by Lexy Timms
She handed it to Taylor, who took a sniff.
Is that what catnip is like? I’ve always wanted to try catnip...
Taylor didn’t need the cat to finish the thought. It wasn’t relaxing—it was hypnotic and brought back the erection that he’d lost to morning ritual. In fact, it not only brought him back to life but it made his erection throb. “This is formulated to the cat...” he murmured, his voice thick. He was having difficulty forming words “...to the inner cat... it’s kind of an aphrodisiac...”
“I’ll say.” Angelica was looking pointedly at his loins. Without giving himself the time to consider the consequences fully, he upended the box into the tub and the resulting aroma filled the bathroom instantly.
Oh, yeah, that was good.
For her, too, apparently. An instant later she was there in his arms, arms and legs wrapped around him, her mouth devouring his in a series of passionate kisses that left him gasping for air.
He picked her up and stepped into the tub with her. She giggled as he settled her between his legs. She raised herself up a little to allow him to slide under her to a more comfortable position, and then slowly settled on his hardness, allowing him to fill her as she forced herself down around him, with no preamble, no foreplay at all.
He growled and bit her ear. She screamed, a sound half-animal in passion as she rose and fell on him, maybe a little carefully at first. Then with more confidence as the water echoed the sounds of their love, lapping at the rim of the tub and sending cascades of water over the edge.
He reached from behind, liking the way she was turned away from him, as it allowed him to hold her breasts, soapy thumbs rubbing her nipples and teasing her breasts. She clamped down on him, pulling him further inside her, milking his hardness.
He groaned and ran his hands down her slick flesh, sitting up to reach between her legs and caress her as he slid in and out of her warmth. Her passion ignited his and he felt himself near the edge.
She rocked back in his grasp and he felt the first wave of her orgasm hit. It pulsed against him and triggered his own. His release was nearly blinding, intense and severe. It tore through him and poured out into her and he shuddered in the throes of it, his legs shaking and his eyes clamped shut.
He fell back against the tub and she collapsed on top of him, shuddering with him as the aftershocks rolled through her again and again.
“Whatever that is...” He swallowed, still stunned by the violence of their passion and the speed with which the whole thing was over. He tried to clear his throat and began again. “Whatever that is, I want some to go...”
She nodded, breathing heavily against him. Her could feel the thunder of her heart beneath his palm. She felt down between her legs and whispered in awed wonder, “You’re staying hard.”
Painfully so. “Yeah.”
She nodded and took a deep breath, twisting to look him in the eye. “Well, by all means, let’s not waste it...”
“I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT was,” Angelica said as they collapsed on the bed, still dripping but too tired to care enough to towel off, “but I really liked it.”
Taylor pulled her close, but his gaze was distant as he turned things over in his mind. Angelica waited him out, recognizing his need to think things through his way. Besides, being curled next to him with her head on his shoulder was pleasant enough by itself, especially with his skin still tainted with the soft scent of the bath.
Delightful. She was practically purring.
Maybe he was, too. He certainly seemed content as he spoke, one hand making lazy circles around her breast. “So,” he paused to kiss the top of her head as he shifted her a little until her head was just there, in that hollow of his shoulder that seemed to have been created to cradle her head just so. “An evil scientist hacked up some cooked pheromones and suddenly I have a skull full of cat, and now these elders have cobbled some feline sex smell? How much of a cat is in their nose?”
It was a good question, and one she’d been wondering for some time now. “I don’t know, I didn’t really study veterinary medicine at all. I tried to search out some articles on cats and pheromones after that mess in Africa, but we’ve been so busy I haven’t really had time to go all that deeply into them. I think it’s probably quite a bit.”
“That much I could tell without articles,” he chuckled.
“But smelling cancer, that’s a new one,” she said, remembering the woman in the diner and hoping that she’d gone to her doctor like she’d advised her to. “Is that something you could always do?”
“Not directly.” He pulled her closer, not that it was possible, but she recognized the gesture for what it was, the need to feel as intimate and as entwined as the sheets that tangled around their still damp bodies. Under the heat of the day the windows were open, and the ceiling fan rotated with infinite slowness over their naked forms. “The first time it happened, it was with a horse. Horses don’t much like large predatory animals—they’re a good source of protein, but if you introduce the cat while the horse is young they do eventually get used to it, which is why you saw some horses out at my parents’ farm. Anyway, there was a kid, too young to change yet that I was watching her for her parents. She wanted to go riding and I loped along beside her, or at least I said I would and I was told that I did. But when I switched back I knew that horse was sick. I didn’t even think about it, like it was a mare, it had four legs and cancer, and it never occurred to me that I shouldn’t know that. So when the cat smells it the result, not the smell, stays in the memory.”
“And now? Now that you’re connected?”
“Now I smelled it, too. It took me a minute to figure out.” He paused and shrugged. “And then he just told me,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“You’re talking to him now, aren’t you?” She perked up and looked at him. He nodded. “Was he present while we...” She gestured to his naked body.
Taylor shrugged. “It’s his body, too. And you’re his mate, too.”
She glanced up sharply. He’d mentioned that once before, but things had been so hectic then that she’d never really thought through the ramifications. “I’m what?” she asked, wanting clarification more than anything.
“Remember? You’re his mate. He decided that before we did. In the Amazon. He decided that you were his mate.”
Which really didn’t tell her anything new at all. “I...I’m still not sure how to take that.”
He laughed. “It’s a compliment. Remember I said that often we marry non-shifters? If the inner cat...” his eyes took on that distant look for a split second he got when talking to the cat, “if the cat who is inner while in human form,” he continued patiently, “doesn’t like the spouse, it can be a problem.”
“So... if...if two shifters marry do the cats... have sex?”
Taylor laughed. “Sorry, it wasn’t the question that made me laugh, it was the loud, resounding YES that echoed in my head just now.” He nodded slowly. “Yes, but it has to be done in a very controlled manner.”
Her eyes widened. This was something she hadn’t considered before. “What do you mean?”
“When a woman gets pregnant, there’s a point where her body is a host to the baby and it’s not able to be shoved aside with the organs and bones. No shifter changes during the last trimester of pregnancy. Besides, we don’t know what would happen to the child if she did.”
“And if she happens to get pregnant as a cat?”
“Same problem, with a bit of a complication.”
“What ‘complication’?”
“Six to eight children at once.”
Angelica gasped and sat up. “Holy...” She looked down at herself and had this insane urge to clean herself out and fast. Taylor smiled and pulled her down again. “It’s only if you mate as a cat. We haven’t.”
Still, their lack of birth control took on much higher proportions. Maybe rather than trusting birth control pills like she had been, she needed to consider other options as well. Just as a precaution. For
now.
But what about someday? Do I want children with Taylor? She’d never seriously considered the question before. It wasn’t a terrible idea. Just something she wasn’t ready for.
“Sorry, just panicked a little.” She lay back on him and sighed. “Taylor, can I ask you about—”
Unfortunately, their conversation was cut short by a polite knock on the door. “Please join us for lunch.”
The timing was terrible, but what could she say? “We’ll be right there. Thank you!” she called to the door, and twisted in his arms to kiss his pectoral. For a long moment she gazed into his eyes, seeing the disappointment mirrored there that was fast crowding out lust. Time to rejoin the world after all. She sat up and looked for her bag.
“Remember the nice man said he would take our bags for us?” Taylor asked, sitting up on the edge of the bed. “He never said where he would take them. They’re not here.”
Angelica stared at the floor, as though the bags would materialize somehow if she just looked at it hard enough. “What about the clothes we were wearing?”
“Apparently them, too. We were both so exhausted from the trip...” He must have seen her growing panic for he stopped talking and shook his head. “No, I undressed you. I undressed us both. When we went to sleep it was under the sheet. Someone came in here, took our clothes, and slipped out again. In complete darkness.”
“So we’re supposed to go to lunch naked?” Angelica asked, with a pained glance down at herself. While she had always been fairly comfortable in her own skin, this was certainly taking things to a different level. She stared him down, hands on her hips. “I parade you out there like that and every female under 80 is going to chase you down.”
“What about the ones over 80?”
“They have walkers, so no chance of catching you,” she said, throwing her hands in the air.
“There’s a dresser,” Taylor said, rising from the bed. He pulled open a drawer and removed a white bundle that looked soft. He shook it out. It was a cross between a karate gi and bathrobe. The pants were elastic at the waist and loose. If the person wearing them changed it would stretch as needed, and the durable material would stand up to anything but a direct assault from claws.
The top was a wrap-around with a belt that adjusted, and a quick-release on the belt to free it if the wearer shifted. She shook it out, somewhat dubious, but thought it might cover her modestly enough. The fabric was thin and porous enough to handle the heat, and most of all they were clean.
He took the shirt from her and held it against himself. His was also five sizes too small.
“I guess I’ll have to tie it around my waist,” he said, taking the sleeves and holding the material outstretched. “What do you think, front or back?” He demonstrated each possibility, each one worse than the last.
Angelica laughed despite herself and slid into the pants. “I think these are mine, doofus. Check that other drawer.”
“‘Doofus’? Is that like ‘Honey’? Or ‘Sweetheart’? I’m not sure I like it.” He produced a duplicate set of clothing and shook them out.
“Taylor,” Angelica said slowly as she tied the shirt on and twisted to see herself in the mirror. “They knew we were coming... that was weird enough. But how did they know our sizes?”
Taylor stopped with one leg in the pants. His eyes unfocused for a moment. “I think the cat just got chills.”
“I don’t know,” she said, tightening the belt around the front and smoothing the fabric with a hand that shook just the littlest bit. “Something that can scare a tiger? Maybe we need to be on our guard here.”
Taylor finished dressing. “At this point,” he confessed, “I don’t even know where we are in relation to Kathmandu, to the airport—to the rest of the world. I think that whatever they intend they’re going to do no matter what we do.”
She bit her lip and looked at him. “Was coming here a good idea?”
He took her in his arms and leaned her into his chest. “If what my mother said was true, even partly, then getting you here was and is worth all of this.”
“Because I represent the survival of the species,” she said. Her laugh was a little rueful, and maybe even a little hurt.
He held her at arm’s length and looked into her eyes. “No. Because you represent the survival of my soul.”
It was when he said things like that that she felt her insides melt, just like all those sappy heroines did in those torrid romance novels she used to devour on the sly. She opened her mouth to say something, though she knew full well that she’d never be able to come up with something half so poetic or even romantic, when she was saved by an interruption of a very hungry stomach making its needs known. So loud was the gurgle that erupted from her midsection that she snapped her mouth shut and felt the heat of a royal blush come on.
Taylor laughed and offered her his arm. “Let’s go to lunch,” he said, and just like that the moment was past. But there was a closeness between them, a comradery, that had been missing for far too long.
And so it was that she leaned on the strong muscular arm, and for the first time in forever felt cozy and protected. It was a lovely feeling even if it wasn’t politically correct.
Maybe she was beyond political correctness for a little while.
Chapter 15
Angelica had lost track of time. She knew it was the middle of the day where they were. One, because they’d been told to join for lunch. Two, the sun beat down on them in the clearing. Around them the jungle glowed with an effervescent light that came down diffused through leaf and tree, but somehow still managed to cast a bright glow over everything. The day was warm, but it wasn’t with the oppressive dense heat of the Amazon, or the sultry heat of Africa. This was more austere, if that was the right word. Here was an indifferent heat, one that wasn’t trying to kill or disable. The heat here was indifferent, as if it didn’t care about men one way or another.
As far as jungle, they certainly had that. Angelica had always pictured Nepal, when she’d pictured it at all, as being arid and windswept. Maybe with high mountain peaks, with Sherpas wearing thick parkas as they guided tourists up Everest. This place, though, was obviously somewhere in the lower elevations. Here the jungle ran rampant, covering everything. Vines and grasses and shoots tangled in every direction, a swath of bright emerald green that felt bright and garish.
Taylor’s smile was beatific. Reverent, in silent awe, as he looked around and took one deep breath after another as though he couldn’t take in enough of it.
“Wow,” he said, when he could speak. “This is beautiful.”
Angelica said nothing. She didn’t see what left him choked up and emotional. To her it wasn’t bad exactly, just not right. There was something that insisted that the place didn’t look like a proper jungle. Here the trees grew with twisted roots and hollow trunks, and foxes ran between the boughs and chittered as they turned to look at the visitors. Here jungle birds sang different songs than in Africa or South America. This was an unfamiliar jungle and would take getting used to.
It felt very far from home.
Angelica screwed a smile on her face as she belatedly realized that her lack of reaction had been duly noted. There was a small crowd of people, all dressed like her, all bearing the unmistakable Viking heritage that Taylor wore: tall and proud, with fair hair and sun-browned skin. One of the milling crowd was the man who had driven them to the compound from the airport. He waved cheerfully when she met his eyes across the clearing.
She squeezed Taylor’s arm in a desperate attempt to not be separated and continued on to the swelling number of people gathering under the open pavilion. All of them were dressed the same as they were, clothing easy to slip out of if they shifted.
It was another strange feeling, the sense that she was surrounded by big cats, cautious predators waiting for a misstep, something to prove that she didn’t belong there.
The fear and suspicion seemed only to plague her mind. When their host shouted
it was with welcome, a gregarious smile and wave accompanying his words. “Welcome, Taylor! Welcome, Angelica! Please, come join us!”
The smiling faces and quizzical looks went a long way to soothe Angelica’s upset stomach. They seemed welcoming, even encouraging.
Only the white clothing, the shout and wave, were all too reminiscent of Mr. Roarke on that old TV show she used to watch on cable when she was a kid. The visitors to Fantasy Island never fared very well initially, and Mr. Roarke wasn’t always quite sincere.
So help me, if anyone shouts, ‘de plane de plane’ I’m out of here.
“How...how did you know to come get us at the airport?” Taylor asked, and for a moment Angelica was disconcerted, the question coming hard on the heels of her own morbid thoughts. “And please don’t say, ‘Wait for the elders’—I’m sure they wouldn’t mind giving out that much information.”
Taylor’s question was careful. He was being the agent again, digging for information. Maybe he didn’t quite trust the people here either. Angelica moved a little closer to him, somewhat reassured that maybe she wasn’t the only one on edge.
But their host shook his head. “Actually, they asked me to give you some updates. For example, all members of your ambush are accounted for, and are safely in Canada.”
“Ambush?” Angelica felt her face go pale.
“A pride of lions, a murder of crows, an ambush of tigers,” Taylor explained with a soft chuckle. “I’d forgotten you likely hadn’t heard that before. Most haven’t.”
“That’s the problem with English,” their guide said with a twinkle in his eye. “Even the English don’t speak it.”
Fine, joke at her expense. At any rate, they knew Taylor’s family was safe. She glanced at him, seeing that his jaw had visibly relaxed. He’d been carrying that tension for too long now.
“The entire town got away?” she asked the guide, for the first time realizing that she couldn’t remember having heard his name. One more frustrating aspect to this day, to this conversation, to being in a place where once again she didn’t know the rules.