Cupid Cats

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Cupid Cats Page 27

by Katie MacAlister


  She clapped a hand over his mouth. “You are so wasteful!”

  “Mm-mm.” He shook his head and ran his tongue over her palm, which reminded her of where else she’d like to feel that tongue. His voice was muffled by her hand pressing against his mouth, but she was able to understand the single word of explanation he offered—priorities. After uttering that single word, he commenced licking her hand again.

  She was melting fast and needed a quick compromise. “We’ll let everything soak.” And speaking of soaked, that described her underwear, which meant for the second time in one night she’d have to put on a fresh pair.

  She removed her damp hand, which tingled where he’d been circling it with his tongue. “Do we have a deal?”

  “You bet.” Releasing her, he turned and ran water in the sink. “Feel free to go upstairs and rummage around in my shaving kit. Not that I’m impatient or anything.”

  Laughing, she hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She hadn’t felt this carefree with a man since . . . Come to think of it, she’d never felt this carefree. There was something to be said for hiding away from the world for a week.

  The contents of Jon’s shaving kit lay scattered over the bathroom floor, evidence of Darwin’s little stunt. The scent of aftershave hung in the air, but she found the bottle—an expensive label, of course—lying on the floor unbroken. Scooping everything back into the zippered case, she set it on the counter, plucked out a condom, and turned to find Jon leaning in the bathroom doorway.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Only one? Is that your opinion of my sexual stamina?”

  Oh, baby. She tried to sound as nonchalant as he did, but still her words came out sounding breathy and excited. “I thought you’d be tired. It’s been a long day.”

  “Yes, but we have a long night ahead of us. Bring a handful.”

  “A handful? Are you serious?”

  “No, but at least bring two.” He winked at her. “Just in case.”

  She grabbed another foil packet. When she looked up, Jon was holding out his hand.

  “Come play,” he murmured. When she put her hand in his, he interlaced their fingers and paused to gaze into her eyes. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For putting aside whatever plans you had for this week so that we could . . . be together like this.”

  She smiled. “You’re welcome. So far it’s been pure torture.”

  “Then come into my bedroom.” He tugged on her hand. “I want to torture you some more.”

  “Not so fast.” She put up a token resistance.

  He frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  “Only that you’re a bossy sort of guy who likes to be in charge all the time. I realize you’re an Oscar nominee and all, but your reign is over. It’s my turn to torture you.”

  His gaze heated. “Yeah?”

  She drew close enough to stroke him through his shorts. “Yeah.”

  “Mm.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “I suppose you’re going to make me beg for mercy.”

  She cupped his family jewels. “That’s the idea.”

  “Then let’s get this party started.”

  As they walked into his darkened bedroom, she wondered if he’d had lovers who were more accomplished at this than she was. But within moments she had him where she wanted him, naked and lying on his back on the bed. At that point she forgot to worry about other women. This was one hell of a man, and she planned to relish every minute of making him squirm with desire.

  She stripped off her own clothes so she could use her breasts and thighs to tease him even more. But mostly she used her mouth, and she measured her success by the volume of his moans and his increasingly rapid breathing.

  Touching him was like running her hands over a living sculpture. No body double for this guy. He was pure sensual delight from head to toe and in the middle—especially in the middle. When she availed herself of the wonders centered there, his muscles tensed.

  He spoke through clenched teeth. “If you keep that up, we won’t need any of those little raincoats.”

  She eased up on her ministrations. “Your choice, big boy.”

  “Much as I love this . . .” He took a shaky breath. “I love it even more when I’m . . . when we’re . . .”

  Leaning forward, she whispered a very graphic Anglo-Saxon word in his ear.

  “Uh-huh. That.”

  Talking dirty was a new adventure for her, and she discovered it packed a wallop. One explicit suggestion, and she was ready to mount up and ride. “Give me a sec.”

  She’d left the condoms strategically placed on the bedside table, and she grabbed a crinkly packet. Although she’d never tackled this chore, necessity proved to be the mother of invention. She was amazingly quick, and Jon seemed touchingly grateful.

  As she straddled him and braced her arms against his impressive shoulders, he bracketed her waist with both hands.

  “I want you so much it hurts. Come to me, Kate.” Urging her down, he groaned with pleasure. “That’s . . . perfect.”

  “Well said.” A moonbeam spilling through the window was all the light they had, but it was enough for her to see the glitter of desire in his eyes. He might have bedded countless women more polished than she, but at this very moment, she was the one he wanted.

  As for her, this ultimate connection felt like coming home. She didn’t plan to analyze that sensation too closely, but she’d be hard-pressed to remember a time when sex had felt this good, this right.

  Being in charge meant she could set the pace, so she started out slow, savoring every motion as she lifted her hips and eased them back down.

  He cradled her breasts in both hands. “Lean over,” he murmured.

  She complied, and he drew her nipple into his mouth. Oh, this was good. This was very, very . . . Her orgasm took her completely by surprise. One moment she was riding him gently, and the next she was flying off into space, propelled by a climax that whirled through her.

  Jon urged her on until a second climax hovered near. She reached it at the same instant Jon arched upward, his body quivering in reaction. She hung on for dear life, gripping his shoulders as their combined tremors shook her to the core of her being. Every cell in her body seemed to be vibrating with joy.

  At last she slumped forward, boneless with pleasure. “Oh, Jon.”

  “I’m here.” He held her close. “I’m here, Kate.”

  The thought warmed her for many long minutes, but as her euphoria faded, a thought she didn’t want to have nudged its way in and shoved aside her bubble of happiness. He was here now, but a week from now he’d be gone.

  Even though the second condom never came into play, Jon woke up in a fantastic mood. He was a little disappointed that Kate wasn’t still in bed with him, but he couldn’t blame her. He’d slept in, exhausted from weeks of hard work topped off with amazing sex.

  Once his feet hit the floor, he was wide-awake and ready to spend the day with Kate. He smelled coffee brewing, so she might not be quite as helpless in the kitchen as she pretended. He could hardly wait to see her, to share a cup of coffee with her, to coax her back to bed.

  He took the shortest shower in history and was lucky he didn’t nick himself shaving because he was more interested in speed than accuracy. The week that had once seemed like a big chunk of time was shrinking rapidly in his mind. He didn’t want to waste a minute on routine chores when he could be with Kate instead.

  Wearing shorts and a T-shirt but dispensing with shoes, he headed downstairs toward the kitchen. He heard water running, so he could guess what she was up to. He’d bet good money she was scrubbing the damned skillet.

  Her back was to him, giving him an enticing view of soft gray exercise shorts that hugged her rear and a midriff-skimming T-shirt in baby blue. Her hair was loose and slightly damp, as if she’d just washed it, and she was also barefoot.

  Darwin crouched at his food bowl, munching away, but Jon didn’t waste time focusing on the cat. He
was all about Kate. The scrubbing motion made her bottom wiggle, which was not a motion designed to help him keep his cool. He wanted her desperately, but the skillet, if it was to be scrubbed, was his job.

  He most definitely didn’t want to squander potential Kate time cleaning a skillet. “You do not have to do that.” Marching into the kitchen, he pulled the skillet out of her hands so fast that water slopped onto the counter and the kitchen floor.

  “Jon, wait!”

  He wasn’t about to wait. Storming out of the kitchen door, he galloped down the steps, dripping soapy water the whole way. The Hummingbird Inn had its own private Dumpster in the back of the lot, and he made for it. His feet slid on the dew-slick grass Maggie had carefully cultivated in the backyard.

  “You agreed we’d put it in to soak!” She charged after him. “That meant you were willing to try and save it!”

  “I had a moment of insanity brought on by raging lust.” Lifting the black lid of the Dumpster, he threw the offending skillet inside where it clattered against the metal interior.

  “I can’t believe you did that.”

  He turned to find her standing in the grass of the backyard, her arms crossed under her breasts, her expression stormy.

  He waggled a finger at her. “Don’t you dare go Dumpster diving to get it when I’m not looking. Don’t you dare.”

  “You are not the boss of me, Jon Ramsey. You may have women everywhere falling at your feet, but you are not the boss of me.”

  “Women don’t fall at my feet. They grab at my clothes”—he grinned—“which you must admit you have done.”

  She lifted her chin. “Maybe I have, but that doesn’t give you dominion over me or over Maggie’s skillet.”

  He didn’t think she’d be flattered if he told her she looked exactly like her six-year-old self taking a stand against taunts on the playground. The other kids had heard their parents talking about the Archers making scenes in public and they were only parroting what they’d heard, but Kate had obviously been wounded by it.

  She hadn’t cowered, though. She’d met their jeers with the same defiance he saw now. He’d waded in to help her, which was when he’d decided that someday they would get married. It had made sense to his first-grade self.

  “All right,” he said. “Then let me, as a valued guest of the Hummingbird Inn, ask you to leave that skillet where it belongs in the Dumpster.”

  “I almost had it cleaned up.”

  “I saw plenty of black goop when I sent it to its final reward. Don’t turn this into a battle of wills, Kate. It’s a skillet.”

  “Maggie’s favorite skillet.”

  He wondered how such a stubborn female could look so appealing, but as she stood in the dew-soaked grass of the backyard, she reminded him of a nymph out of some fairy tale. “You don’t know it was her favorite.”

  “I’m sure she told me so.”

  “I’m sure she didn’t. You’re pulling that tidbit of information right out of your cute little—by the way, did you mean to let Darwin out?” He saw the cat poised on the back stoop, observing the proceedings.

  She spun around. “He’s out? Omigod, he’s out.”

  “Don’t panic. Stay calm.”

  “But I promised Esmeralda he wouldn’t ever get out unless he was wearing his leash, and now he’s out. It’s not safe for a cat outside, especially here where there are coyotes and snakes. That back screen doesn’t shut tight. He must have nudged it open.”

  “He’s only on the back stoop.” Jon crept forward. “He’s . . . Whoops, now he’s headed down the steps.”

  “I’ll get him.” Her bare feet slipped on the wet grass and she went down. “Don’t let him get past you!”

  Easier said than done. Jon had never tried to outguess a cat. Jon went left; the cat went right, bounding through the grass in obvious delight. Jon circled warily, keeping Darwin in sight as the cat discovered a grasshopper and went leaping after it.

  Kate got to her feet, her gaze fixed on the cat as she wiped bits of grass from her shirt. “Okay, Jon, if you can keep him from going off into the woods, I’ll make sure he doesn’t head out front.”

  “Right.” Jon went into a baseball player’s crouch. “We can do this.”

  “He’s only one little cat.” Kate edged slowly up behind Darwin as Jon moved in closer.

  The grasshopper did its part. Darwin seemed fascinated by the hopping insect and hunkered down in the grass, ready to pounce.

  “We have to decide who’s going to get him,” Jon said.

  “I will.” Kate flexed her fingers.

  “Then I’ll be backup in case you miss.”

  “Good plan. Okay, on three. One, two, three.” Kate made a grab for the cat, but Darwin slipped easily out of her grasp.

  Jon had one second to make a dive for him. He got a handful of cat and held on. “Kate!”

  A second later Kate wrapped both hands around the squirming body. “Got him.”

  “You’re sure?” Jon had either a leg or the tail. Tail. It wasn’t the most humane place to hold on, but he wasn’t letting go until he knew for certain Kate had control of the cat.

  “I’m sure. Thanks, Jon.” She sat back on her haunches and held Darwin in her arms. The cat squirmed and protested, but she started scratching under his chin and eventually he settled down.

  Jon watched her caress the cat and was jealous as hell. He wanted to be petted like that, although he’d prefer she use that caress on a different area of his body.

  He plopped down on the grass, not caring if it soaked his shorts, just content to look at her. “You’re welcome.”

  “I probably shouldn’t have adopted this cat right now.”

  “So why did you?”

  “Esmeralda’s one hell of a saleswoman. She made me think if I didn’t take Darwin immediately, I might never see him again.”

  “Look, I’m not saying he isn’t appealing with his blue eyes, and his fur is really soft, but . . .” He shrugged. “I mean, there are a lot of cats out there. You wouldn’t have had any trouble finding another one.”

  She continued to rub behind Darwin’s ears, and his purr grew louder. “That’s totally logical, but something besides logic was going on yesterday. I can’t explain it, but I had the feeling if I didn’t adopt this very cat, I would be making a huge mistake.”

  “A huge mistake for him, obviously. He’s in heaven.”

  “Yeah, but I’ll bet he’s not used to being inside so much. Esmeralda said she used to walk him all the time. I should take him out this morning.”

  “I’ll go with you.” The words were out before Jon gave himself time to think it through.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? We could stay away from the main part of town, but I can’t guarantee that someone wouldn’t notice us, or rather, you. Especially if we’re walking a cat.”

  He’d offered to go with her, and it suddenly seemed important that he prove he could do something simple and ordinary this week. Taking a stroll with Kate would be fun. He didn’t like the idea of her going out by herself while he stayed behind on the slight chance he’d be spotted.

  “Nobody expects to see me here,” he said. “You know how it is—you catch a glimpse of somebody you think might be famous, but if it’s not where you’d expect them, you doubt yourself. I’ll wear a baseball cap and shades. It’ll be fine.”

  Chapter 7

  Kate wasn’t so sure it would be fine. But Jon seemed determined to take this walk with her and Darwin, so after he made them a breakfast of omelets, coffee, and toast, she harnessed up the cat and led the way out the door.

  Jon followed her down the steps. “This is great. Not too hot yet, a few clouds gathering to make the sky look more interesting. Maybe it’ll rain this afternoon.”

  “Maybe.” While Darwin found a small patch of wild grass to munch on, Kate checked the area for any suspicious people or vehicles. She didn’t notice anything unusual. Cars seldom came up this far unless they were looking spec
ifically for the Hummingbird Inn, and not many people walked up this way, either. The sidewalk ended right past the B and B.

  “I want to make love to you under that tin roof while it’s raining.”

  That suggestion pushed the threat of paparazzi straight out of Kate’s head. She glanced at Jon and enjoyed the delicious sizzle as they smiled at each other.

  He’d done his best to look inconspicuous, but she thought it was a lost cause. Or maybe she was predisposed to see the hot movie star hiding behind shades and a Dodgers baseball cap. His white T-shirt had no logo on it, but Jon didn’t need designer clothes to stand out. He never had.

  He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth. “Come on. We need to start walking before I change my mind and haul you back inside.”

  “Okeydoke.” Life didn’t get any better than standing in the morning sunshine listening to Jon make sexy promises that would become reality in the hours and days ahead. Kate felt like dancing, and she might have except that she had Darwin on a leash, and she didn’t think he’d appreciate having her cavort around.

  “Let’s go this way.” Jon started down the hill.

  “That’s toward town. If we go the other way, then you’ll have less chance of being recognized.”

  Jon glanced in the other direction. “But there’s no sidewalk in that direction, and the edge of the pavement’s eroded from the rain. This way will be fine.” He motioned her forward. “I’ll prove to you that nobody will take a second look. I’ve done this before and gotten away with it.”

  “Yes, but I doubt you were with a woman walking a cat.”

  “Ah, I’ll bet that’s nothing in Bisbee. Maggie’s told me all sorts of strange stories about the people here, both living and dead. You have ghosts in this town, for God’s sake. Nobody will pay attention to a cat on a leash.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Kate reluctantly joined him on his trek down the hill. Their progress was slow because Darwin wanted to stop and smell everything. He also tried to walk up the sidewalk of each house they passed, as if he had every intention of visiting all the neighbors.

  At first Kate imagined those same neighbors would surely be peering out their windows and spot the famous Jon Ramsey going down the sidewalk. But she was being paranoid. And after they passed a few people who barely glanced at them, she realized Jon had described the situation accurately. People didn’t expect to see him here, so they didn’t give him a second glance.

 

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