Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
“For me?”
I stretch my neck and pretend to search the room. “You see anyone else here?”
She laughs softly. “I feel like I tricked you into this.”
Few women have ever worried about my feelings. I’m more like a carnival ride to most women I’ve encountered. Something wild and scary they enjoy for a few minutes. Then they have a fun story to share for the rest of their lives—all about how the mean, scarred biker who likes to play with knives gave them a few orgasms and sent them on their way.
“You didn’t trick me into anything.” How can she think I don’t want to be here when I’m desperately trying to balance my need to go slow with her and my desire to fuck her to pieces?
I touch my lips to hers again. “I want to be here with you. We should talk about—”
“Meeerow.” Something bumps against my shin.
“What the fuck?” I yank my legs up, jostling Margot off of me. My gaze lands on a sleek black cat with bright, curious green eyes sitting on the edge of the chair.
“Meeerow.” The little fucker jumps on me, and casually strolls up my body like I’m his personal balance beam. “Mrrp.” It dips its head and butts my chin to rub its soft silky fur against my face.
“Um, hi there.” I carefully lower my hand and pat the cat’s head.
Margot stares at us with wide eyes. She knows this cat, right? He didn’t just wander in off the streets or come in with its owner’s body?
“Mwrrawr.” The cat purrs like a motorboat and keeps rubbing my chin.
“Gretel, what are you doing?” Margot scoops the cat into her arms. “Sorry, I hope you don’t mind cats. I didn’t say anything because she never comes out of hiding when there’s someone here.”
Gretel’s freakishly bright eyes are still focused on me. Her motorboat purr in full throttle, her little toes flexing and retracting like she’s reaching for me.
“I like cats,” I answer slowly. “Their give no fucks attitude speaks to my soul.”
“That’s Gretel,” Margot laughs.
“I had farm cats when I was a kid. They weren’t this friendly, though.”
Margot sets Gretel down and the cat returns to rub herself all over my chest. I sit up and scratch behind her ears.
“She’s never this friendly with people.” The open-mouthed stare Margot’s watching us with highlights this is a rare occasion. “Ever.”
If my brothers were around, I’d make a crack like, “See, females of every species love me,” but that seems like a weird thing to say to the woman I want to fuck about the cat who’s currently drooling on my hand.
Gretel flops on the end of the chair and rolls to her back, kicking her paws in the air. I reach over to rub her belly and she playfully grabs my hand and swipes her scratchy tongue over my knuckles.
“Even her little toes are black,” I say, playing with her paws.
Margot nods. “She was a shelter kitty, there on borrowed time. I saw her sweet face in a post someone shared and couldn’t stop thinking about her.” Her eyes water. “I always wanted a pet and Dad wouldn’t let us because, you know, too much chance for it to get out and run downstairs during a service or something.”
“But he let you have one now?”
“Well.” Her lips stretch into a secret smile. “I didn’t ask. Black cats have a hard time getting adopted and the shelter couldn’t keep her much longer. So, I just brought her home.”
“He doesn’t even know she’s here?”
“No, he knows.” She scratches behind Gretel’s ears and that cat “mrrrps” at her again. “She’s leash trained, so I take her for walks around the property sometimes. He just…” Margot shrugs. “Made peace with it, I guess.”
Margot’s a little badass in her own way.
Like her welcoming switch has been flipped off, Gretel rolls to her feet, hops off the chair and strolls away. She turns a corner and disappears.
“She’s not going to come back and watch us, is she?” I ask.
Margot lifts one shoulder. “She’s never shown interest in anyone else before, so anything is possible.” She turns toward me. “Where were we?”
I curl a finger, inviting her closer. “You were earning an A-plus in kissing.”
“Ooo, an A, huh? I never got those before.”
“A-plus and really? You strike me as very studious.”
She settles into the chair again, lining herself flush to me, so we’re touching almost everywhere, relaxed and easy. “No, I was more the ‘Cs get degrees’ kind of girl, until senior year. I need to really enjoy the subject matter to excel at it.”
A deep rumble of laughter pours out of me. She blinks, then blushes. “Oh, I just realized what that sounded like.” She presses her finger to my cheekbone, tracing to my chin. “It’s true, though. I enjoy being in your presence.”