I shrug one shoulder. “Sure. I believe you.”
“No. I can tell you don’t. You still think this is fake.” Reaching around me, he slides his hands under my shirt and cups my breasts, squeezing, then flicking the nipples. His mouth rests against the base of my neck. He unclasps the front catch on my bra, and it falls away, leaving my breasts bare under my shirt. He presses his palms against my nipples then moves his hands in a rolling, massage-type gesture. It feels good—sexy and therapeutic at the same time, although I don’t think that’s what he’s actually after. “Get up,” he says after a few seconds.
“What?”
“Get up. Stand up.” He pushes to his feet, and I follow suit. When I’m standing next to the couch, he rewards me with a swat to the fanny, stinging even through my jeans. I jump a little, and he gives me that feral, I’m-about-to-jump-your-bones grin that has gotten so familiar.
He takes both shoulders in his hands and turns me around then steers me to the end of the couch. Once I’m situated, he presses on my back between my shoulder blades. Obediently I bend at the waist and set my hands on the arm of the couch. My body’s lighting up in anticipation; I know what he’s going to do to me.
“Christopher’s napping,” I tell him quietly.
“I’ll make it quick.” His tone makes it sound more like a challenge than an inconvenience.
He pulls at my jeans, pulling them down past my ass. If Christopher weren’t here, I know he’d spank me, but instead he pats me just hard enough for it to sting the tiniest bit. “Next time,” he says, menacing. I laugh. I never would have thought I would enjoy being spanked, but damn has he ever changed my mind on that count.
I hear his belt buckle rattle, then his cock presses hard into my butt cheek. He takes it in hand and swats me with it a couple of times, which would also make me laugh if my panties weren’t so wet.
“You like that?”
“Mmmm,” I tell him. It’s so hard to be quiet, but talking helps keep me from moaning and screeching, even though we still have to keep our voices down.
He strokes my pussy with his dick, his thumb playing at my asshole. I never thought I’d like that, either, but damn. That touch alone makes me squirm and wiggle, trying to fight my body’s need to just explode.
“Want you inside,” I murmur, reaching back to clutch at his thigh. My nails dig in.
“How bad?”
“God, Jesse, just fuck me. Please.”
“Well, since you asked nice…”
He spears hard into me, then fucks me fast and hard. With his thumb still teasing my asshole, he reaches around with the other hand to tickle my clit.
Oh God. I have to think it as loudly as possible to keep the words from screaming out of my mouth. He thrusts hard, at the same time keeping his finger rubbing in a gentle circle around my clit, and it’s only a few seconds before the combination sets me off like fireworks.
I clench my teeth, the orgasm rolling through me like waves hitting the shore during a massive storm. The climax roars in my ears so loudly it seems strange that nobody else could possibly be able to hear it.
He shoves hard into me just as I hit the peak, and he, too, lets go. I can feel him emptying inside me, hot and slick. It feels so good, the way he owns me. The way he never seems to get tired of this. Even while he’s been hurting, he’s seemed incapable of keeping his hands off me.
Not that I’ve minded. Not one little bit.
Finally he collapses onto my back and kisses my neck. Slowly I push myself up onto my elbows, eyes closed, reveling in the feeling of his mouth against my skin.
Suddenly, though, he stops.
“Fuck,” he says.
“What?” I open my eyes, startled and afraid something horrible has happened.
On the other end of the couch, perched on the arm, is Thor. He’s just sitting there, staring, unblinking, golden eyes fixed to us.
“Damn,” says Jesse. “You don’t think he was watching the whole time, was he?”
I just chuckle. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”
He straightens, zipping up his pants. “It’s kind of creepy.”
I stand and turn to watch him, trying to figure out if he’s serious. “He’s just a cat.”
“Yeah, but still.” Jesse shakes his head and starts toward the bedroom.
“How long until you have to go to work?” I call after him, buttoning my jeans.
“Couple hours…shit!” The last word comes out on a roar.
I run toward the bedroom. “What? What’s wrong?”
He’s standing in front of the closet holding the helmet he needs to take with him to the fire house tonight. “Fucking cat!” he snarls. “Fucking cat pissed in my helmet!”
He stomps into the bathroom and starts running water in the tub. “I swear to God I’m going to throw that cat in the yard. If he can’t behave in the house—”
“No,” I cut him off, following him. “You can’t put him outside. He’s always been an indoor cat—he won’t know what to do or where to go. He’ll get hit by a car or something.”
He hangs his head, teeth clenched while he rinses out the inside of the helmet. “I don’t know, Maddy. I just don’t know how much longer I can deal with him.”
My heart sinks, all the positive feeling from the sex sinking with it. “He’s getting better.”
“Not better enough.”
From the other room I hear Christopher calling, probably disturbed by Jesse’s shouting.
“Damn it, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake him up.”
I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. His nap time was about over anyway.” I turn then swing back, pointing a finger at him. “Do not put that cat outside. Put him in his room until you cool off, but don’t put him in the yard. Okay?”
Jesse nods reluctantly. “Fine.”
I go to check on Christopher, wondering if Thor will ever sort out his stupid little cat brain.
It’s not long before reality sets back in. Two days later I drag home exhausted, Christopher warm and sweaty in my arms, after half the day sitting in the ER waiting to find out why he had a fever that spiked over 103. Even though Mel went with me for moral support, it was still a nightmare.
Christopher’s better now, after some medication and precautionary fluids. I push the door open, noting there’s a bit of a draft. Maybe that’s why Christopher got sick. It’s not the best time of year for an open window—warmish during the day but still pretty chilly at night.
I settle Christopher down then, irritated, go to investigate the draft. There’s a window half open—screen and all. My irritation spikes. It’s one thing to leave the window open to cool down the house, but why the hell would Jesse open the screen? He knows the cat could get out.
I push the screen shut and leave the window slightly open, hoping to cool the house down a bit before nightfall. Then, looking forward to some time to cool myself down, I head to the kitchen for a glass of iced tea.
I don’t even make it to the fridge before I see the note on the kitchen counter. It’s handwritten, I can tell that much, the writing sharp and pointy. I pick it up and read it.
Then slam it back down onto the counter, tears of rage hot in my eyes.
“Where is my phone?” I mutter through gritted teeth. “Where the fuck is my phone?”
It’s in my purse, of course, and I stab the icon that dials Jesse’s number. He picks up after two rings.
“What the fuck, Jesse?” I screech at him before he can even say “hello.” “What the actual fuck?”
“Maddy? What? What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about!” I can’t even control the volume of my voice anymore, even knowing I could easily wake Christopher up if I don’t keep it down. “How could you just…take Thor to the vet? You know they won’t be able to place him there! You know they’ll end up having to put him down!” Which was what the note said—I’m taking Thor to the vet and I’m leaving him ther
e. I can’t deal. I’m sorry, Madison, but I just can’t deal with it anymore. But I can’t even get my head around that. How could he do that to Thor? How could he do that to me? To his sister?
“Mads. Take a deep breath.”
“Take a deep breath my fucking ass!” I shake the note violently, wishing it were thicker so it would make more noise. “We could have at least talked about it. You know I’m more than willing to help out with this stuff.” The magnitude of the betrayal is only just starting to sink in. I’m so angry I feel like I might burst a major blood vessel or something.
“Madison,” he says again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I left Thor asleep in his cat tree in the living room. I swear.”
“Don’t you lie to me, you motherfuck—”
“I swear I’m not lying. Honest, Mads. You know I wouldn’t do that. Don’t you?”
He sounds as off put as I was, first reading the note. “It’s right here in this note.” Still, I start prowling the house, looking for Thor. Is he really still around here somewhere? Nothing’s making sense.
“What note?”
“The one I found on the kitchen counter.”
“I didn’t leave a note.”
“There’s a note right here. I can Snapchat it at you.”
“Please don’t.” I can hear him take a deep breath. “I believe you. I just have no idea where the hell it would have come from. I sure as hell didn’t write it.”
“Well, if you didn’t take the cat, then where the hell is he?”
“You can’t find him?”
“No. I don’t see him anywhere.” I hesitate. “There was a window open.”
His voice is starting to sound strained, too. Maybe this really is some huge mistake, some way or another. He sounds genuinely concerned. “You think he got through the screen?”
“The screen was down. He could have jumped right out.” I head for the front door then outside, searching the bushes, the grass, under the porch.
“Who the hell took the screen out?”
“I don’t know. Jesse…” I trail off. I thought I heard a meow. My heart jumps, and I look up…and up…into the big maple in the front yard.
Thor blinks down at me from where he’s clinging to one of the highest branches. His ears drop back, and he gives me a look that’s the most defeated I’ve ever seen from a cat in my life.
“Meow,” he says, and I burst into tears.
12
Jesse
Jesse
Of all the dumb-ass things I’ve ever had to do, this is probably the dumbest. I’ve been a firefighter for years and have never been subjected to this particular indignity.
Still, I hang on as the cherry picker rises then shifts course toward the maple tree. I can see Thor among the branches. He looks like he’s scared half to death.
Seriously, it’s one thing to have to rescue somebody’s cat from a tree. Rescuing your own? That’s… Let’s just say the rounds of laughter from the guys on the ground around the fire truck are offering an appropriate commentary. They were more than willing to come help me out—I think mostly because they want to be able to mock me about it. I’m probably going to get a talking-to later for appropriating city equipment to save my own cat.
“Thor,” I say, sing-songing it. “Hey, buddy. How’d you get up there, huh?”
He climbed, you moron. Thor just crouches down on the limb, staring at me, his pupils little more than slits in his big, yellow eyes. He’s meowing over and over—it almost sounds like he’s crying. It’s the first time in weeks I haven’t wanted to smack him upside his little kitty-cat head.
“I’m going to get you down from there, okay?” I wave down to the guy maneuvering the cherry picker, directing him so he’ll get me a little closer. “Don’t be afraid of the big noisy truck. It’s just me. Jesse. The one you like to torture with your pointy feet.”
Thor hunches closer to the tree branch. He really does look terrified. I hear the guys on the ground laughing, and I can’t really blame them. I’d be doing the same thing if I were on the ground and one of them were up here in the cherry picker trying to pluck a goddamn cat out of a tree. I lean over, trying to reach Thor, but he backs away.
“C’mon, dude. Help me out here.” I lean forward and swipe toward him, but he moves the wrong way, and suddenly he’s sliding off the branch.
No, no no, don’t fall, don’t fall… I swipe again at him, and this time my gloved hands makes contact. His claws dig in, but I can’t feel them through the leather of the glove. I jerk my hand back to my chest. He’s safe. The guys are still laughing, but it’s okay. Lacey would be laughing her ass off at me right about now.
I smile a little to myself. Thor curls in close, not trying to get away. He’s warm against me, and I can feel his heart going pitty-pat—so fast. The cherry picker starts to go lower.
“You’re a complete moron, you know?” I tell him quietly. “That was a really stupid thing for you to do. Stay in the house. You have no idea how to take care of yourself outside. You’ll end up getting hit by a car or some dumb-ass dog will eat you.”
I pull him a little closer. He blinks at me and meows. As the cherry picker comes down, Thor rubs his face across my cheek. Great. Now I’m covered in cat spit. Perfect. But he’s vibrating in my hands, and I realize I’m feeling him purr.
He’s purring. Is it even remotely possible that he might be starting to like me? There’s a swell of hope inside me that I know has more to do with Lacey than with her stupid cat, but it’s there nonetheless.
I come down from the cherry picker to the sound of cameras clicking. There’s a small crowd gathered around the truck, and everything from professional cameras to iPhones is going off in my face. Great. I’ll probably be all over the local news tonight.
Just what I need.
The crowds disperse fairly quickly, hurried along by the other firefighters, most of whom are still smirking at me. I head toward the house, still carrying Thor. Maddy’s been waiting for me, and she puts her arms out as soon as I come close enough.
“Give him here,” she says, but I shake my head.
“No, he’s fine. I’ll just hang on to him.”
She smiles a little, but her forehead is still creased with worry. I don’t blame her.
Thor is shivering, so I keep hold of him while I take a seat on my couch. Now that the cat is safe, I’m starting to build up a good head of anger.
“Somebody broke into the house,” I say quietly, trying not to upset Thor. Or Maddy, for that matter, although I know she’s perfectly aware that’s what has to have happened. “Somebody broke in here, left the note, and tossed Thor out the window.”
“Why would anybody do that?” Maddy’s face has gone pale. She wraps her arms around herself. “I can understand breaking in to steal something, but this? It makes no sense.”
I shake my head. It’s starting to make sense to me, but I don’t want to spell it out for her.
“You should call the police,” she tells me, and I keep shaking my head.
“No. There’s not enough evidence.”
She’s quiet a moment, then she plants her fists on her hips in that way she has and glares at me. “You know who did this.”
“I have a suspicion.” It’s hard for me to keep the growing rage out of my voice. I’m going to find Curry and I’m going to pound his face in. Then I’m going to do it again.
“Who. Who do you think it is?”
“Curry.” I say his name through clenched teeth.
She drops her confrontational stance. “Why in the world would he do something like this?”
“I don’t know, but he’s had it out for me since I was appointed interim fire chief. He wants the job—thinks he deserved it.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. You think he’d do something this petty?”
“Yes.” Her protest makes me aware of how ridiculous it sounds, but I don’t know anybody else who would want to interfere with my personal life in t
hat way. I don’t have any bitter ex-girlfriends lurking around.
“Again, Jesse—why?”
I fling up a hand, which makes Thor turn his head and give me a look. At least he doesn’t bite me. That’s an improvement. “He’s fucking nuts.”
Maddy crosses her arms over her chest. I can tell she’s still skeptical, but at least she’s listening. “Don’t do anything stupid, Jesse.”
“I won’t.” Not yet. I’m going to bide my time. Sooner or later Curry will cross a line that’ll make it easy for me to pin him to the wall. Then I’ll make my move.
Thor finally heads off for a nap in his cat tree as if nothing ever happened. I kind of miss holding him. For a little while there, I actually started to feel like I was doing something right by my sister.
I try not to think about it too much. Instead I fire up the grill and get ready to cook burgers for Maddy and me for dinner.
I’m just about to fire up the charcoal when my phone buzzes.
It’s Whitaker. Dude. Turn on your TV. Local news.
I frown. What’s going on? I text back.
Just turn the TV on.
I head back inside and flip on the TV. And stare at it, mouth open as I listen to the reporter speak.
“This was the scene in a suburban neighborhood this afternoon when interim fire chief Jesse King found himself in the stereotypical position of rescuing a cat from a tree.”
“Oh my God.” I sink into my armchair. There’s a video running in the background, and my face is featured in an inset in an upper corner of the screen.
“This post on Facebook blew up today when neighbors on the scene posted a video of King in a cherry picker coaxing down a reluctant cat. An individual on the scene let us know it’s actually his own cat. The kitty belonged to his late sister—”
“Shit piss fuck.” I turn off the TV and grab my coat. Apparently I’ve got some explaining to do.
Chief Pilsner is in his office when I get there, but he’s not alone. Curry’s already there, waving his arms and making a big hairy deal about everything.
Hot as Sin (Contemporary Romance Box Set) Page 38