Like you have a chance. The white socks danced out of sight.
Indeed. What chance did he have with Calla, who apparently turned away a night of passion with somebody she didn’t hate? Still, why spurn Maya’s advances? Perhaps Calla had her fill of women, or maybe she genuinely was tired. Caleb slunk slowly toward the entranceway to her backyard for a better view of the house, noting the jagged pattern of darkened and illuminated windows as Calla presumably shut down for the night.
The last remaining light glowed on the second floor—Calla’s bedroom. With the shade rolled up, Caleb caught glimpses of shadows and skin as the woman moved about preparing for bed. He knew he should leave, but Calla’s earlier behavior concerned him. Though the two hardly communicated since his mating to Teresa, he did truly care for the woman he called friend, and at one time his lover. He sensed something about tonight had hurt her, and he couldn’t in good conscience leave until he knew she was okay.
The thick-trunked tree in the neighboring yard had branches that hovered close to Calla’s window, and from where the panther stood Caleb saw one sturdy enough to support his weight. With silent grace he leapt over the brick wall separating the yards and crawled up the tree to settle in for a covert watch. Calla, too preoccupied with her nighttime preparations, thankfully didn’t look outside.
Chin settled on his paws, Caleb exhaled roughly from his snout and let his tail curl and sway free beneath him. As he watched Calla remove her nightshirt, then her panties, he fought the urge to spring forward through the glass and pounce. When he spied what she extracted from a nightstand, he had to shift on the branch for better balance.
Lord help him if anybody found out he’d fallen from a tree thanks to an unbalancing erection.
* * * *
With the silicone dildo properly lubed, naked Calla settled on her knees on her mattress, facing the headboard. One hand grasped the top for support while the other wrapped around the rod’s base and positioned it underneath her. After a few teasing swipes of the slick head against her pussy lips, she spread her legs wide and sank down, impaling herself until nearly all eight inches disappeared inside her.
She bent her head back and closed her eyes, sighing on impact. The lube felt cool and slippery and easily guided the raised, faux-veined surface of the dildo against her channel walls. She’d worried she was too wet herself to appreciate the girth of her favorite toy, but once she settled into a bucking rhythm that pressed the shaft against her hidden sweet spots she didn’t hold further apprehensions. Soon she could set the hand holding the headboard free and use it to stimulate herself more—she pinched her aching nipples, then slid her fingers over her abdomen and settled them on her clit, rubbing furiously in circular motion.
The tingle of a pending orgasm sparked immediately, yet Calla knew this one would simmer slowly thanks to the many thoughts clouding her mind. Maya came into focus, and while any other woman with a healthy libido might have used the image of the sexy she-wolf to help along the climax, Calla associated her with a building sense of regret. Had Maya come to call weeks earlier, Calla would have leaped at the opportunity to take the shifter to bed. To think that tonight she could have passed this time with her thighs spread over Maya’s skillful tongue while the she-wolf’s fingers played with her ass…the memory of Calla’s rejection of her darkened the mood. She pumped faster on the fake cock in hopes of replacing the pain.
Why did she say no? She still found Maya attractive, and the she-wolf’s attentions had done more than boost Calla’s self-confidence over the past several years. They were never an exclusive couple, just friends with benefits who met when the urge proved too much to bear. Tonight, though, as Calla embraced Maya’s nude body and reacquainted herself with every curve and swell, an unusual emotion gripped Calla and proved too powerful to ignore.
Holding Maya, Calla sensed she’d become a betrayer, but to whom? Men in general, perhaps? The second she’d closed the glass door on Maya she ran upstairs to satisfy the ache in pussy—she needed a cock inside her, as it seemed no amount of licking or rubbing clits together would suffice. God, but she needed cock!
A real one, too. Nicely though this toy filled her, the absence of added warmth from a hard, male body kept her from tumbling over the edge into bliss more easily. Calla had to admit she hadn’t experienced such a gratifying sexual romp since…
Since…
Slowly her grinding motion halted, and her hung low, chin nearly touching her breastbone.
Caleb.
Damn him.
Chapter Four
When Calla stopped grinding against her mattress and drooped from presumed exhaustion, Caleb figured the peak had passed…or perhaps eluded her. She didn’t appear satisfied, not that it surprised him. Surely even a romp with the disagreeable Maya seemed preferable to a solo flight with silicone. Caleb would liked to have offered Calla some relief and a better chance at release, but knew if she caught him spying on her that he greatly risked any chance at reconciliation.
Eventually a lamp switched off and her room faded into darkness. The panther stretched his front paws before him and let out a quiet sigh, mentally willing away his arousal. It wouldn’t do to trot home with an aching feline erection bobbing between his hind legs, much less try to descend from the tree without making noise.
Satisfied he’d heard and seen enough of Calla for one night, he leaped from the branch and landed gracefully in the sand several feet from her brick wall. Time to head home to bed, he decided, yet the grand leap into a swift run he’d hoped to achieve barely sent him inches from his starting point. The show Calla had unwittingly put on for him left him more aroused than he realized.
With a loud grunt, he skulked back to the wall and curled down onto the sand, feeling the cool of the brick against his long, lean back. His sharpened feline vision detected no other beings—human or were—roaming along the surf, so he quietly shifted back into human form. Naked and knees raised, he looked down at the lengthened and erect organ bobbing against his abdomen.
Caleb closed his eyes, imagining for a moment his beloved Teresa with her long, dark hair and brown nipples like the sweetest chocolate, straddled across his hips to take in his full length. Though he missed her daily, the pain of her absence managed to fade over time. Those aware of the various were-species in existence might assume Caleb and others like him possessed a stronger genetic makeup, yet shifters also suffered the same risk of illness as humans. Some, like Caleb, benefitted from a predisposition toward a sound immune system, but others like Teresa proved easily vulnerable. She didn’t live a year following her diagnosis, and no amount of were-panther power could stop death.
Caleb’s fingers drifted down to his sac to massage away the ache, then curled around the base of his cock and slowly ascended to the crown. Up and down he stroked in gentle rhythm with a dry hand, which seemed to enhance his irritation. Since Teresa, he hadn’t known the pleasure of making love with another woman, and despite constant thoughts of his late wife he found the time played tricks on his memory. As he sat just outside of Calla’s home, tugging his cock toward release, he pinched his face in a poor attempt to call up a clearer vision of Teresa riding him.
This isn’t working. He should just shift back, tear home as fast as possible, and jump into a cold shower. Let Aunt Sheila yell at him for tracking sandy paws through the house, so long as she had a bag from Nunzio’s waiting for him on the kitchen counter.
He made to lean forward to better shift into a running position, but Teresa’s lovely visage faded away entirely, replaced by the memory of Maya and Calla kissing. The sight had aroused him earlier, perhaps it could help finish. Caleb sighed at the thought. Typically the girl-on-girl thing did little to stimulate him, but as the vision intensified then altered to suit his desires he leaned back against the brick and stroked his cock with renewed vigor.
This time, he pictured Calla naked and writhing, just as she had on her bed earlier, only she now rode him. Caleb conjured the visual as a voyeur watching himsel
f, mentally directing his every move. In this fantasy, his hands first cupped her knees as she bore them into her mattress, then slid up her thighs and ribcage to rest on her firm breasts. She writhed around him and tightened her channel, thrusting her upper body and cooing with each pinch of her nipples.
What sent him finally over the edge, though, was the clear view of Calla’s face, and her serene satisfaction. He’d always thought her lovely with her wavy blond hair and sharp green eyes. That this conjured dream-Calla smiled at him with such longing and love led him to believe, even for the brief moment as he silently came, that he might win her just yet.
Of course, he had to want to win her. He didn’t want to marry again. He’d rather leave mating to the younger ones and rely on their prowess to repopulate the species.
Spent and sated, Caleb opened his eyes and waited for his breathing to slow before shifting back to panther form. That completed, his hind paw kicked sand over the telltale puddle of his essence. He didn’t expect Calla to find it, but surely a passing shifter might sniff him out and make much of it later.
Home, he told himself firmly. He’d go home, shower, and eat. Then he’d sleep away any fanciful notions of winning over Calla Savitch as his own.
Tomorrow, maybe he’d get a haircut.
Chapter Five
“What fresh hell is this?”
Little Melina Wilkins, to whom Calla had given her first haircut six years ago, twisted away from the comb to frown at her with disapproval. “Miss Savitch, that wasn’t a nice word,” she scolded.
“I know, sweetie, I’m sorry. Forgot where I was,” Calla said, but kept her gaze fixed on the salon entrance. Perfect timing as decreed by some prankster deity—Maya Winston opened the door just as Trisha Houlihan quick-stepped up the walk and flagged her down.
Calla relaxed. Okay, she could deal with this. She knew that Trisha, unlike others in her extended family, considered the Winston/Houlihan feud ridiculous. So long as Trisha hadn’t come with her—
“Hey, Caleb.”
Cousin.
Shit.
When did Caleb come back to Bliss? Furthermore, why come here? Caleb hadn’t set foot in Shear Bliss in years, not since Calla’s mother still owned the salon.
The last time he came, he stopped by to break the news to her of his mating with Teresa.
“Sh—” Calla, turning back to the little girl in her chair, stopped the spoken expletive in time, and stretched the syllable a few seconds before pitching the save. “Sh…shall I put a few bows in this time, Deb?” she called to Melina’s mother, who waited in the small lobby at the front of the salon.
Deb, of course, didn’t hear her. Like any other red-blooded woman in Bliss, New Jersey would, she fixed an appreciative eye on Caleb in his tight jeans and skin-hugging black tee. Only Caleb turned to the young mother with nothing more than a kind nod in her direction. Those eyes smoldered with desire only when he turned to silently greet Calla.
“You know, I think we’re done here, sweetie.” Calla ducked his gaze, and quickly finished with Melina. Once released from the bib, the little girl hopped from the chair without concern for stray clipped hairs and dashed straight for the large treasure box of toys Calla kept for well-behaved child customers.
Yes, he’s still cooler than the proverbial cucumber, Calla noted as he quietly surveyed the salon. His gaze seemed to pan the breadth of the shotgun-style hair studio, casually studying the hairstyle posters and displays of high-end hair care products she seldom managed to sell. When he finally glanced her way again, his cousin and Maya were jockeying for her attention.
“Hey, Calla, I know Mom set up an appointment for me right now, but I don’t mind waiting while you do Maya first,” the younger one had said while Calla focused on how Caleb turned slowly in place for an empty chair. Given the dearth of waiting customers, he had his pick, and little Melina’s mother might have succeeded at getting him to park next to her had not the girl whined to leave.
“Mom,” she punctuated the multiple-syllabic call with a stamped foot. “You said we could get ice cream.” The girl shook a fist, now decorated with a sparkling stretch bracelet taken from the treasure chest.
Caleb chuckled and smiled down at her. “I swear, girl, you are getting to look more like your mom every day. So pretty. Hey, I’ll see you both at the dance, right?”
That seemed to mollify Deb, and after Mom paid the bill the two said their goodbyes. Trisha pulled up the rolling desk chair from behind the front counter to sit near Maya, who planted herself in the raised barber’s chair.
“Don’t you want to wait for me to sweep up first?” She turned toward her new customers, hoping that the distance from Caleb might ease the pounding in her chest.
“Why?” Maya waved her off. “You’re only going to do it again when you’re done with me. This shouldn’t take long, anyway. Just trim the bangs and take an inch off the length.”
Trisha frowned. “Aw, no updo this year?”
“Honey, there’s no reason for me to go all out anymore. My matchmaking days are long behind me, but I do appreciate you letting me cut in line. Got a lot to do as it is.”
Calla tightened a fresh bib around Maya’s neck, earning a warning grunt in return. She couldn’t decide if the woman’s remark served to needle her or not, but looking at Trisha she realized the younger woman didn’t appear fazed.
Quickly checking the lobby once more, she saw Caleb had settled down to read an entertainment magazine, apparently oblivious to their conversation.
Right. Calla couldn’t feel secure in divulging anything if Caleb’s sharp cat hearing might pick up a few words he would interpret on his own. So she worked quietly, adding the occasional “uh-huh” and “yeah” while Maya and Trisha gossiped about their small town and the more interesting inhabitants worthy of gab. Before long the woman traded places and Maya lingered while Calla worked her magic to give Trisha a model-worthy style.
When the topic steered toward Trisha’s future plans, though, Calla couldn’t help but detect how the younger girl faltered and shrugged off any affirmations about college. “I know it’s getting down to the wire,” Trisha said, “but I’m thinking I can talk Mom into letting me go to Europe first. I really want to travel, live a bit on my own before I get tied down to something.”
Tied down to an arranged marriage, Calla knew, but she kept her mouth shut. Nonetheless, the insinuation hung in the air, scented by the mist from Calla’s pump bottle of hairspray as she finished.
She spun the chair around so Trisha could see her reflection. “Okay, chica. What do you think?”
“I love it! Thanks.” Trisha gingerly bobbed the swaying top knot and twitched to allow the cascading curls covering her ears to swing. “I just hope it holds up through the rest of the day.”
“You need some hairspray? I have an extra hold formula that will—”
Maya broke in, “What? No, she doesn’t need any shellacking. You’ll be fine, Trisha.” Waving the young woman out of the chair, Maya then tucked her purse underneath her arm and leered at Calla. “We’ll see you at the big party, then?”
Maya’s proximity discomforted Calla, but if the lady wolf hoped for a reaction to confirm any sexual attraction, Calla knew she disappointed her. Beautiful though Maya looked, Calla felt nothing anymore. “Still thinking about it,” Calla finally answered with a shrug. “Depends on how business goes today.”
“Yeah, I imagine the eight PM crush for cuts and curlers is unbearable. You really need to get another stylist in here to handle it with you.” Maya snorted, her gaze flicking up and down Calla’s height. “Okay,” she said to Trisha, “if you still want to borrow my earrings you can stop by my place on the way over. Just call first so I’ll know when to be home.”
“Thanks.”
Both women paid with generous tips, and Calla saw them away with mild pleasantries. Trisha had walked to the door in front of Maya, waiting for her cousin. “Caleb?” she called.
Caleb, still sitting,
closed the magazine and tossed it aside. “What?” he asked, stretching so that the hem of his t-shirt popped out from his jeans waistband.
Trisha huffed. “I’m leaving, duh. You said you needed to go to Trader Joe’s?”
“Oh, yeah.” Only Caleb looked at Calla the whole time he talked. “Actually, why don’t you go on ahead with your stuff,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his roughened chin. “I’m thinking I need a makeover.”
Chapter Six
Totally worth it to see the looks on Calla’s and Maya’s faces.
The wolf shifter only cast a curious yet skeptical smile at Caleb before leaving the salon with a healthy guffaw. He suspected Calla rightly interpreted Maya’s mirth—that the woman would enjoy a hearty laugh at the thought of Calla awkwardly maneuvering through a haircut and shave for a former beau.
Calla, meanwhile, froze in place and looked back at him with wide, frightened doe eyes. His inner cat purred with a strengthening urge to pounce and cover her body with his own, but Shear Bliss was hardly the place to execute a successful, explicit seduction. He didn’t know who else had a hair appointment today who might witness a private moment.
Yes, a seduction. Seeing her last night as she pleasured herself had caused dormant feelings to resurface, and had rendered him unable to sleep last night. It didn’t matter to him that her DNA proved compatible with his for the perpetuation of the panther race, he wanted Calla now…period. He realized, too, he may need to ease his way carefully back into her good graces.
First, as a returning customer and friend. Later, hopefully, as a lover.
He prayed, though, Calla wouldn’t take the opportunity to go all Sweeney Todd on him.
She appeared to recover, and shook her head to return to normal. “Sure, I’m free right now,” she said, and reached for a white towel which she bunched tightly in her hands. “If you’ll give me a few minutes I’d like to sweep up my area…”
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