dropped to the floor. He’d have to apologize about that later. Much later. Dylan held his breath and let his body take over. God help them if she freaked.
****
The flowers arrived as she finished her last class of the following day. The Dowt school was, to all intents and purposes, a private school, with a very select band of pupils. As its school inspector ratings were exceptional, no one wondered overmuch at how difficult it seemed to be to get your child to become a pupil there.
Unless you were a Trossachs wildcat shifter of course. Then you were automatically admitted.
The young petite girl with long tawny hair that hovered by the doorway of her classroom was an ex-pupil. Catlin glanced up from the notes she was making and smiled. “Hey, Lizzie, how’s it going?”
Lizzie grinned back. “Good, I think. Well I’m sort of seeing Shuggie Russell and we’re doing well. The flower shop is doing better every month, and I've got two people helping me now. I don’t usually do deliveries but as this was for the school, I thought maybe I’d better. After all,” she gave a raucous laugh, so at odds with her tiny persona. “I didn’t know if it was come as your cat day. Er, this order came in not an hour past. It’s for you.”
She thrust over a large bouquet of mixed flowers that even to Catlin’s untrained eye must have cost a fortune. After all, winter in Scotland didn’t produce a lot of blooms. Catlin took it, and bemused, scanned the bunch for a note. She c
ouldn’t see one.
Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Oh grief, I forgot the card. Ah well, it’s from Dylan MacSween, but I’m guessing you’d know that.”
I would?
“So romantic eh?” Lizzie looked at her expectantly.
Well, yes, I’ll agree with that. But why here?
“Very,” Catlin said quietly and did her best not to react to Lizzie’s chagrined expression. She obviously expected more of a reaction. She was going to be disappointed. Ever since his impromptu shift and disappearing act she waited in vain for him to contact her. It had taken best part of the day to clear up the mess of her bedroom. Not just cum and split condom, but three vases, one lamp and a series of scuff marks on her new wardrobe and bedside table. She had to be thankful she had carpeting or the parquet would be toast.
“So when are you to going to do the deed and set the Dowt on a safe and even keel?” Lizzie asked, oblivious to Catlin’s scowl of response. “After all, you’ve hung around long enough and let’s face it, he’s not getting any younger. We’ve all been expecting it for ages.”
Had they? Pity. “He’s thirty six,” Catlin said evenly, holding on to her temper with difficulty. “Which is immaterial as whether he is thirty six or eighty six, or indeed any age in between, I have no intention of doing any deeds with him, whatever everybody expects.” Not yet, anyway, and when I do it’ll be on my terms, not the bloody council’s.
Lizzie looked aghast. “But you have to, Miss, er I mean Catlin. You’re his designated mate.” She made it sound like the Holy Grail. “You can’t not.”
Watch me.
“I don’t care if I’m his get out of jail free card,” Catlin said with barely contained ire. “No one tells me what I have to do. No one. This is my life and I will live it as I choose, not at anyone else’s dictation or whim. And you can pass that on to whoever told you to hassle me. And here. Take these with you.” She thrust the flowers at Lizzie, not without a pang, because they were lovely, but even so… “Tell the sender the addressee refused them.”
Lizzie blinked and backed toward the doorway warily as if Catlin was the shifter and was about to become a very wild cat. “Ah then er, I’ll drop the card in to you at your house anyway, shall I? He did say to make sure you got it, and I better do as he said. You know, being as he’s the highheidyin.”
Cat with the Blue Eyes (The Cats of Craig Mhor Book 1) Page 2