CAT SNIPS
a short story collection by Cat Johnson 
Black Cat
Lar has existed as a cat for a thousand years, with all the discomforts and indignities that go along with it. But when he’s adopted by Belinda and wakes up no longer a cat, but as a man and in her bed, can his curse finally be at an end? For more about the characters of Grace and Donna from Black Cat, look for Just Desserts by Cat Johnson.

Friends With Benefits
Meg thinks she’s getting the best of both worlds when she and her friend Jeff decide to start having sex with no strings attached, until Meg suddenly finds that, strings or not, she’s become attached to Jeff. The question is, does Jeff feel the same, or is there a new woman in his life?

Fireworks
The last thing Brad wants to do is attend leadership school over the 4th of July holiday. How could the Army think it was a good idea to schedule training in Georgia in July? When his roommate Joe suggests they go see the fireworks and they run into Mary Jo, Joe’s first love there, Brad soon realizes things are only going to get a whole lot hotter. Especially once he discovers that Joe likes to share.

The Soldier and the Siren
After having his heart torn out by a Dear John letter while deployed, David returns home without much hope of things getting better. Then he heard her voice and his whole world changed.

The Rookie (a Studs in Spurs series deleted scene)
This 2,500 word deleted scene from Bucked (Studs in Spurs, Book 2) features Mustang, Chase and one lucky woman who gets to know them better. It’s not a complete story, nor is it a happily-ever-after romance, but it is a smoking hot threesome scene fans of the series, and readers of Bucked will love.

Eight Second Ride (a Studs in Spurs series short story)
Young pro bull rider Chase Reese learns a lesson about women the hard way, but makes a friend in the process in this high energy, action packed 3,000 word single scene. Written as a "thank you" to the fans of the Studs in Spurs series who requested more of Chase. See more of Chase and his fellow bull riders Slade and Mustang in the Studs in Spurs series by Cat Johnson and don’t miss Chase’s book Ride (Studs in Spurs, Book 3).


CAT SNIPS
Copyright 2011 by CAT JOHNSON
Smashwords Edition

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Table of Contents
Black Cat
Friends With Benefits
Fireworks
The Soldier and the Siren
The Rookie (a Studs in Spurs series deleted scene)
Eight Second Ride (a Studs in Spurs series short story)
About the Author


BLACK CAT
Prologue
1,000 years ago
Someone was singing, a woman. Sweet and melodic.
Well, that settled it. He must be in heaven. But then why did his head ache so? His arm too, now that he thought about it. There shouldn’t be pain in heaven. Then his blurred brain realized. He must be in hell.
It shouldn’t surprise him, really. He was a warrior. Killing was part of his life. And even though it was in the name of his king, killing was killing. He remembered now the battle that had finally ended his life. The sound of horses’ hooves thundering around him, vibrating his skull as he lay helplessly on the cold October ground. The pungent mingled smells of earth, sweat, and fresh blood, his own and that of others, increasing the ever present throbbing in his head. Seeing from his vantage point on the ground other bodies strewn across the field of battle. The slow moving human vultures as they preyed upon the fallen, one by one.
He had tried to push himself up with his one arm that wasn’t broken, but his chain mail was too heavy and his body too weakened from his injuries. Finally, accepting his fate, he had simply closed his eyes. He’d said a quick prayer as the blessed darkness took over and erased his pain…and his life.
Now the pain was back. He was surely in hell. So be it. If he were in hell, he would just have to learn to live with it, so to speak.  
But that still didn’t explain the singing. He pried open one eye. Even just the light of the flickering flame of the fire felt like a knife cutting through his brain. If this pain were to be his fate for eternity, it would be extremely unpleasant, to say the least.
His vision cleared enough for him to take in his surroundings. Apparently hell, for him anyway, was a small cottage filled with many cats and lots of herbs hanging from the ceiling. A woman faced away from him, cooking something in a cauldron over the fire in the hearth.
Odd. The priests who preached of hell had mentioned fire and brimstone, but not this deceivingly domestic scene. Although whatever the woman was cooking smelled like it could only have originated in hell. He wrinkled his nose against the foul odor. 
She ceased her singing and turned. “Ah, finally he wakes.” She came closer and peered at him. One work-roughened hand grasped his chin so she could angle his face toward the light.  
“Tell me my fate, oh mistress of hell.” He squinted his eyes against the pain in his head and noted that the neckline of her dress was cut so low he could almost see the tops of her nipples. Hm? But of course, hell wouldn’t be filled with virtuous women, now would it? 
“Mistress of hell? That’s the thanks I get for saving your miserable life? I knew I should have taken the fat ugly one instead. The pretty ones are never grateful. Isn’t that right, Sebastian?” She seemed to be speaking now to one of the cats. She cackled, seemingly amused at her own jest, the meaning of which escaped him.
He tried to see past the agony in his skull to get a better look at her. The only way to describe her was…ageless. She didn’t seem young, but somehow she was not old either. Definitely, she was not what he would define as beautiful. Far from it. But yet, he found it impossible to look away.
Her eyes appeared as black as her hair and he couldn’t break from their gaze.
Spellbound. That was how he felt.
She ladled some of the foul smelling liquid she had been cooking into a small bone cup and used her breath to cool it. Stronger than she looked, with one arm she raised him easily into a sitting position on the bed and pressed the cup to his lips. He drank, in spite of the fact he had no desire to do so.
As he swallowed all of it, the bitter evil brew had the strangest effect upon him. Suddenly, his head no longer ached and his arm ceased its throbbing, feeling almost as good as it had before he broke it in the battle. He was just thinking that perhaps hell wasn’t going to be so bad when he felt a familiar stirring between his legs. He watched in amazement as the blanket covering his manhood rose. His face grew hot as his hands instinctively moved to hide the source of his embarrassment.
The woman only nodded, looking pleased. “Magic is strong during Samhain. My warrior is stronger than I’d hoped. Isn’t he, Sebastian? Perhaps I did pick the right one. And you know I do like them pretty.” She laughed again and pulled the blanket from him, exposing his nakedness. “Time to thank me for saving your life, warrior.”
He watched in horror, unable to move as she raised her skirts and straddled him.
“I’m not dead?” he managed to croak as she grabbed him and began stroking, intimately, almost lovingly.
“Dead? No. You’re not dead. But you are mine for as long as I wish it. So please me well and live to see another day, warrior.” She turned to the cat again, “Isn’t that right, Sebastian?”
The cat turned and walked away, but the warrior could have sworn he saw a look of human sympathy in its feline eyes.
He lay helpless, as if in a dream world. And though his mind whispered that something was wrong, that if he were really alive and well he needed to leave this strange place and return to his men immediately, his cock beneath her touch screamed for satisfaction far more loudly.
His mind and his body warred until something snapped within him, something strong enough to fight the effects of whatever was in what she had given him to drink. Finding strength he didn’t think he had, he flung the woman off of him and jumped to his feet. She landed on the floor with fire shooting from her eyes. She rose slowly, her face suddenly hideous to him as she mumbled words in a language he didn’t understand.
Her chant grew louder and stronger until it seemed to vibrate the very walls of the cottage. Clay pots fell off shelves while the cats scattered for shelter. Then a pain tore through him the likes of nothing he had ever felt before and he heard a blood curdling scream rip through the air.
He realized the scream was his own as he fell and writhed on the floor.
Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the pain was gone and he could stand again. He rose on four fur-covered feet and stood, eye-to-eye, with Sebastian.


Chapter One 
Present Day 
“What have you been doing to yourself, Belinda? Girl, you’ve got more knots in your shoulders than are listed in the Boy Scout handbook.”
Belinda lay face down on the masseuse table as Gene worked on a particularly painful muscle. “I haven’t done anything to myself.”
“Well, knots like these don’t come around all by themselves. There’s something going on with you. Did you stop using two pillows and only sleep with one, the way I told you last time you were here?”
“Yes,” she mumbled into the head support that was shaped disturbingly like a toilet seat.
“And have you started alternating which shoulder you carry your purse?”
“Um. Yeah.” Boy, she was a bad liar. She didn’t even believe herself. 
“Liar.” Apparently, neither did Gene. But since he was the top masseuse at one of the top spas on the east coast, she should probably listen to what he had to say. Or at least feel guilty when she didn’t.
“Okay. No, I didn’t. But I just can’t switch. It’s more than habit. My bag falls off my shoulder if I try to put it on the other side. But I did empty out everything that wasn’t absolutely necessary and now it’s much lighter. I swear.” Why did she feel like she was ten years old and had been called into the principal’s office?
“All right. That’s better than nothing I suppose. So how long are you girls out for this year?”
“Four days this year. I remember when we first started this all girls spa trip ten years ago. It used to be a single ‘day of beauty’, now it takes four days. I figure in another few years, it’ll grow to be a ‘week of plastic surgery’ instead.”
He laughed. “You girls all look great.” 
“Thank you, and your tip just got bigger.” She laughed too. It was good to be away. It was the second day into the trip with her two best friends and she was just starting to relax. Sometimes unwinding took awhile, she supposed.
Gene gave her a pat on the back. “You’re done. But you know, I think you’re carrying your stress in your shoulders. Try to relax more when you get home. That may help.”
“Thanks, Gene. See you next year.”
Jeez. Maybe her boyfriend Max was right when he complained she was too uptight and no fun anymore. Even Gene could see it, and he only saw her once a year.
Alone, she donned her robe and rubber spa shoes and shuffled her way past the treatment rooms and to the steam room. If anything was certain in life, it was that her friends could be found either in the steam room or at the bar. But since it was still early, she was betting on the steam room.
She hung her robe on a hook outside, wrapped a towel around herself and braved the blast of steam that hit her in the face when she opened the door. She could just make out two forms on the benches inside and hear her friends’ voices. “Hey, girls.”
“Hey, Belinda. How was your massage?” Donna’s voice came through the haze.
“Fabulous, as usual. Although Gene yelled at me for carrying my stress in my shoulders.” Belinda lay down next to them and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply the eucalyptus-scented vapor.
“He yelled at me for carrying my purse on my shoulder,” Grace added from the upper bench.
“Yeah, I got that too. I talked my way out of it. But any man with hands like that is worth the lectures.” Belinda sighed. 
“Agreed.” Donna nodded and took a sip of water from her bottle. “Too bad Gene is married. You know, one of us should marry a masseuse. It would be a worthy addition to our group of friends.”
“It’s going to have to be one of you two. I’ve already got a boyfriend.” Although Belinda had to admit, Max didn’t have hands like Gene. Not that she would know.
Any rubbing that went on in their relationship seemed to be her massaging him. Hmm. She’d have to see about that when she got back. 
“I’ll get right on that for you. Don’t ever say I’m not willing to take one for the team.” Grace laughed.
“And we appreciate that.” Belinda stretched with a yawn. It didn’t get much better than this. “So, what were you talking about when I came in?”
“Grace bought a book on witchcraft in the gift shop upstairs and is trying to figure out how best to use it. I think she should do a spell to get rich so we can buy a beach house with the money and all share it.” Donna screwed the top off her bottle of water and drank again.
“But I think I want to put a curse on my ex-boyfriend so that all of his hair falls out and his new girlfriend gets really fat,” Grace informed her wickedly while wiping her face on the corner of her towel.
“And I think a curse so that his penis falls off would be better. So anyway, we just haven’t figured out yet if she wants to be a good witch or a bad witch,” Donna summed up.
“I vote for bad,” Grace added. 
Belinda shook her head. “I don’t know about that. I’m a firm believer in karma and that anything you do, good or bad, comes back to you threefold. So even though I don’t believe in witchcraft, as fun as it would be if it did exist and we could get a beach house, I still wouldn’t push my luck.”
“Oh, I definitely believe in karma.” Donna nodded. “Remember last year when Grace wouldn’t let me sing with her at karaoke and then that weirdo with the ‘Kill Everyone’ tattoo came up and shared the microphone with her? Karma.”
“You’re right. That was the quickest payback I’ve ever seen.” Belinda laughed.
“Oh shut up, both of you.” Grace scowled just as a giant burst of spray came out of the steam jets and hit her smack in the face. “Ow! That’s hot.”
Belinda watched in shock, then broke out laughing. “Oh my God. That was karma again.”
“Yup.” Donna laughed. “Is it time to go to the bar yet? My contact lenses are starting to melt onto my eyes.”
“As long as karma doesn’t mind, I could use a drink.” Grace sounded distinctly pissy.
It was barely eleven in the morning. She somehow always came back from these spa trips heavier, hung-over and exhausted, but Belinda wouldn’t miss it for the world. She sat up on the bench. “I guess it’s five o’clock somewhere. Let’s go.”
They changed out of their robes and, looking far from beautiful after the time spent in the steam room, went upstairs to the bar and ordered three mimosas.
As the bartender poured champagne and orange juice into three fluted glasses, Belinda turned on her cell phone and checked for messages. There weren’t any, but since she was with her two best friends, that wasn’t too strange.
She had thought that Max might call though.  
“I better call Max and check in. I haven’t talked to him since we first got here.” It was Saturday, so he should be home in her condo. He had moved in with her six months ago when he lost his job and was looking for a new one. And since his new job involved selling software, he traveled a lot, so it just seemed silly for him to get another apartment when he was away so much. Besides, living together was one step closer to getting married, wasn’t it? And Belinda didn’t believe in that old adage about the free milk and the cow anyway.
She was about to start dialing when she looked up and saw her friends exchange looks. “What?”
Donna shrugged. “It’s just that we don’t think you should have to check in with Max.”
“I don’t have to. I want to.”
Grace dug through the bowl of bar snacks, picking out all the peanuts. “He doesn’t call you for days when he’s away on business. And then you sit there all worried about him. You should let him stew for a while and see what it feels like.”
Belinda rolled her eyes and put her phone back in her bag. “Fine. I won’t call.” At least, not in front of them anyway.
Besides, she was sure that everything was just fine. Max was probably just sitting home watching TV. And if he wasn’t home, he might be out running. That’s what he told her he was doing all those times he wasn’t in when she called his hotel rooms late at night when he was away on business. Sometimes he got insomnia and it helped if he went out. That’s all. She had nothing to worry about. She and Max were just fine. Yup, just fine. And that nagging feeling she always had when they were apart was just her being insecure and crazy, just like Max said it was.
She took a large swallow of her mimosa.


Chapter Two 
Belinda opened the door to her condo and dragged in her suitcase. It seemed much heavier and fuller than when she had left. Well, she had done a bit of shopping while away. Her spa trip was only once a year, after all. 
She looked around, surprised at how quiet it was. It was late Monday evening and Max should be home from work by now. She closed the door behind her and wandered around, thinking maybe she would find a note from him. What she did find was wet towels, dirty laundry, crumbs and Sunday’s newspaper strewn on the floor, but no note.
Her obsessive-compulsive nature battled over whether to unpack first or clean up. She opted for the cleaning and whizzed around like a maniac to get the place in decent shape before Max got home from work.
Then she threw together a quick dinner, which she left on the burner on low to keep warm while she lit some candles.
Since Max still wasn’t home, she was relieved she had time to unpack and do the laundry too. 
She was so busy, she didn’t notice until she finally sat down for a break exactly how late it had gotten. It was nearly ten. Now she started to worry. What if he was in an accident or something? No one would know to call her. She dialed his cell phone and got no answer.
Frowning, she began to pace. What should she do now? She was about to get out the phonebook and start calling local emergency rooms when she heard his key in the door.
“Hi. I’m so glad you’re home. I was worried.” She ran to him and hugged him. 
He shook his head. “I don’t know why you worry. You know I’m always working.” 
“I know. It’s just I couldn’t get you on your cell phone.”
“It’s on, you must have dialed wrong.” He shrugged.
She frowned. She didn’t think so. Whatever. “I made dinner. It’s on the stove.”
“I ate, thanks. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” He kissed her on the forehead and headed for the bedroom.
She wasn’t sure if she liked him better before, when he was unemployed and cranky but home all the time. Or now, employed and cranky but working all the time. She went into the kitchen, put the food away in the fridge, blew out the candles and crawled into bed beside him.
She snuggled against his back. “I missed you.”
“Missed you too.” The words were muffled by his pillow.
“Do you want to…you know?” She ran her hand around his waist.
“Now? It’s too late. Tomorrow.” He gave her hand a squeeze then pushed it away. 
She rolled over and punched her pillow into shape. The most touching she’d gotten in recent memory was from the masseuse. That was pretty sad. She apparently didn’t have to worry about Max not wanting to buy the cow because he was getting the milk for free, since he didn’t even seem to want the free milk in the first place.
“Oh, by the way, I leave tomorrow for a trade show in Denver. I’ll be gone until Wednesday.” His voice came sleepily through the dark.
And there went tomorrow night’s milk, down the drain.
“Okay.” She sighed. “The laundry is done, so you have clean socks and underwear.”
“Thanks, babe. You’re the best.” Then he started snoring.


He hurt…again. Why was he always waking up in strange places and in pain? This time, however, was by far the worst. Not the pain, but the cause for it. He leaned down and licked the area in question. It tasted like alcohol. Damn them.
By some miracle, he had survived a millennium, but now he wasn’t sure he wanted to live another day. He remembered being captured a few days ago. Then being stretched out on the operating table before the world went black. Oh, the do-gooders had a lovely word for it— neutered. Why didn’t they call it what it really was—castration.
Damn them and damn the witch that did this to him.
At least she was dead. He had watched her cottage burn to the ground with her in it. With Sebastian’s help, it had been easy enough to dump a sleeping herb into her broth pot one night. Then all they had to do was pull a burning stick from the hearth as she slept. They had been sure to get the other cats, who actually were cats, out before the blaze consumed the cottage and the sleeping witch with it. He had hoped that her death would reverse whatever spell she had put on them both. It hadn’t.
Sebastian chose to stay and try to find his family.
Living as a cat amidst his own family was not a future he had wanted to explore. Especially since it seemed he was not only a cat, but also immortal. Poor Sebastian would have to watch his family die as he lived on forever.
That wasn’t for him. Instead, he had bounced from city to city. A cat could eat well in a city and pick up quite a bit of interesting information. It was by listening inside a pub at a seaside village that he learned of the New World that had been discovered. A new world had sounded exactly right for his new life, and he hopped on the first ship bound for there. Cats were always welcome on ships back then. And as long as you had acquired a taste for rat, everything was fine.
So here he was, in the New World, in a cage, and without his balls.
He had accepted the fact long ago that he was no longer a man, but this—this was unacceptable. If he must live for eternity as a cat, he would at least like to do it intact. He peered through the bars of the cage angrily. With the quick slap of one paw, he overturned the bowl of food next to him. Did they really think he could eat at a time like this?
He was still pouting when a pair of legs worthy of Playboy Magazine stopped right in front of his cage. He had learned a lot in his years as a cat. People left the most interesting things under their beds, including some very titillating magazines.
These particular legs made him feel his recent loss even more keenly. He supposed he could at least try to be happy in his neutered condition if a woman with legs like hers adopted him. It would be far better than going home with one of those old ladies who collected cats. He’d lived with some of them in the past. Most of them were crazy as loons and their houses smelled. But this one, he could live forever just watching her towel off after a shower. Mmm, mmm.
Judging by her expensive looking leather shoes, she would definitely have more than just basic cable. He’d acquired a taste for cable TV over the last couple of decades. Ooo, maybe she’d have satellite. Even better.
During his musings about his new life, she had started to coo at some kitten in one of the cages above him. Being neutered was bad enough, but he would not lose his new woman too. In an act of pure desperation, he reached out a paw and swatted her leg.
Spinning around in a happy dance when she bent to peer at him, he watched a fall of long reddish-brown hair swing over her one shoulder. He purred loudly and rubbed his face against the bars of the cage, trying to look as cute as possible. She smiled and her green eyes lit up.
“Hello, there. Aren’t you handsome.” She stuck a finger between two metal bars and rubbed the side of his face. She was good at rubbing and got just the right spot. He didn’t even have to pretend to purr now.
Then she stood up and walked away. He reached out again and swiped, but missed her leg. Pressing his face up against the cage, he tried to see where she was going. His head and his hopes fell as she went out the door and let it slam shut behind her.


Belinda walked to the front desk of the shelter and tried to quiet the voice in her head. Max didn’t like cats. It was a big responsibility owning a pet. If she adopted a cat, it would be alone all day while she was at work.
But then she thought of all the nights and weekends she was home alone while Max was away. Wouldn’t a warm fuzzy body snuggled up in her lap make her feel better? It wasn’t exactly a substitute for sex, but since she hadn’t been getting a whole lot of that lately, she was grasping at anything right now. And that last cat she had looked at, she just felt a connection to him. He’d actually reached right out and picked her, rather than her picking him.
The volunteer behind the desk looked up from her papers and smiled. “Can I help you?”
Belinda smiled back, her decision made. “Yes. There’s a big black cat in the bottom cage. I’d like to adopt him, please.”


Chapter Three 
“Hey, you want to come over tonight and hang out?” Belinda filled the cat bowl with food and water while cradling the phone on one shoulder. 
Donna hesitated. “Is Max home?”
“No.” Belinda sighed. It was extremely trying that her friends didn’t like her boyfriend. “He’s away at a trade show…again. But there’s a new man in my life I’d like you to meet.”
She smiled down at the black cat as he somehow managed to purr and eat at the same time.
“Really? Who?” Donna sounded much too excited.
“Relax, it’s just a cat I adopted. But I think I love him already. He’s so sweet.” As if on cue, he left his food bowl and came to rub against her legs again. Belinda hadn’t had someone’s undivided attention in a very long time. It was nice, even if it was only a cat.
“I’d love to come over and meet him. I’ll call Grace and pick up a bottle of wine.”
“Great, and I’ve got a pot of sauce on the stove and fresh pasta from the market down the street.” Belinda stepped over the cat to give the sauce a quick stir.
Belinda ran a vacuum over the carpet and had just lit some candles and set the table when the doorbell rang.
Her friends descended upon her apartment bearing wine and fresh filled cannolis. No wonder they had been friends forever. They enjoyed the same things.
They sat down for a relaxed meal.


Amidst a whirlwind of talking, laughing, drinking and eating, the man turned cat sat beneath the coffee table and just observed. It was times like this that made him realize the difference between men and women. Three men would eat and drink together, yes, but without all of this chatter. It was enough to give a person, or even a cat, a headache.
Sure, in the old days, he had enjoyed sitting around a fire and sharing manly companionship. Sometimes they told tales of battle or even raunchy stories about women they’d bedded. Even more recently he’d enjoyed hiding in a pub, watching a game of sport on the TV. Sometimes the men would raise their voices in a cheer, if a specific play warranted it. But never did they all speak at the same time, and so quickly and loudly too.
How did these women even listen to each other when they never shut up long enough? It was just like that talk show that one of his past owners loved. The one where these women sat around a table and just yelled at each other for an hour every morning. He had despised that hour.
“I can’t believe you got a cat.”
He was just pondering his hatred of that particular show and hoping this new owner was not a fan when he heard himself being referred to.
“What’s Max going to say about it?” The one with dark curly hair named Grace was talking and looking at him with distinct distaste. Ah, not a cat lover, he could see that already.
His woman shrugged. “He has nothing to say about it. It’s still my place, Max just happens to be living here right now. Besides, he’s away so much for work, he really can’t complain. He won’t be here enough for the cat to bother him, and I want the company while I’m alone.”
He’d seen evidence of a man around, things like neckties and rather large shoes on the floor of the closet. He’d wondered where this man was, and tried not to feel jealous that his woman was with someone else.
If he could have laughed at himself at that thought, he would have. After a thousand years, you think he would have stopped coveting female flesh, especially after his ‘neutering’. At that memory, he bent to lick himself again. The area was healing nicely, but it itched and was still shaved bald and ridiculous looking. It angered him every time he thought about it.
“He is a beauty. The cat, I mean. I’ve never seen eyes so blue on a domestic shorthaired black cat before. You usually only find that eye color in a Siamese. So what are you going to name him?” the other woman asked. Donna, he thought her name was, the one with shorter straight hair who kept refilling everyone’s wine glass. Obviously, she knew her cats and had a keen appreciation for quality when she saw it. 
His woman shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Nothing seems to fit him. I’ve taken to calling him Black Cat for now.” He glanced up and saw her look over at him and smile. Embarrassed at being caught in his particularly compromising position, he quickly stopped licking himself.
Cat-hating Grace raised an eyebrow. “I’m more interested about the comment that Max is just living here in your place for now. What about the ‘moving in together is one step closer to marriage’ theory of yours?”
His woman took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. He watched her shapely breasts rise and fall, then brought his gaze back to her eyes, as green as cats’ eyes.
“I’ve been rethinking that.” 
“The theory, or Max?” discriminating Donna asked.
His woman rolled her eyes. “Listen, both of you. I know you never liked him. And don’t get all cocky, because I’m not admitting that you’re right. It’s just I don’t like myself when I’m with him. I’m insecure and uncertain. Uptight. Everything he accuses me of being. But that’s not really me.”
Grace threw her hands in the air. “Exactly. That’s what we’ve been saying all along.” Perhaps he would consider giving Grace another chance, given she was on his side in getting rid of this man in his woman’s life.
Donna nodded. “It’s not that we don’t like him. Well, okay, we don’t like him, but it’s because you’re different since you’ve been with him. I don’t think he’s the right guy for you.”
His woman nodded and looked sad as she stared into her wine glass. He walked over and jumped into her lap, circled once, then lay down, purring. He looked up and saw her smile as she stroked him. He closed his eyes and imagined her stroking his human form.
“At least I have you, huh, Black Cat.” She leaned down and kissed him. Her voice and breath in his ear made him shudder.
Damn that witch to hell!
Grace jumped up and grabbed her purse, which was big enough for two cats to live in with room to spare.
“Now that we’ve decided to get rid of Max, let’s consult my spell book and see what we should curse him with.” 
His woman laughed and sent a vibration through him as he lay in her lap. “You’re carrying that witch book around with you now?”
Grace pulled the book from the big bag. “No. I just brought it here tonight because you witches are my coven. So let’s see what we’ve got in here.”
Donna got up from the table. “Good. I’ll put up the pot of coffee and get the cannoli while you figure out how to get me the money for that beach house and make Max’s penis fall off.”
“Thanks, Donna. I’ve got my hands, or rather my lap, full at the moment. And I don’t want Max’s penis to fall off. I just want to find a man who loves me just the way I am and doesn’t make me feel inadequate. Is that too much to ask?” She leaned down and whispered the last sentence to him. He raised his head and rubbed her chin with the side of his face.
“No problem,” Donna called back from the kitchen over the sound of the water running in the sink. “But I’d reconsider the penis thing if I were you.”
He liked the sound of Max’s penis falling off too, particularly after what those cat ladies had just done to him. Misery loves company, as they say. Although, witchcraft had put him in this position and he wasn’t comfortable being around it again. Particularly since the book of spells was currently in Grace the cat-hater’s hands.
They continued to read the spell book over coffee and dessert, and he realized he had nothing to worry about. They were just a bunch of slightly tipsy women fantasizing about being rich, finding love and cursing the men in their lives.
For once he felt safer being a cat rather than a man. It seemed that over the years, women had become more assertive and hated men more with every passing century. It had all started back when women got the vote and had steadily gone downhill from there.
He curled up in his woman’s lap, content for the first time in a long while. As he drifted off to sleep, he inhaled the distinctly female human scent of her. Visions of his human form and her naked one coursed through his brain and he had a feeling his dreams tonight wouldn’t be about mice.

 
Chapter Four 
“What the fuck…”
Belinda awoke with a start and heard Max’s voice in the dark, followed by a cat’s hiss.
“Belinda! Did you get a damn cat?” He stomped into the bedroom and flipped on the light, blinding her.
She blinked at him. “Yes. You didn’t step on him and hurt him, did you?”
“Him? What about me? I nearly tripped and broke my neck in the dark.”
“I can see you’re fine.” She bent to look under the bed for the cat. “He must be frightened to death. Poor thing. Here, Black Cat. Psss, psss, psss.”
“Black Cat? You’re in advertising and that’s the best you can do? Real creative, Belinda.” He snorted and went into the bathroom.
Belinda scowled, his comment grating on her nerves.
There was something very wrong that she was far happier lately when Max was away. When he was home, he always somehow managed to make her feel like crap.
Talking with her friends tonight about Max just seemed to solidify the nagging feeling of discontent that had been residing in the back of her brain for awhile now.
She plopped down next to the bed on the carpet. A realization had just hit her. In the past, when Max was away, she was obsessed with the fact that he was around other women, including his assistant who traveled with him all the time. The insecurity and jealousy had nearly consumed her. But this trip, she hadn’t even thought about it. She was just relaxed and relieved that he was gone. What did that mean? Was she getting stronger, or did she just not care about him anymore?
Hmm. She leaned against the bed and the cat came around the corner. Padding up to her, he jumped to put both paws on her shoulders and butt his head against her chin. She laughed, grabbed him and pulled him into her lap. “Perhaps I’ve fallen in love with you instead, my handsome Black Cat.” She whispered it, but the truth, the fact that she didn’t think she loved Max anymore, sounded loudly in her head.
Max emerged from the bathroom and frowned down at her and the cat. “Don’t think that thing is sleeping in bed with us.”
She bit her tongue to prevent herself from saying what she really wanted to, that she would far rather sleep with the cat than him. Instead, she just kissed the cat on the head and placed him gently on a throw she’d put on a chair for him in the living room. 
Max pulled back the covers and slid underneath, patting the bed next to him. She raised a brow. She recognized that look in his eye. Was he kidding?
She got into bed, flipped off the light and rolled away from him. “Good night.” She felt him snuggle up against her back. Felt his erection pressing into her. Felt his hand start to snake up her leg. Time for payback. “Now? It’s too late, Max. I’m tired. Sorry.” Then she reached down and gave his hand a squeeze and pushed it away. 


In the next room, a very satisfied cat listened carefully, smiled, then fell asleep.
The next morning, after a long sound sleep, he licked his paw and rubbed it against one ear while half-heartedly listening to the news program the Max-man had on the television.
He was sure to keep himself hidden under the dining room table since the Max-man was home alone with him.
There was no love lost there, on either side. Although he had to admit, he enjoyed tripping him the night before when he arrived home so late. Since he had smelled alcohol on the man’s breath the moment he had walked in the door, upsetting him had been ridiculously easy.
He was especially happy he had done it after he saw how rudely the man treated his woman. And he meant his woman, not the Max-man’s woman. He wasn’t going to accept this relationship easily. He remembered how his woman had refused the man sex. That had been classic. He knew his woman had spunk. 
Max-man was currently unpacking his suitcase. His woman had already left for work, but this man seemed to set his own hours and hadn’t made a move to leave yet even though it was late in the morning.
When the cell phone rang, Max-man answered it. The cat had to pause in his cleaning to listen.
“I’ll be into work as soon as I can… No, Belinda will get suspicious if I have to work late again tonight. Relax. We leave for another trip in only two days. You’ll just have to wait until then, you insatiable nympho… No, I’m not going to break up with her. Are you going to leave your husband? …Then stop pushing me.”
The cat’s eyes opened wide. He knew it. That bastard was cheating on his woman. If only he could prove it to her. What a perfect way to get him out of her life permanently. He had to do something, because the thought of his woman being with this man made the bile rise in his throat.
When the Max-man finally left to go to his job and his whore, the cat wasted no time. He’d find proof if it killed him. He pawed through the dirty laundry on the floor, sniffing for perfume and looking for lipstick. That’s how men who cheated sometimes got caught on those soap operas. He found nothing. Max-man must do his cheating naked.
The suitcase was still open and on the floor, so he settled himself inside it and started to paw through the pockets. And there, right in the side pocket that he nearly overlooked, was the overwhelming scent of a female human. He tugged at the zipper with his teeth and his claws until finally it opened enough for him to slip one nail in and pull out a lace pair of obviously worn panties.
Ah, ha!
The Max-man didn’t seem like the sentimental type, but his whore did seem like the vindictive sort. The cat would just bet she slipped these panties into the side pocket, hoping that his woman would find them so she could have the Max-man all to herself.
Well, he would make sure she got her wish. He left them just as they were, half in and half out of the pocket in the open suitcase on the floor. All he had to do now was wait for Belinda to get home from work in a few hours and find the evidence. He glanced at the clock. He would just curl up right inside this comfy piece of luggage for a nice little nap until she did.
 
 
Belinda walked in the door to the sound of the ringing phone. She ran for it and grabbed it just in time before the machine picked up. “Hello.”
“Hey. Grace and I want to do something tonight. It’s Halloween and we’re missing our youth and feeling like we need to do something to celebrate. Something that involves scary movies and lots of chocolate.”
Belinda laughed, out of breath from her sprint for the phone. “I’d love to, but Max just got home late last night and I kind of feel like I have to spend some time with him.”
She could practically hear the face Donna was making on the other end of the line. “Okay, but if you change your mind, we’ll be at my place.” 
“All right. Thanks.” She hung up and dropped her bag on the counter. All she wanted to do right now was take off her shoes, which were killing her, and change into something comfy.
Walking into the bedroom, she had to smile when she spied her black cat curled up in an adorable circle in Max’s suitcase. “Hey, you.” She bent to pet him. “You better not let Max see you in there.”
Then her gaze hit on a small scrap of lace in the side pocket. Frowning, she reached out to take it. What it was hit her like a full force body blow.
“Oh my God.”
The cat put a paw on her leg. She pushed it away and stood up. “Not now, Black Cat.”
Her heart was pounding, her head spinning. She was holding some other woman’s underwear in her hand, unable to move or even think. Then her brain snapped into action. He would deny it. She knew him too well now. He would probably say they were hers and she was crazy for forgetting she put them in his bag. Everything was always somehow her fault, even though he was the cheating bastard. She shook her head. She had to find more proof. But whatever she found, cell phone bills, lipstick, love notes, it wouldn’t matter. He would somehow explain it away and deny it.
Then she realized it didn’t matter. This was her place and as of now, he was out of it. She started to fling his stuff in his suitcase, thinking how convenient of him to leave it on the floor and open for her. And when the suitcase was full, she would move on to putting his stuff in garbage bags. That seemed fitting.
She paused in her flinging just long enough to make two phone calls. Call number one was to the locksmith to have her deadbolt changed. Call number two was to Donna’s house. The voicemail message picked up.
“Hey, I’m coming tonight and I’ve thought of something very Halloween-ish for us to do. Just make sure Grace brings her spell book.” As she hung up the phone, she glanced out the window at the huge orb of a full moon just appearing on the horizon. She was feeling very much like a witch at the moment and she was definitely in the mood to be bad. 

 
Chapter Five 
“I can’t believe he was cheating on you. I always knew he was an ass, but I never dreamed…” Donna poured her a big mug full of hot cider spiked with rum. She handed it to Belinda. “Here, you need this.”
“All men suck.” Grace unwrapped another piece of chocolate.
“You got that right.” Donna nodded.
Belinda was as up for a male bashing session as they were, but it somehow didn’t seem very satisfying tonight. And she was really on edge waiting for her cell phone to ring. It was only a matter of time before Max came home and found not only all his belongings in the hall, but also that his key no longer worked.
God, she hoped he didn’t go crazy, kick down the door and hurt the cat or something. Then she remembered. This was Max she was talking about. He would never risk scuffing his shoes, and she doubted he could kick down a door even if he wanted to. She looked up to find both her friends watching her.
“You okay?” Donna asked. 
She forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I know what will cheer you up.” Grace got up and pulled the spell book out of her bag. “I even picked up colored candles, incense and herbs to enhance the spells.”
Belinda had to smile. Grace was really getting into this. She watched her sprinkle the table with dried rosemary.
Donna rubbed her hands together. “Okay. Me first.” She closed her eyes. “I wish I had enough money to buy a beach house. Oh, and tax free.”
Grace shook her head. “We’re not wishing on a falling star, or blowing out a birthday candle. You have to do it the right way.”
Belinda laughed. “Yeah. Don’t be so silly, Donna.”
Grace shot her a nasty look because of her sarcasm and opened the book. “Here. I found a spell to attract money in the book. First I have to light the green candle. Next, you have to envision the money coming to you. Now, chant this, ‘Money, money, come to me. I deserve prosperity.’”
Donna did as she was told, then sat there expectantly. “Well?” 
“It takes time. Jeez. What do you want? Instant gratification? And you have to help a little bit too. Did you buy a lottery ticket yet for this week’s drawing?”
Donna scowled. “No.” 
“Well, don’t you think you should?” Grace raised an eyebrow.
Donna rolled her eyes. “Yes. Okay. Now it’s Belinda’s turn. What do you want to do? I’ll help you chant if it will make Max’s penis fall off faster.” 
Belinda smiled. “I don’t want that to happen. Although, if he suddenly developed erectile dysfunction disorder, it would serve him right.”
“There’s no spell for that in the book, but I don’t see why we can’t write our own. Ooo, I’ve got it. How about, ‘What you reap is what you sow. Let Max’s penis refuse to grow.’” Grace looking extremely pleased with herself and her rhyme.
Donna clapped her hands. “That was great. Or how about this one? ‘For what he has done to thee, let him receive it back, times three.’ That way it’s up to karma or the Goddess or whoever to decide what happens to him.”
“Hmm. Not bad. You guys are good at this. But I don’t care what happens to Max, as long as he stays out of my life. I just want to be happy and eventually find a decent guy.” Belinda took another sip of cinnamon and rum-laced cider.
“Well, for a love spell we have to light the red candle. Actually, it’s pink for love and red for lust and passion, but they were out of pink so red is close enough, I guess.” Grace scrambled to change to the appropriate color for the spell.
“Lust and passion are good too.” Belinda considered her spell. “Okay, how about, ‘By the moon and by the sun, let me find he who is the one. May he be loyal and may he be true, this is my desire, I ask this of you’.” She finished the rhyme and looked up to see what Donna and Grace thought.
Grace screwed up her face and turned to Donna. “She always has to outdo us. Have you noticed that?” 
Donna shrugged. “Yeah, but she’s good at it. What can I say?”
Belinda rolled her eyes. “It’s not a competition.”
“Whatever. Anyway. My turn. My boss has been a total bitch to me, so I’m going to curse her.” Grace blew out the red candle and lit a black one. “Black must be good for curses, right?”
“I don’t know. This is your thing, honey.” Donna shook her head.
“Well, it can’t hurt. Okay, here it goes. ‘Vengeance is mine, your reign is through, let all of your meanness, return to you. Lose your job and cry boo hoo hoo’.”
Donna frowned at Grace. “That was like some sick warped version of a Dr. Seuss rhyme.”
Grace humphed. “You’re just jealous.”
Belinda smiled. “Okay. No fighting. What do we do now?”
“Eat more chocolate?” Donna suggested.
“Chocolate later. Now, we cleanse our lives by writing down whatever we want to rid ourselves of on a piece of paper and burning it. Do you have a cauldron or something?” Grace turned to Donna.
Donna snorted out a laugh. “Sorry, my cauldron is out being repaired by the wizard. Will a fondue pot do?”
That comment elicited more faces from Grace, but they ended up all in a circle around the fondue pot with burning pieces of paper from Donna’s computer printer in their hands.
“I rid myself of my boss.”
“I rid myself of Max.” 
“I rid myself of not having enough money for a beach house.”
They collectively threw the papers into the fondue pot and watched them burn. And then watched the fire alarm lights in the apartment begin to flash as the sound deafened them.
“Uh, oh. What do I do?” Donna’s eyes opened wide.
“Douse it, I guess.” Belinda turned toward the kitchen to get some water just as Donna flung her cider into the pot to douse the flames, but apparently rum mixed with cider wasn’t good for fighting fires and the flames shot higher.
While Donna spun in circles looking for something else to throw onto the flames and Grace stood and watched, Belinda ran to the kitchen and soaked a dishtowel in water. She ran back and threw it over the pot.
By the time the firemen were banging on the door, the fire was out, although the smoke remained. 
Donna went to open the door as Belinda and Grace peeked under the towel to make sure the fire was really out. But their attention was definitely no longer on the pot when they heard Donna say, “Well, hello there.”
Belinda looked up to find two of the cutest firemen she had ever seen, suited up in full fire fighting gear, pushing their way passed Donna and into the apartment. She held up her hand to stop them. “It’s out. Everything is fine.”
At that, one hunk used his radio to call down to the truck to tell them the fire was out as Grace pushed her way forward, her hand extended to the other hunk.
“Thank you so much for coming. Let me introduce myself. I’m Grace. That’s Donna and this is Belinda. And you are?”
Belinda elbowed her. “This isn’t a cocktail party.”
He smiled at them. “I’m Antonio and that’s Troy.” 
Then he looked down at the table where candles, incense, herbs, a spell book, chocolate, mugs of cider and a bottle of rum surrounded the still smoking and scorched fondue pot. “What exactly happened in here?”
Donna rushed forward. “We were cleansing.”
The one introduced as Troy, who had O’Donnell written on his jacket, waved the smoke away and took a look into the pot. “Looks like it didn’t work.”
“Yeah. Sorry we brought you all the way here for nothing,” Belinda began.
“Yes, it would be a shame to waste a trip,” Donna interrupted her. “Would you like something to drink?”
Troy looked at her like she had offered to have his first born. With widened eyes, he blurted, “I’m engaged.”
The other one laughed at his fellow firefighter’s reaction until he realized that the attention had now turned to him. He held up both hands in defense. “I’m practically engaged, but thanks anyway. We, uh, gotta get going.” 
“Maybe another time. Thanks for coming.” Donna called out the door after their hastily retreating figures, and then sighed. “We should have gone down to the truck to thank the rest of them personally.” 
“Good idea. Do you think we can get down there before they leave?” Grace agreed, rummaging through her purse and applying the lipstick she’d found.
Belinda laughed. “You guys are crazy. And it’s late. I think I’m going to get going. It’s making me very nervous that Max hasn’t called in a huff yet.”
Donna hugged her at the door. “You be careful and call us if you need anything.”
“Here, take my pepper spray just in case.” Grace dug through her purse some more and handed it to her.
Belinda took it, doubting she would need it against Max, but you never knew. Better safe than sorry.
When she arrived at her door later, she realized she wouldn’t need the spray or anything else against Max because he’d never come home. She found his stuff still in the hall and a voicemail inside telling her he was working late and might not make it back at all that night.
Yeah, sure. She knew what he was working on and it wasn’t work. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with him tonight. And it was with that thought in her mind that she fell into a deep dream-filled sleep.


Chapter Six
The man turned cat often dreamed. And when he did, it was almost always of his life before the witch had cursed him. The battles in which he had fought. The women he had bedded. His family. His childhood. More recently, in the time since his woman had taken him home, he dreamed of her. What it would be like to touch her with human hands. How her breasts would tighten and pucker under his mouth. How tight and warm she would feel surrounding him. And how she would cry out when he brought her to climax, over and over again.
Sometimes in his dreams he’d place her on her hands and knees and take her from behind. Other times she would sit above him and ride him like a wild horse. Once he even dreamed they had showered together and made love in the hot steam of the bathroom. He wondered what a shower would feel like against human skin. Certainly like nothing he had ever experienced as a man a thousand years ago, back in the days of bathing in cold streams between battles.
But this dream, this was the most vivid dream he had ever experienced as man or beast. He could have sworn he was awake, but he couldn’t be. He couldn’t be awake, because he was a man, and he lay next to his woman, on her large bed with the fluffy coverings.
The Max-man was not there, probably would never be there again. He had seen to that. Since the Max-man was no more, last night he had jumped up onto the bed and snuggled next to his woman’s breast. Breathing in her scent, he’d fallen sound asleep. And then, in his dream, he woke and being a man, in his dream, he took his hand and stroked her face, brushing away a stray strand of her silken hair.
Her face felt warm beneath his touch and he craved a kiss. He touched his human mouth to hers, softly. He felt her breath as it caught in her throat, and her eyes opened. Her hand came up to touch his face, then tangled in his hair as she pulled his mouth down again to meet hers.
He kissed her deeper, letting his tongue explore her mouth. She tasted of mint for some reason. Perhaps that was what those commercials for toothpaste meant when they said ‘minty fresh’. Hmm. This truly was a vivid dream and he intended on enjoying every moment of it.
He let his hand wander down to her breast and felt the weight of it in his hand. She responded to his touch by pulling off her nightshirt, allowing him full access to her warm, naked body. He was briefly torn between taking her now, in case he awoke, and prolonging this ecstasy for as long as possible.
He decided fairly quickly on the latter and searched hidden, forbidden places with his fingers. She moaned and allowed him access to wherever he chose to go, and he chose to go many, many places.
She spread her legs for him as he lowered his head and tasted her. His fingers filled her. He heard her breath quicken, felt her muscles tighten around his fingers. His dreams had never been this real before. Her body gripped him as her orgasm quickened within her. He felt every hair in his head as she tugged at it with both hands to pull his mouth closer to her as she cried out.
When she calmed and finally released her hold on his head, he let his tongue explore further to find the puckered entrance lower. Perhaps next dream, he’d take her there. He considered what that would be like as he let his finger dip inside her tight hole. She tightened, but then relaxed for him.
He loved how she trusted him completely to not hurt her. He took that trust very seriously, even in his dreams, and made sure his touch was gentle as he pushed deeper and her body accepted him. He’d pretty much acknowledged that this was just one hell of a dream and didn’t think too much about the fact that he could feel each and every band of muscle within her as he breached them with his finger. All he cared was that it was extremely nice, dream or not.
But right now he wanted to be buried hilt deep within her and thrusting, so he crawled back up her body.
Kissing his way as he went, he raised himself above her.
His cock ached for her, and he let said appendage find its own way between her legs, sliding easily into her slick channel. He loved it that she was ready for him. In his dreams, she was always ready for him, but never had he felt so completely her warmth or so vividly smelled her scent.
Not like this.
She sighed as he raised her legs and sank deeper. He closed his eyes and held himself there. God, he never wanted this dream to end. But it would, they all did eventually. And before that happened, he fully intended on taking his own gratification.
With that in mind, he drove himself home over and over, hard, fast, until she cried out again in pleasure. Her fingers raked down his back, and he felt each and every scratch she left behind. Finally he exploded, spilling his seed deep within her. Panting as he lay on top of her he thought again, this was one hell of a dream.
 
 
She awoke in her king-sized bed tangled in the sheets and feeling extremely satisfied…and actually, a bit sore.
God, she’d had one hell of a dream. It must have been a combination of the rum, the thoughts of love spells and those two hunky fireman. Although, the man starring in her dream last night didn’t look like either one of them.
This one was a strong, dark haired man with the hard body and muscles of a warrior.  
She’d have to tell Grace that her red candle caused extremely vivid sex dreams. She remembered tangling her hands in his long hair, seeing those piercing blue eyes bore into hers as he loved her.
She rolled from her side to her back and smacked into a warm hard body. “Sorry, Black Cat,” she mumbled.
“No problem.” A man’s deep voice answered her. Her eyes opened wide. That was not Max’s voice. And that was definitely not Black Cat. A scream ripped from her throat, followed by many more.
The man leapt from the bed. Looking down at himself, his face showed as much shock as she felt. “What in the bloody hell…?” 
She did take a moment to consider his odd accent as she scrambled from the bed and sprinted for the door, still screaming.
He finally sprang to action. He grabbed her around the waist and covered her mouth with one very large, strong hand.
“Hush, woman. I can’t think with all your screaming.” He breathed in deep. “How the hell did this happen?”
Heart pounding, she watched him look over at the rumpled bed that still smelled of sex. He shook his head, still holding her tightly, and whispered, “It wasn’t a dream.”
She was nearing the point of hyperventilation when he turned his attention back to her. “Please don’t be frightened. I would never hurt you.” He glanced back at the bed again. “And as for that. I would never have done that either. I thought it was just a dream. An exceptionally good dream.”
She tried to ask a question, which came out only as a mumble from behind his hand.  
He slowly uncovered her mouth, but kept his hand close by. She didn’t scream again. Instead, she asked, “Who are you? How did you get in here?” 
“My name is Lar. And as for how I got here, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He laughed.
The phone rang, startling her. He continued to hold her tightly through the five long rings until the machine picked up. Belinda heard her own voice recite the outgoing message. Then, following the beep, she heard Donna’s voice say, “Oh my God. Belinda, you will never believe this. I got into work this morning, and found out that I won five hundred dollars in the baby pool. Everyone put in twenty bucks and then guessed what day the receptionist’s baby would be born. I said midnight on Halloween and I won. I think that money spell we did last night actually worked. I’m going out right now to buy a lottery ticket. I’ll try you at work. Bye.”
Belinda wasn’t actually convinced that Donna winning the baby pool proved their spell had worked. Although, she had wished for love over a red passion candle and was currently being held by a naked man who had been quite passionate.
Her heart still pounded with fear, but he made no move to hurt her. But he also had not told her how he got in. 
The phone rang again. She looked longingly at it. If only he would release his grip enough so she could break free and grab it to yell for help.
She heard Grace’s voice. “Belinda. Call Donna or me, we’re worried about you. Those stupid spells we did last night actually worked. I got into work this morning to find my boss cleaning out her desk and crying. She got fired. And you were right. Karma is punishing me for cursing her. They just gave me her entire workload. I’m probably going to be here all night trying to just sort through it. I’ll try your cell phone. Call us.” 
Belinda took another look at the man. Lar. Wow. Had she actually conjured him?
She looked into those blue eyes again, and there was something very familiar there. Oh, no. She recognized those eyes. She looked around the room. Her black cat was nowhere to be seen. She swallowed hard, her legs feeling weak. Good thing this muscle man was holding her or she probably would have crumpled to the floor.
Taking in a deep breath, she released it slowly. “Tell me how you got here. I think there’s a good chance I’ll believe you.” 
He smiled sadly. “I got here when you brought me home with you. I was, I am, your black cat.”
She closed her eyes and digested this information. 
She had turned her beloved Black Cat into this man before her. What the hell was she going to do now? 
Unexpectedly, tears filled her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks. 
He wiped them gently from her face. “Don’t weep, my lady.” 
My lady. Not only had she conjured herself an incredibly hot sex machine of a man, she’d made him from another century. She’d have to stop reading those historical romances.
“I’m sorry. It’s stupid, it’s just, I miss my Black Cat.” She wiped at her eyes.
He shook his head. “Your black cat is right here.” He stroked her hair from her face and kissed her forehead gently. “I’m right here.”
Damn it. Why did the perfect man have to be magical? Of course she couldn’t keep him. How would she explain him? He didn’t even have a social security number. She’d have to turn him back.
A loud banging on the door and the sound of Max’s angry voice interrupted her thoughts and regrets.
The man, Lar, looked angry at the sound and growled, “Max-man.” He released her and strode, gloriously naked, out of the bedroom and right to the front door.
Belinda threw on a robe and scrambled after him. She watched as he flipped the locks and flung open the door.
The look on Max’s face would have been funny if the situation weren’t so dire. He practically sputtered. 
“Wwwhat the hell?” Max’s gaze dropped to take in Lar—all of him, and she could attest to the fact there was a lot of him to see. She’d conjured a very well endowed lover for herself. Max peered at her around the wall of naked muscled man in front of him. “You’re whoring around…with him?”
Lar’s eyes flashed with anger as he lifted Max by the collar and smashed him against the doorframe. “You will never speak to my woman like that again. You will never speak to her at all, ever again. You have insulted her and belittled her for the last time. Take your things, go to your nympho-whore and never return. Do you understand me?”
She watched Max’s eyes bulge as he nodded.
“Good.” Lar dropped him none too gently to his feet, gave him one careless shove back into the hall, and then shut the door in his face.
Belinda stood, open-mouthed and practically melting. She never thought she liked the caveman type. She was wrong.  


Lar took a calming breath and turned away from the door and the sounds of the fool Max-man struggling with his baggage in the hallway. He walked back to his woman. “I apologize for his rudeness.”
She was practically quivering. It was the shock, he knew. It was too much for her to handle all at once. He pulled her into his arms and held her gently. He heard her mumble against his chest. “I don’t want to turn you back into a cat. But how can I keep you?” 
He pulled back and looked down at her pained expression. Lar knew his woman thought she and her friends had somehow conjured him with their ridiculous gift shop novelty spell book. But since waking to find himself changed back, he had pieced together what had more likely happened.
The battle that injured him took place exactly one thousand years ago, on Samhain, what modern people called Halloween. And although the words the witch used to curse him were unfamiliar to him at the time, he remembered them exactly. He’d never forget them. He’d picked up enough knowledge over his long life to recognize now that she’d cursed him in Latin.
As soon as he could, he would find a Latin dictionary and look up the words the witch had spoken. He’d bet he would find she had destined him to be a cat for only one thousand years. Only. Ha!
He thought briefly of Sebastian, hopeful that he too had been turned back. But at the moment, his woman needed all of his attention. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“What’s wrong, my love?”
“I’m frightened.”
“Surely not of me?” That thought cut him like a knife.
She shook her head. “No. I’m afraid of losing you.”
That thought pleased him above all else. He ran his hand up and down her back. “I have a lot to explain to you, my love. But take comfort in this thought. I am with you now, and I will never leave you. I knew the moment I first saw you standing before my cage that my future lie with you.” He bent to softly kiss her trembling lips. “You stole my heart then, and I gladly let you.”
She reached up and pulled his mouth down to hers again. When she finally broke away, he said, “I know you loved your black cat. Can you also love the man?”
“Yes.” She shook her head and laughed. “It’s crazy, I know. But yes.”
He smiled and leaned down, intent on claiming his woman as his own once again. His hardened cock was more than ready.
She blocked his kiss with one raised finger against his lips. “Um, maybe now is the time for your explanation.”
He nodded. He would explain, but he would make it quick. His cock was already bobbing with desire for her. 
“One thousand years ago, a vengeful witch turned me into a cat. I have lived that way until last night, when the spell expired. So you see, you didn’t turn me into a man. I always was one.”
She ran her hands up and down the muscles of his arms. “And what did you do when you were a man a thousand years ago?” 
“I wielded a sword for a living. And did it quite well, if I do say so.”
She pressed closer against him, smiled and raised a brow. “You still do.” 
He felt his face grow hot but couldn’t help but smile. 
Modern women were shameless, and he loved it. He scooped her up and as he carried her to the bedroom, he actually thought fondly of the witch whom had set him on this path a millennium ago. 
Sometimes a curse turned out to be a blessing, if you just gave it enough time.
The End 


FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS 
Chapter One
There was a clattering of the receiver and then, “Uh, hello?”
Judging by the grogginess of Jeff’s disembodied phone voice, Meg had woken him, but she didn’t feel bad about that. After all, she figured what she was offering would be worth his losing a little sleep.
“Hi. You wanna come over?” Meg purred in what she thought of as her irresistible, sex kitten voice.
“Why don’t you ever get horny earlier at night?” That sounded distinctly annoyed, which annoyed her even more. What the hell did he need to get to sleep early for? The next day was Saturday. Jeff didn’t have to work. He could sleep late in the morning.
“Who says I’m horny? Maybe I just want some company to watch TV.”
“Meg, I know a booty call when I hear one. It’s after midnight. One civilized person does not call another after twelve unless one, someone is dead or two, they want sex.”
And so what? Since no one was dead, it was obviously the latter. She didn’t see any problem. Didn’t it just figure that Meg might have possibly found the one and only man in the world who didn’t single-mindedly think about sex and how to get it twenty-four hours a day. “Fine. Never mind.”
He let out a deep sigh. “Don’t be like that. I’m not saying no or anything, but can’t you come over here for a change?”
Meg hated losing the home team advantage. It was cold outside. She would have to get dressed. And Jeff, being young, single and male, lived in a typical bachelor pad. Nothing to eat. No diet soda. Science experiments living under the couch and in the shower. Besides, all her stuff was here at her own nice, comfy place. The list of reasons went on and on…
He noticed her hesitation. “What? My apartment isn’t good enough for you?”
“No, that’s not it.” Not exactly anyway. “Um. When did you change your sheets last?”
His sarcastic laughter resonated through the phone. “I thought you said you only wanted to watch TV. What does it matter when I changed my sheets?”
A little nookie was not worth this much humiliation. She could service herself with a bit of help from the battery-operated friend she kept in the nightstand. She’d done it before and was quite sure she’d do it again.
“Never mind. Good night. Sorry I woke you,” Meg added even though she wasn’t sorry in the least.
Having known Jeff forever, well, actually, since they were both in eighth grade at Wilmont Middle School, she didn’t hang up the phone, but instead waited for his predictable resignation-filled sigh. She wasn’t disappointed. “Okay. I’ll be over in fifteen minutes.”
Perfect. Meg smiled. “I’ll see you then.”
After disconnecting the call, she flew into action. First hiding the steamy romance novel she had been reading, which had thrown her into such a physically needy state to begin with. Jeff would only tease her on her choice of reading material if he saw it. Then she ran to the bathroom to brush her teeth and scrub the day’s faded makeup off her face. The apartment would just have to remain as it was, there wasn’t time to fix both her and her home, and it was still worlds better than his place anyway.
The good thing about Jeff was he didn’t expect much in the way of preparation on her part. It was pretty convenient actually. For instance, in the dead of winter when the apartment was chilly because the landlord wouldn’t turn up the heat, she could remain in her favorite soft and faded flannel pajamas, warm and toasty.  On those cold nights, while having sex with Jeff she wouldn’t even take off her pajama top or socks, just the bottoms.
Tonight, she didn’t need to do much more than clean the raccoon circles of old mascara from below her eyes and maybe run her fingers through her hair. She knew what to expect from him too. He would arrive in his favorite pair of old sweatpants and a t-shirt, tasting of toothpaste, hair a mess, but the important part would be hard and ready for her.
When it came down to the serious stuff, the reason she’d called him, he knew exactly how to get her off and always did before he took care of himself. A nice predictable lover, that was Jeff. More importantly, there was no messy, emotional, romantic entanglement, just a friendship as comfortable as her favorite old pair of sneakers. Broken in. No surprises. He was a known constant in a sea of unknowns. With Jeff, she got none of the pain you risked with either a hot new pair of high heels or a hot new guy.
This “friends with benefits” thing she had going with him really was the perfect arrangement…almost.
Admittedly, it wasn’t exactly as exciting as falling madly in love with someone who made your pulse race at the very thought of seeing them, but hey, you had to compromise sometimes.
Looking at herself in the mirror, Meg pulled the rubber band from her unruly dark curls and fluffed them into some semblance of order. Her dark eyes stared soulfully back at her from the mirror as she ran the tissue beneath them one more time to remove the last smudges of makeup. Then she paused and continued to evaluate her own reflection. She was happy, wasn’t she?  Twenty-something and single, she had an all right job and a cute apartment all to herself. She struggled with her weight but managed to maintain a size at the low-end of the double digits. She had her health, her family and her friends, and sex whenever she needed it. Really, what more could she ask for?
She didn’t have time to contemplate further the odd feeling that something was missing as the doorbell rang.
When she opened the door, good old reliable Jeff, sandy-colored hair sticking up like he’d just rolled out of bed, stumbled in. He dumped his jacket onto a chair and headed directly for the bedroom. When she didn’t immediately follow, he stopped in the doorway and turned. “What’s wrong?” The brow above one of his baby blue eyes was still creased from his pillow.
Meg shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought you might kiss me, or say hello or something, before we went directly to bed and fucked.”
His eyebrows shot all the way up to meet the straight hair messily covering his forehead. He looked at her strangely for a second, as though he was surprised she’d want a bit of romance from him. “Oh really? I can do romantic if you suddenly want wooing, but you have to call before midnight. At this hour, what you see is what you get. Now are you coming to bed or not?”
With a soft humph, she followed him and his trail of discarded clothing into the bedroom. Meg was just in time to get the view of his very tight and, as she knew from hands-on experience, very squeezable white ass as his sweats followed the t-shirt he’d already thrown on the floor and he crawled into her bed. Parts in her lower anatomy clenched in anticipation of what was to come.
She had to give him credit, what Jeff lacked in the fashion department he made up for in what lie underneath. Hmm. Were his shoulders wider and his waist narrower than before? “You been working out a lot lately?” she asked.
He grinned like a schoolboy. “Yeah. Can you tell?”
Typical man. She nodded and smiled at the way he was so pleased she’d noticed. “You look good.”
Meg pulled down the covers and crawled next to him.
No, this was not the perfect arrangement she reminded herself while slipping off her bottoms, but it sure had its benefits. She adjusted the pillows the way she liked them for sex and spread her legs for Jeff as he nestled himself between them, already erect and ready like she knew he’d be. Good old Jeff.
“Shit. Hold on.” Looking slightly ashamed, he rolled to the edge of the bed, grabbed for his sweatpants and pulled a foil packet out of the pocket.
Meg frowned. “What are you doing?”
One of the good things about being with Jeff was they didn’t need to use condoms. They had both been tested right after they started this arrangement and she was on the pill. Of course, they both agreed that if at any time either one of them were with someone else they would…
Meg’s sucked in a breath with a loud, painful wheeze. “You’ve been with someone else.”
At least he had the decency to look contrite, almost horrified actually, as he nodded.
She was beyond shocked. “When?”
“Last Friday night.” Obviously anticipating this wasn’t going to be a short conversation, Jeff threw the unopened foil package on the nightstand and leaned back against the headboard, hands clasped remorsefully in his naked and rapidly deflating lap.
“While I was visiting my parents in Florida?”
“Yes. I was out drinking with some of the guys from work and this chick at the bar was giving me the eye. I didn’t even notice at first. The other guys did and invited her over. She’d obviously had too much to drink.” He shrugged. “I didn’t intend for anything to happen, but she was too drunk to drive and she lives on my way home. I ended up driving her home.”
Jeff didn’t elaborate about what happened when they arrived at her place. He didn’t have to. Meg felt ill. She must have looked ill too, because Jeff jumped to defend himself. “Hey, we agreed we’re not exclusive. Remember? We’re fuck buddies, Meg. Rule number one clearly states that it’s okay if either of us hooks up elsewhere as long as we wear protection. And you were gone for two whole weeks and didn’t even call me once to say you’d gotten there alive and your plane didn’t crash or something. How was I to know you weren’t with some southern boy down there?”
“Well, I wasn’t,” Meg spat. In fact, she hadn’t even considered it.
“Well, I didn’t know that.”
She let out an unattractive sound. “Yeah, like that would have stopped you.” 
Jeff’s mumbled something that sounded like, “It might have.”
“What?” 
“Nothing. Look, I’m here now, aren’t I? This doesn’t have to affect you and me at all. We’re still friends who scratch each other’s itch once in a while, just like we agreed months ago. Right?”
Did that sound sarcastic? Bitter, maybe? And what right did he have to be either? He was the one having sex with someone else. Meg folded her arms across her chest defensively. Yeah, that itch thing had sounded good when they’d come up with it. So had Rule Number One. Neither was sounding so good anymore.
Meg remembered the night vividly, the beginning of the “friends with benefits” agreement. She’d rented a DVD. A chick flick that Jeff had grudgingly agreed to watch with her since he’d had no other plans for the night.
It turned out the movie had some pretty hot and heavy love scenes in it, leaving Jeff with a hard-on he tried to hide with the throw pillow and leaving Meg wet and wanting.
It was that night the “two friends scratching an itch” theory had been born. No strings. Still friends. Still single and available, but they fucked each other when the need arose. Yeah, it had seemed like a really good idea then.
Not so hot right now though, since she’d always thought she’d be the one to find someone else first. Maybe even fall in love and then she would end this side thing with Jeff, while still keeping his friendship, of course. She’d probably even have him be part of her wedding party when the time came. The best of both worlds, sex and friendship. But to have him beat her to it...
Meg swallowed the lump suddenly in her throat. “Are you going to see her again?”
He shrugged casually. How the hell could he be casual about this? “I have her number. Maybe. I don’t know. Why? I thought you wanted—”
“I know what you thought,” Meg bit out.
“And?”
“And I don’t know.” Meg had a bad feeling she was pouting.
Jeff crossed his own arms. “They are your rules, Meg. You made them. You have to live by them too, just like I do.”
The bastard had her there. But dammit, this was no time to be logical. She screwed her mouth up unhappily. “I know.”
Jeff let out a loud breath. “So does this mean I came all the way over here, after being woken up out of a dead sleep, so I can get bitched at and not have sex?”
She considered the nauseous feeling in her belly and the strange tightness in her chest. She was totally not in the mood anymore. “Yup, that’s what it means.”
He spun to face the opposite wall and yanked the covers over his shoulder. “Fine. But I’m not going back out in the cold. If you can’t stand to be in the same bed with me, you can sleep on the couch since you’re the one that initiated this tonight and then started changing the rules.”
“Yeah, well…fine.” The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach intensified as she thought how the rules sucked.
She’d be damned before she gave up her own bed to him. He would just have to deal with her being in it and mad, right next to him. She pulled her pants back on and flicked off the light switch.
Slumping back against the pillow she crossed her arms in the darkness with defiance and held on tightly to her anger which only meant that even an hour later sleep still wouldn’t come even though Jeff had been peacefully snoring since his head hit the pillow. Men.
Her head spun with visions of him being with someone else. It made her never want to sleep with him again, but at the same time, had her fearing that exact thing.
Meg flopped over one more time, as violently and noisily as she could while cushioned by flannel and goose down. This time, the snoring stopped and she felt him roll toward her.
“What’s wrong?” His voice sounded husky and sleepy.
“I can’t sleep.” Swallowing her pride, the fear of losing him completely made her add, “and I’m sorry.”
He reached out one arm and pulled her until her back nestled against his chest. “I’ll forgive you.”
Staring into the darkness lit only by the nightlight in the hall, Meg let out a huff. “But honestly, Jeff. Are you telling me if we can’t fuck because I am out of town, you’re going to go out and pick up the first, possibly disease-ridden chick you find in a bar and take her home?”
She sat up and flipped on the bedside light, flopping back hard and staring at him accusingly.
He sighed. “I doubt she’s disease-ridden. She’s a nurse. And I thought you were sorry, so why are you still bitching?”
What could Meg say to that? Because I never thought you would find someone else before I did. That sounded about as bitchy as you could get and she hated to prove him right. Instead, she bit her cheek and remained silent.
He pulled her back against him again.
“Mmm. Bitchy or not, I want you.” Jeff pressed his erection against her hip and she felt exactly how true his statement was. “Wanna play?”
She didn’t object as he began to kiss her neck and then slid one hand into the pants of her pajamas. He snaked his finger between her clenched thighs, found and connected with her clit and she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. Hurt, angry, jealous but still when he touched her there, yes, she wanted to play. She just didn’t want to admit it.
He chuckled. “Ah, the silent treatment. That’s okay. Your pussy has told me everything I need to know.”
Meg’s mouth screwed up in distaste. “I hate when you use that word.”
“I know. That’s why I use it. What word would you prefer? Cunt?” She heard the laughter in his voice.
“No.” Definitely not.
“Vagina, then?”
Eeewww. She shook her head. “Too clinical.” And something a nurse might say.
“Well, you think about it and let me know, but for your information, your female part that shall not be named is very, very wet.”
“Yeah? Well that has nothing to do with you. I was reading a trashy novel before you got here.”
“Ah ha. Finally, the real reason for the midnight booty call is revealed.” He nuzzled her neck, nipping gently with his teeth, driving her crazy as he slid two fingers inside the body part in question.
Her head lolled to one side as she managed to grumble through the pleasure, “Fine, next time I won’t call you. I’ll take care of myself.”
“Mmm. I like the thought of you pleasuring yourself. Where are those toys of yours anyway?”
“Why?” she asked suspiciously. After six months of their being together sans electronic devices, now he suddenly wondered where they were? “Did your little sleazy barfly nurse have toys?”
“Meg…” His voice held a warning while his hand stopped its blissful ministrations and began to pull away.
She grabbed his wrist to keep him there. “Wait. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll consider letting it slide this time if you break out your vibrator.” He waggled his eyebrows playfully. He sat up and with both hands pulled off the pajama bottoms she’d put back on after their earlier fight.
She couldn’t figure out why he would be interested in her vibrator, but at the moment, in spite of her mad, she was too horny to care. She rolled toward the bedside table, slid open the drawer and pulled out the requested item. Her favorite big girl toy of them all, the pink Rabbit vibrator, which she had nicknamed Bunny.
“As seen on Sex and the City,” the package had read. She figured if it was good enough for those girls, it was good enough for her and she hadn’t been disappointed. In the pleasure department, to date it had proved to be the best thing without a pulse a girl could get between her thighs.
Jeff smiled at the sight and reached for the nightstand to grab the condom again. Her anger returned at the visual reminder of what he’d done last Friday night.
Turning back to her, he took one look at her face and demanded, “Stop. I’m sorry I did it and I will get tested again as soon as possible. But for now, we’re stuck using a condom. Okay?”
Sometimes it was a curse he knew her so well. Even if she wanted to hide what she was feeling, she couldn’t. He could read it all over her face. She’d learned never to play poker against him.
“Did you at least use a condom with the nurse?” The last word came out sounding like a curse.
“Yes.”
“Do you carry them around with you at all times in case you get lucky?” That came out sounding pretty nasty also, but the thought he might be out looking for sex with others made her sick.
He sighed deeply. “No, I don’t. She had them at her place.”
“Figures,” Meg grumbled.
He let out a short laugh. “What do you have against nurses anyway?”
She hated being laughed at when she was mad. It made her even angrier. “Nothing.”
At least, she didn’t used to. Apparently, it was just this one particular nurse…and the fact she’d fucked Jeff in particular.
Jeff continued to run his hand up and down her bare leg while they spoke, causing her skin to prickle with goose bumps. Finally Meg’s need and curiosity won out over her displeasure. “Why did you want Bunny out?”
“Bunny? You named it?” He laughed again.
She looked away, embarrassed. “Yes. And stop laughing at me.”
“I think it’s cute.” Jeff squeezed her leg and she looked up in time to see his warm smile.
“Why did you want him?” she repeated.
He grinned wider. “You’ll see. Trust me.”
Meg frowned again. Good old predictable Jeff was proving himself to be not so predictable any longer. She wasn’t sure she liked this new turn of events at all.
He didn’t give her time to consider it further as he leaned in closer. “Now come here and be quiet so I can kiss you.” 
She scowled until the pressure of his mouth forced hers into a different position entirely. As he kissed her deeply, his tongue sliding between her lips and stroking in and out slowly against hers, simulating what he would soon do to her body, she let her anger go. It was hard to stay mad at Jeff when he kissed her like that.
Remembering their first kiss ever, that night months ago, she realized Jeff’s kisses had been her downfall to begin with.
The strong, slightly rough touch of his hands roamed, pushing her top up. He had to break the kiss to pull the shirt off over her head. He gazed at her nakedness. Her nipples were puckering in the chill air, but he soon bent to warm her with his mouth.
He took his time, nibbling on each breast, one by one, until her eyes closed with satisfaction. His fingers replaced his mouth, tugging gently on each nipple as he kissed a trail up her neck and ran his tongue along the whorls of her ear, sending a shiver through her.
His hands were big, but good at finding the spots that drove her crazy. He so now, sliding down her body to slip two long fingers deep inside her, stroking her G-spot just right. She angled her pelvis up off the bed as the familiar pressure began to build within her.
The only thought in Meg’s head was how badly she wanted to come, until he whispered, “I want to fuck you in the ass while Bunny is in your pussy.”
That proposition shot her concentration all to hell.
Eyes opened wide, she shoved him far enough away that she could look him in the face and evaluate if he was joking or just crazy. “What?”
“I want—”
“I heard you the first time.” She interrupted him. “Are you talking…anal sex?” She whispered the last two words.
He nodded, looking hopeful. They’d never discussed that before. Meg didn’t know where the hell this suggestion had come from, but she had an idea and she didn’t like it at all. “Did you do that with her?”
His expression changed and he pulled back. “No.”
“Then where did you suddenly come up with this idea after all the times we’ve been together and good old fashioned sex has been good enough?”
Okay, she could admit to herself the idea of a little anal play had crossed her mind a few times over her sexual lifetime. Jeff had even probed a fingertip there once or twice while performing oral sex on her. She hadn’t objected. In fact, it felt kind of interesting, but that was it. When it came down to actually suggesting more, she’d always chickened out.
“One of the guys from work was talking about it at the bar. He says his girlfriend loves it. She told him the double penetration of the vibrator and his cock is amazing.”
One of the guys at the bar. Where Jeff picked up the tramp. Before he fucked her. “So then why didn’t you do this double penetration thing with your nurse that night? Why waste all this time waiting around for me to come home from my trip?” Maybe the barfly didn’t own any toys, Meg thought nastily.
He got a hurt expression in his eyes. “Because this is something you do with a person you know, Meg. I wanted my first time to be with someone I was comfortable with and cared about. Not a stranger. I wanted it to be with you. Okay?”
In spite of herself, she melted at his sincerity.
Maybe she was still special in his life, even after his romp with the tramp. “Okay.”
Jeff’s eyes opened wide. He looked like a kid who’d just seen the ice cream truck pull onto his block. “Really? We can try it?”
She couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Yeah.” He leaned forward to give her a kiss until she stopped him. “Wait, you never had regular anal sex with anybody before?”
“No. Well, not really, but kind of. And before you ask, no, not with her. With my college girlfriend.”
“Scary Mary?”
Jeff’s lips twitched as he tried not to smile at Meg’s longstanding nickname for his ex. “Yes.”
“And?”
He shrugged. “She got scared and made me stop before I even got the head in.”
“Oh.” Meg lowered her gaze. Not that she would ever wish to have anything in common with Scary Mary but that was her exact fear too. That she would freak out and make him stop. “How do you know it’s going to work with me this time?”
He grinned. “Because my coworker gave me some pointers.”
Pointers? She raised a brow, nervous but sparing a moment to wish she could have been a fly on the wall for that conversation. “Such as?” 
Jeff looked mischievous. “It’ll be more fun if I show you. Trust me.”
Meg hesitated before finally agreeing. She trusted him. “Okay.” 
His grin widened. “Good. Now, roll over.”
Uh, oh.
Naked, ass in the air, Meg had to wonder what the hell she had agreed to. She didn’t have time to argue though as she felt Jeff’s hands run over her tenderly before spreading her cheeks wide. When she became aware of the warm, wet feel of his tongue teasing her hole, she released a low moan, echoed by Jeff behind her.
The unexpected sensation felt good. Weird, but really, really good.
His tantalizing probing continued until his tongue was replaced by the pressure of one finger pushing gradually into her. She tensed, muscles clenching in fear with this new invasion.
“Relax. We’ll go very slowly. I promise.” Jeff’s voice soothed her nerves, but not as much as his other hand snaking around in front of her to circle her clit did. She closed her eyes and released another moan as he pressed the finger in her ass deeper while increasing the pressure on the sensitive bud of nerves between her thighs. Every feeling seemed intensified threefold by the combination of both sensations.
“Ready for more?” he asked huskily. She nodded and he slid a second finger, slick with his saliva, inside her ass.
She shuddered out a breath. 
“How’s it feel, Meg? Tell me.” By his voice, she could tell he was breathing nearly as fast as she was at the moment.
“Fine. Good,” she managed to choke out between pants.
He moved behind her until his mouth was against her hair, his breath tickling her ear and sending a shiver through her. “I’m gonna fuck you the normal way for a bit while my fingers are in your ass so you get used to it. Okay?” His voice sounded gruff as he told her what he planned to do.
Meg nodded and swallowed hard in anticipation as a tingle ran up her spine. Both of his hands left her briefly as he put on the condom and then moved back into position behind her.
She released a low moan as his cock slid deep inside her. Jeff set a steady rhythm while his fingers pressed inside the entrance of her ass. All the while, he tantalized her clit with the other hand, pushing her closer to orgasm.
His cock slid easily in and out of her. “God, Meg. You’re so wet.”
She couldn’t comment on that. Being totally filled was sending her over the edge fast. “Jeff, I’m gonna come,” she breathed, face down in the pillow, arms quivering so badly she was unable to support herself any longer.
“Hold on, Meg. I want to be in your ass when you come.”
She nodded, hoping he’d be quick before she remembered to be afraid.
He was faster than she could have imagined. Too soon, the pressure of the head of his cock, wet with her own juices, replaced his fingers. In mere seconds he was pressing slowly inside, firm but gentle, stretching her. It caused what felt almost like a burning sensation, until he pushed past the tight muscles at her entrance. Then he slid in farther.
Meg heard his groan as he slipped inside her and held there, perfectly still. He gasped. “Oh my God. You feel amazing. Where’s the vibe?”
Feeling blindly around the bed, she located and grasped Bunny, holding him up in one hand for Jeff to see.
“Put it in your pussy and turn it on.”
Meg took a deep breath and did what he asked, sliding Bunny in to the hilt, while Jeff held himself deep in her ass. She felt for and hit the “on” button and had to brace her head against the pillow as she was thrown into one of the most intense orgasms of her life.
She couldn’t hear much past her own cries, which soon turned to screams of what could only be referred to as ecstasy, but on the edge of her consciousness she was aware of Jeff behind her. He gripped her hips and was making some pretty uncharacteristically loud noises of his own as he thrust into her. Finally, plunging deeply inside of her one final time, he shuddered, groaned and then let his head fall limply against her back.
On the edge of her consciousness, Meg guessed she could have kept going…or actually coming…until Bunny’s batteries ran out but since Jeff was done and judging from the weight of him crushing her and his heavy breathing, exhausted and spent for now, she turned her little electronic friend off and slid him out.
Breathless, weak and still shaky from the orgasm, she still practically bubbled with excitement. “Oh my God. That was the most intense thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Could you feel it? Did you feel Bunny? Could you feel me coming?” She twisted and tried to see Jeff’s face over her shoulder but couldn’t.
She felt him laugh against her back. “Oh, yeah. I felt it all. Bunny, you, everything. Bunny was vibrating against me was you were throbbing and squeezing me so tight I could barely move. Wow.”
He slid his now softened cock slowly from her and rolled over, still breathing heavily. Finally, he hoisted himself off the bed and padded barefoot to the bathroom, she assumed to dispose of the condom—see, another reason those things were annoying. She was alone in her afterglow, but she still wanted to discuss the amazing sex they’d just had.
Finally, after a quick flush of the toilet and the sound of the water running in the sink, he returned. He laughed. “That’s something I would definitely like to repeat soon and often.”
She scowled. Yeah, now that she had broken his anal sex cherry, he would probably be doing it all over the place with everyone.
He crawled across the bed and kissed her on the tip of her nose. “If you’re willing, that is. Can we do it again sometime?”
Unwillingly, she felt herself smile. He wanted to do it again with her, not sleazy nurse chick. But still, he’d been with that other woman… Meg couldn’t seem to get over that. She shrugged. “I guess.”
Jeff raised a brow. “You guess? Sweetie, I haven’t heard sounds like that come out of you ever. Don’t even try to pretend you didn’t like it.”
She pouted, but couldn’t maintain the pout when she realized this was the first time he’d ever called her “sweetie”. Her heart beat a little faster. “I liked it.”
He smirked with satisfaction and plopped back against the headboard next to her. “Damn, just thinking about it has me hard again.” He turned his head toward her and waggled his eyebrows. “You up for another go? Your choice of positions this time.”
“I don’t know. Do you have another condom?” She imbued the last word with as much venom as she could muster.
Jeff rolled his eyes, clearly accepting her nastiness if it meant he could get laid again tonight. “Yes.”
“All right.” She let go of a bit of the anger, tucking it away to chew on later. Instead she began to consider which position she wanted to partake in since this time it was her choice. “Up against the wall. You holding me up. I want you to have to work for it.”
He smiled, shaking his head. “Fine. Get up. And might I add, you can be an evil witch?”
She smiled. Yes, she could be. One of her more lovable traits. 


Hours later, Meg was still unable to sleep. The memory of Jeff’s well-defined arm and chest muscles bunching as he supported her not inconsiderable weight, while her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him as he fucked her for an impressively long time, had her up for the remainder of the night.
And when the sun rose to the sound of his soft familiar snores beside her, she had only one thought left.
That being, fuck.
She liked him. Really liked him and not as just a friend. She wouldn’t let herself think that other word that started with “l”.
Meg reviewed the facts one more time in hopes of getting a different outcome this time. She felt jealous for the first time in their friendship ever. Tonight she’d lain awake for hours and couldn’t get him out of her mind. She’d spent considerable time during her insomnia planning on how and when to get him back in her bed again, as well as what she had in her lingerie drawer to wear for that next event.
How could she possibly be falling for him now?
This complicated everything.


Chapter Two
“I think I have a crush on Jeff.” 
Meg had hoped it was simply orgasm-induced euphoria and it would fade. But the next day, while she sat opposite her girlfriend Vicki and poked at the salad in front of her, it was still there, that feeling of unrest sitting smack over her heart.
 Vicki glanced up from her Asian Chicken Salad and shook her head. “I told you six months ago when you started this friends with benefits thing that you can not have sex with a guy on a regular basis and not develop deeper feelings for him. It’s impossible. Mother Nature didn’t build women to be able to do things like that. We were designed to be monogamous and hold the family unit together.”
 Meg sighed. She considered herself a feminist and didn’t like Vicki’s theory. Men could fuck without falling for the woman, so why couldn’t women? Then an idea struck her. She looked up hopefully. “Maybe I don’t have feelings for him. Perhaps it’s just jealousy. I didn’t think I liked him like that until I found out he’d slept with someone else.”
Vicki put down her fork and raised an eyebrow. “Jeff slept with someone else?”
Somehow her friend’s reaction did nothing to comfort Meg.
“Yeah, but it was an accident. She was drunk and I was out of town.” Why she felt the need to rationalize and defend Jeff to Vicki with his own lame excuses, Meg couldn’t explain.
Vicki didn’t comment, but her expression did it for her. Vicki had something to say but wasn’t saying it.
“What? You think he’s tired of me don’t you?” Meg accused.
“No, I don’t. Men are simply different than women when it comes to sex. That’s all.”
This again. “So you’re saying men are built to go around fucking a bunch of different women and not get attached but women are not?”
Vicki nodded. “Correct. Basically they were designed to spread their seed.”
“Great. Thanks. That makes me feel tons better.” The last thing Meg wanted to think about was Jeff spreading his seed everywhere, particularly between the nurse’s legs.
“Sorry. But I think the more important issue here is not that Jeff went out and got laid, but that you’re jealous about it.”
“Why?”
“It means you like him far more than you thought you did. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be jealous.”
That made far too much sense for her liking. Meg finally gave up and laid her fork on the table, realizing she wasn’t at all hungry. She buried her face in her hands. “What the hell am I going to do?”
“Go on a date with him. You’re already halfway into a relationship. You’re friends, you sleep together, you just skipped the dating part. So call and ask him to dinner or something.”
Sure they’d eaten together, tons of times, but they were meals, never dates. Suddenly in a panic at the idea of asking Jeff out and being rejected by him, Meg stared down at her cell phone. She’d left it lying on the table when she’d arrived so she would hear it in case Jeff called. Damn it. She had it bad. This sucked.
“What if I ask him out tonight and he already has a date?” What if he was going out with trampy barfly nurse?
“You won’t know until you ask.”
Panic gripped her. “I don’t know if I can.”
“I’m telling you, invite him over for a nice home cooked meal. Show him what a real relationship with you can be like, one that involves more than booty calls. And while you’re at it, you can gently feel him out about his feelings toward you.”
When Meg made no move, Vicki picked up the phone, scrolled through Meg’s contact list. She hit send and held it out to her. Meg remained frozen.
“Better take it. It’s ringing.”
Shit. Meg grabbed the phone and got it to her ear just in time to hear Jeff’s voice say, “Hello.”
“Hey.”
“Hey, Meg. What’s up?”
She swallowed hard. “Um, do you want to do something tonight?”
Vicki scowled deeply at Meg’s lame invitation. 
“Sorry. I can’t. I have plans. Rain check?”
“Um, sure. I’ll call you. Bye.” Meg disconnected the call as quickly as she could with shaking hands and glared at Vicki.
He had a date with someone else. Maybe she’d already lost him, just when she finally discovered she actually wanted him. Now what the hell was she going to do? 


One long, sleepless, harrowing week later, Meg stood opposite Jeff, who sat at the table in her apartment. He looked as relaxed as Meg was nervous.
God, she hated the entire male species.
Heart unexplainably pounding, Meg walked past Jeff as he sniffed the air after her. “Are you wearing perfume?” He sounded surprised.
“What? No. I mean, yes. Maybe. Why?” Meg could kick herself, stuttering like a schoolgirl, and around Jeff, of all people. Jeff who probably spent last Saturday night, and every night in between, fucking his nurse, for all she knew. Meg probably should be happy he made time and bothered to come over and eat with her.
He looked at her as if she were losing her mind and shrugged. “No reason. You smell good. That’s all.”
“Oh. Um. Thanks.”
He thought she smelled good. Why the hell did that make her happy? She reminded herself that he probably said the same thing to his floozy too.
She grabbed the two plates she’d prepared from the kitchen counter and carried them to the dining table.
Jeff looked her up and down. “Is that a new skirt?”
Did she tell him she had tried on practically everything in her closet to find the perfect outfit for tonight and had finally found this ultra-short mini skirt she’d bought years ago shoved on a shelf with the tags still on it? Should she tell him she hoped it, combined with the knee-length high-heeled boots, would make him drool, forget about the nurse and instead think of nothing but bending her over the dining table as he did wicked things to her?
“This? Nope. Had it for years.”
He raised a brow. “Oh? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear it before. It’s nice.”
Meg’s mouth twisted in a scowl. Nice had not been the look she was going for.
Jeff looked down at the dinner plate she plunked harder than necessary in front of him. Ignoring that, he commented, “This looks good. Thanks.”
It should look good. Everything had better be more than good. She’d spent the entire afternoon food shopping, cleaning the apartment, preparing the meal and then fixing herself up—hair, makeup, perfume, a special outfit, right down to the brand new and incredibly uncomfortable thong underwear—all in anticipation of his arrival.
“Good. Great. Hope you like it.” She plopped down in her chair with a huff and took a large gulp of red wine.
Apparently, her nerves were making her cranky this evening. Acting ornery was probably not the best way to win a new boyfriend. Too bad her mouth and her brain sometimes, all right, often, failed to communicate.  Jeff glanced at her with a raised brow before he cut into his painstakingly homemade lasagna that she hoped had “good cook and potential girlfriend” written all over it.
She watched closely as he took the first bite and swallowed. He dug right in for a second mouthful but the high praise and confessions of love she’d hoped for didn’t come.
Finally, he looked up with a frown and gestured toward her untouched dish with his fork. “Aren’t you eating?”
“I had a big lunch.” She lied, rubbing her belly as if it were full for effect.
He nodded. “Well you’re missing out. This is great.”
A bit happier, she digested that compliment and decided to spin it to her advantage.
“You know what else was great? That sex last week. Huh?” 
The fork halted halfway to Jeff’s mouth as he looked up at her with surprise. “Um, yeah. It was.”
“I wouldn’t mind doing that every night. How about you?” Shit, she sounded like one of the guys in the locker room or something. She might as well slap him on the rear end and then hit the showers.
Jeff laid the fork back down on his dish and stared at her. “What’s up, Meg. You’re acting strangely tonight.”
“Nothing’s up.” Her voice sounded a little pitchy in her own ears. He continued to wait and watch and she caved. “It’s…I just…” She sighed and started over. “You know the rules we set up when we started this thing between us.”
Jeff nodded. “Yes.” 
“Like that rule about the two of us not being exclusive, for example?” she continued in what she hoped sounded like a casual voice.
He raised a brow. “Yes, I’m familiar with that particular rule.”
Yeah, she bet he was. She remembered the nurse. “Well, I was wondering if maybe we should reevaluate all the rules, like maybe every six months or so, just to make sure we’re still happy with them.”
He nodded very slowly. “It’s been about six months since we started this thing, hasn’t it?”
“Has it?” She feigned ignorance, squinting at the ceiling and pretending to count. “Yeah, I guess it has been. You’re right.”
Jeff continued to scrutinize her a bit too closely. “Okay. We’ll reevaluate. So tell me, what are your feelings about the exclusivity rule, for instance?”
Heart pounding, she did her best to shrug casually.
“Well, I really hadn’t thought about it much, but since you asked… I guess if we’re both enjoying being with one another, we should consider becoming exclusive. But on the other hand if, for example, you were getting bored with us being together, or you’re interested in someone else, then maybe that rule about being free to sleep with other people should stand.” Meg couldn’t bring herself to ask if he was interested in someone else so instead she asked, “So, are you bored with us?”
She held her breath and waited what seemed like an eternity for him to speak.
“Are you bored with us?” Jeff asked, his voice tinged with something she couldn’t identify.
“I asked you first.”
After an agonizingly long moment, Jeff shook his head. “No. I’m not bored.”
“I’m not either. Especially after last week, I mean, that was great.” She realized she was babbling.
Jeff still watched her. “I agree. So what exactly are you suggesting, Meg?”
This was it. Do or die. She took a deep breath and launched head first into what could end up coming back to haunt her if he didn’t feel the same way. “That maybe we should consider becoming exclusive.”
She thought she saw his mouth twitch, but it was too quick to be sure.
“But that would make us boyfriend and girlfriend, not just fuck buddies anymore, wouldn’t it?”
Didn’t he want to be girlfriend and boyfriend? Maybe the nurse was already his girlfriend. She was stupid to even bring this up. “Well, no, not necessarily…unless you wanted to be, of course. And if you did, then that would be fine with me. Or not. Whatever.” Damn. Way to play it cool, Meg.
Jeff chewed on his lip before saying, “Meg. I need to know. Is this all about your being jealous of the nurse?”
Meg stifled a groan. She hated he knew her so well.
“Jealous? Me? No. I’m not jealous.”
“Meg…”
Meg let out a huge sigh. “Yes. Okay. I’m jealous as hell. When I called you last Saturday and you said you had plans already…” She let the sentence trail off, unable, no more unwilling, to tell him how devastated she felt. “And if it was only jealousy, I could probably handle it, but I’m afraid it’s more.”
Jeff was suddenly out of his seat and standing beside her, pulling her up out of her chair so she could look him eye to eye. “How much more?”
She forced herself to look into his eyes. “I think I like you.”
His laugh sounded a tad bit bitter. “I should hope so. We’ve been friends since eighth grade.”
“I mean I like-like you.” She blushed.
Jeff let out a short laugh. “Now I feel like we’re back in eighth grade.”
Meg smacked him in the arm for that comment.
Capturing both of her hands in his, Jeff asked, “Do you want to know something?” 
“What?” She pouted, not sure she did want to know.
“You have no need to be jealous.”
“No?”
“No. My plans last week were tickets to a game with the guys from work.”
She felt ridiculously relieved.
“Wanna know something else?”
Meg looked into his eyes hopefully. “What?”
“The nurse called me earlier today. She saw my buddy at the bar after work last night and he gave her my number.”
Suddenly Meg was on an emotional roller coaster with no exit in sight. She felt acid fill the pit of her stomach. This was why she didn’t date. She remembered now. It sucked.
“What did she want?” Meg could barely hear past the rush of blood in her ears.
“To see me tonight.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. So Nurse Naughty called after he had already said yes to dinner with her and he felt he couldn’t get out of it. Great. He would probably rather be with the slutty nurse tonight. This was horrible. She could barely breathe.
Afraid she might cry, Meg managed to choke out, “What did you tell her?”  
“That I was already involved with someone and that sleeping with her that one time had been a mistake.”
That one time. He hadn’t slept with her again. Relief flooded her entire body. She could barely whisper, “You did?” 
“Yeah, but that wasn’t totally true.”
Of course it wasn’t true. Jeff wasn’t involved with her. Meg herself had made up that stupid rule that they wouldn’t get “involved”. They would be just friends with benefits who would have sex with no involvement. She dropped her gaze from his. “I guess you’re right. It’s not true.”
“It’s not true because sleeping with her wasn’t totally a mistake.” Meg’s head whipped up as he continued, “Because it wasn’t until I was with her that you decided you like-liked me.” Jeff paused, smiled and ran his hands up Meg’s arms. He cupped her face with one palm before he went on. “And it wasn’t until I was with her that I realized I never wanted to be with anyone else except you.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He smiled wider.
As she felt her heart begin to pound, Jeff leaned in, touching his lips to hers. He kissed her deeply until her knees felt weak and she finally had to pull away to catch her breath…and confess one more thing. She couldn’t keep this to herself any longer. “Jeff?”
“Yes, Meg.”
She hesitated. “I think I might more than like-like you.”
He grinned. “That’s okay, sweetie. I more than like-like you too. I think I have for awhile now.”
So much for Vicki’s theory about men.
Meg broke into a huge satisfied smile. “I’m really glad that you do.”
“Me too, Meg. Me too. Oh and you better stock up on batteries for Bunny. And we’ll buy some lube too. I think we’re gonna need both. Now that we’re officially exclusively dating, I plan on being here a lot more often.”
Meg felt her entire body warm. She certainly hoped so.
The End


The Soldier and the Siren
The transport touched down with a bump and a squeak of rubber against tarmac. This was it. He was home. Stateside once more, but for perhaps the first time in his decade-long career in the Army, David couldn't have cared less.
What did it matter whether he was in Afghanistan getting shot at or home? She had pierced his heart completely. As accurately as if she'd been wielding a sniper's weapon, and all from thousands of miles away. He felt the outline of the folded letter in the pocket of his cammies. A five-year relationship, ended by one piece of paper and four heart wrenching words. "I've met someone else."
Maybe the Army should hire Jan. She could take out half the Taliban and probably Osama too by breaking them so completely they'd wish they were dead.
The door swung wide and the smells of the airfield rushed inside the cabin as the members of his platoon sprang into movement around him. They gathered possessions and lined up in the aisle, brushing past his elbow and jostling for position, all anxious to push toward the exit. David remained seated. What was the hurry?
"Sergeant?"
He looked up at the word and realized that though he had no desire to get off this flight, the guy sitting next to him trapped in the window seat did.
"Sorry." David stood. He couldn't hide on the plane forever.
Before descending the metal stairs, he glanced at the waiting family members, some holding banners, others waving flags. Women. Children. His treacherous eyes scanned the faces. Who the hell was he looking for? She wouldn't be there. So why was his pulse pounding?
Stupid.
Gaze firmly lowered, he planted his well-worn combat boots on the steps. Once on the ground, he made a beeline to the pile of bags. He pawed through a few, all identical except for the names, until he found his. He hefted the heavy weight onto his shoulder and walked quickly past the happy, tearful reunions.
Wives and girlfriends leapt into loved ones’ arms. Children called out "Daddy".
Stoically keeping his attention downward David didn't look up again until he'd reached the sidewalk where he'd have to find a payphone to call a taxi. He'd turned his cell phone account off for the deployment. He'd be happy to have it back on again but that would have to wait until tomorrow. Right now, he needed a cab, a shower and his bed. Food would probably have to be in there somewhere as well, not that he had an appetite.
Grabbing the receiver, David pushed the buttons for information. He didn't know the number or even the name of the local taxi company. He'd always had someone waiting for him. Boy, how things changed.
Absently, he glanced at an ad plastered next to the phone for the local radio station. It featured a picture of a smiling female. He was still waiting for the operator to come on the line when a minivan pulled up.
"Sergeant! You need a ride?" One of his guys, smiling wide and face covered in lipstick, yelled out the open passenger window.
"Nah, I'm good. I can just call a cab."
The door swung open and the younger soldier jumped out. "No need. You're on our way. Really, it's no problem at all."
Before he could protest his bag was thrown in the trunk and David was stashed in the back between two car seats filled with tiny clones of his team leader. David had planned on having kids himself one day. When the hell would he get around to that? Thank God he hadn't had them with Jan.
As the van pulled up to the bachelor housing on base, he sent up another thanks that he'd never moved in with her either. He sighed and directed his attention to saying the proper thanks to the happy family of four who served as the painful reminder of what he didn't have.
Just a couple of hours later, he felt like a new man. Or at least a less broken one. A nice hot shower could solve a number of ills. So could a good cold beer, or six. He shoved the half eaten pizza, still in its box, onto the bare shelf of the fridge. That was one benefit of having no food at his place. There was plenty of room. While he was in the fridge, he grabbed the last beer out of the cardboard six-pack holder on the shelf above.
Maybe after this he'd be able to sleep. Though the quiet was starting to get to him. After being surrounded by his guys twenty-four hours a day for six months, being totally alone was disconcerting.
David switched on the radio next to his bed and scrolled through the stations. He landed on a talk show. The woman's voice was soothing. Sultry and warm. He left that on. In nothing but his PT shorts, he lay down on top of the smooth bedspread and closed his eyes, willing peace to come.


“Another?” The bartender, rag in hand, paused in his wiping of the bar top directly in front of David.
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” He pushed his empty bottle closer to the man and reached to grab another peanut out of the bowl to his right.
“Mind if I steal a few of those?”
The voice stopped David’s hand in mid motion, its tenor so familiar he would know it anywhere. It was the voice from the radio. The one that had lulled him to sleep last night as surely as a lullaby.
Almost fearful to look and find the exterior package didn’t match the image he’d conjured in his mind while listening to her, he turned his head in her direction. “Help yourself.”
Relief flooded him. He needn’t have worried. She was all he’d imagined and more.
Chestnut hair pulled into a messy knot at the back of her head begged his hands to pull it down so he could feel it against his skin. Her smile, as warm as her voice, was punctuated with dimples on either side.
No, she wasn’t perfection. The crinkles that appeared in the corners of her eyes when she smiled would probably be airbrushed out of a picture if she were a model, but he liked them. They made her more real.
“Thanks.” She popped a few nuts into her mouth while continuing to size him up. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”
David felt his pulse speed. He may have been out of the dating world for a few years, and out of the country for a few months, but he knew the look of a woman who was interested.
Swallowing hard, he tried to play it cool. Meanwhile, between that sultry voice and the way she kept looking at him, he was so aroused he could happily take her right there on top of the bar.
“I’ve been away.” The bartender plunked his beer down. David said thanks and glanced in her direction. “Drink?”
“I’ll just have a sip of yours.” The woman reached right out, brazen as anything, and grabbed the longneck. She pressed it to her lips. After a long swallow that had him imagining all sorts of things, she licked her lips and handed the bottle back to him. “Mmm. Nice. Thanks.”
He drew in a deep breath and angled his body toward the bar so she wouldn’t see the growing bulge in his jeans. “No problem.”
Taking a sip himself, he debated his next move. Not that he was in charge here. She was clearly in the driver’s seat.
“So, you live around here?” Her words drew his gaze to her mouth. He seemed unable to tear his attention away from her when she spoke.
“Not far.” He also seemed unable to form sentences of more than a few words. David brought the bottle back to his lips and took another swig.
“What do you say we finish that baby up and head to your place? I’m dying to get out of these heels.”
After that statement, swallowing the beer in his mouth without choking took some doing. The expression on her face clearly said the shoes weren’t the only things she wanted to take off.
He nodded. “Sounds good.”
She plucked the beer from his hand and downed a large swallow, nearly emptying the bottle. “Good. Let’s go.”
He struggled to pull a few bills out of his wallet, threw them on the bar and rushed after her as she waited by the door.
She didn’t say another word, and neither did he, until he’d closed the door of his room behind them. Then her beer-scented lips were pressed against his. He’d been six months in Afghanistan without beer or women. Tonight he had both and he wasn’t going to let them go to waste.
When she hopped up and wrapped her legs around him, he carried her across the room. They tumbled together on top of the unmade bed. Amid the already messy covers, they pawed at each other’s clothes until nothing remained between them. As he braced above her, she pulled his hips forward and plunged him effortlessly into her warmth.
David let out a groan as long absent sensations assaulted him. She bit his chest hard while pulling him deeper. He tangled his fingers in her hair, yanked it to the side and retaliated with a bite of his own. With a moan that cut straight to his core, she angled her head to give him better access.
Feeling like a teenager again, David worked the spot below her ear until he’d left his mark. He pulled back, admired his work, then let his gaze move down her body to appreciate the rest of her. In particular, he took in the tantalizing view of where their bodies met.
He continued to thrust into her like there was no end in sight. Like he was eighteen again and he could go all night. As she cried out her pleasure beneath him, he knew she’d let him.
Her body tensed. She grabbed his hips and held him tight against her. He didn’t fight it as he felt her body clutching his. He squeezed his eyes shut and enjoyed her muscles pulsing around him. When her grip eased up enough he could move again, he rocked into her hard and fast until he roared with his own release.
Collapsing heavily and breathless upon her, David laughed, his heart feeling whole again for the first time in a while.
“Sleep now.” She stroked his hair as her voice poured warm and thick over him.


David opened his eyes to a room flooded with brilliant morning sunlight. Her words filled the room but they had a distant quality. He turned his head and saw the radio was on. It was the source of his siren’s voice. She wasn’t there at all.
He frowned as memories crept into his head. He still lay on top of his neatly made bed in his PT shorts. Reaching down, he plucked sticky fabric away from his skin.
It had been a dream. An incredible one that had him coming in his sleep like a pubescent boy, but still just a dream.
Running a hand over his face and hair in frustration, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. The voice from the radio chattered on, each syllable making his body crave more of what he apparently had never had. Her.
“We’re broadcasting live this morning from the PX. Come on down and join me. We’ve got t-shirts to give away…”
Out of bed and on his hurried way to the bathroom, he didn’t hear the rest of what she said. It was crazy, yeah, but he had to meet her.
Faster than even when he’d been under fire, David finished his shower, got dressed and was out the door. Sprinting across the post, he was out of breath by the time the radio station van parked in front of the PX came into view. He dodged around the vehicle to see a small crowd pressing toward banks of speakers and a woman seated behind a table.
Long chestnut hair pulled into a knot at the back of her head. Dimples a man could get lost in. That voice, amplified so it filled the air and surrounded him. Defying all logic, the woman of his dreams sat before him, chatting with the crowd.
The station took a break to play some music and someone official-looking organized the visitors into a line. Numbly he got on the end, not knowing what it was for, just that it would lead him to her. Eventually, it was his turn to stand before her. She smiled that smile that was familiar even though there was no earthly way it could be.
“Hi. You look like you need an extra-large.” She reached for a pile next to her on the table and plucked a t-shirt off the top. “Here you go.”
Blindly, he reached out and took it from her, unable to draw his gaze from her face. “Thanks.”
She smiled brightly. “You’re very welcome. I’m taking questions for when we go back on air after the break. Anything you’d like to ask?”
“Um, yeah. Can I buy you a cup of coffee or…lunch when you’re done here?” David swallowed hard, waiting for her probable rejection.
Her surprise was evident from her expression. The long pause during which she didn’t answer didn’t bode well, yet still a spark of hope lived inside him.
Finally, she nodded. “Yeah. I think I’d enjoy that.”
A wide grin he couldn’t control and didn’t want to spread across his face, stretching from ear to ear. “Me too.
The End…or just the beginning?


FIREWORKS 
“Who the hell schedules a leadership training over the fourth of July?” Leaning back from the computer, Joe huffed out an annoyed breath. “And we’ve got freaking homework to do too. On a holiday. It’s un-American.”
“Forget about the holiday. Who the fuck decided a training at a post in Georgia in July was a good idea?” Brad wiped the sweat from his face one more time. It figured the air conditioning in their room would be on the fritz. Just his luck. Sometimes a guy just couldn’t catch a break.
“You northerners are big sissies when it comes to the heat. Don’t forget, I grew up not far from here. This is nothing. Once when I was a kid, my brother and I fried an egg on the sidewalk. That was a hot summer.”
“I guess I’m supposed to count myself lucky then that it’s only in the high nineties, and not egg frying weather?” Brad cocked a brow as the sweat trickling down his back soaked through his third shirt of the day.
“That’s right. You should.” Joe’s chair scraped across the navy carpet that had seen better days and he got up. “That’s it. I have to get out of this room.”
“Good idea. Where are we going?” Brad stood too. He wasn’t getting anything done anyway. Even the t-shirt and shorts he wore felt like body armor in this heat.
“One of the guys in the mess hall was talking about going to see the fireworks tonight. I reckon that will at least make it feel more like the holiday would be if I were back home. Though at home I’d be able to have a six-pack of cold beers and a hot girl or two while I watched the neighbors try not to blow off their fingers or set the woods on fire.”
A hot girl was always nice, but right now, just the mention of an icy beer had Brad’s mouth watering. Even without the beer, getting out of their oven of a room sounded good to him. “All right. Let’s go. It’s got to be cooler outside than it is in here.”
Shaking his head, Joe led them out the door with a mumbled, “Sissy Yankees. Can’t take a little heat.”
A quick questioning of one of the soldiers on their floor let them know the location of the fireworks display. A detour to the bowling alley for a quick pitcher quenched his thirst, and by full dark, Brad was much happier as he and Joe carefully picked their way through the many spectators seated on the grass.
He glanced around. Quite a crowd had assembled. “Where do you want to sit?”
Joe grinned broadly and cocked his head to the left. “Right over there.”
Brad followed his gaze, and then saw the reason for his roommate’s decisiveness. “You and your red heads.”
“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it, my friend. My first girl ever was a red head. Mary Jo Warren. She was more than a handful in every way, if you know what I mean. Curves like a racetrack. Thighs like tree trunks. When she wrapped those legs around me, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. She spoiled me for all other women.”
Brad raised a brow. In the two years he’d known Joe, the man had never shown as much enthusiasm as he did when describing this Mary Jo. Though his tale did explain why he always gravitated to more curvaceous women, and whenever possible, red heads. “And…what happened to you and her?”
“I joined up. She cried her eyes out, swore she’d never forgive me and I guess she didn’t. I went to boot camp and never saw or heard from her again. That was fifteen years ago.” Joe sighed.
The first of the fireworks shot into the air. “Come on. Let’s go take a seat next to your red head.”
Joe grinned. “She’s a bit on the thin side for me, but hey, who am I to be picky?”
“Exactly.” Brad laughed.
Joe was a chick magnet. Brad figured there were two scenarios for tonight. Joe would go home with this woman to her place, or Brad would be homeless for the night while his roommate snuck her into their shared barracks room. Oh well. It would be too hot to sleep in there anyway.
“Hey there. Mind if we sit?” Joe flashed her his patented grin, sure to reel in the ladies.
Surprise crossed her face before she nodded. “Uh, sure. Go ahead.”
“I’m Joe and this here is my friend Brad.”
Waving a greeting as Joe introduced them, he couldn’t help but wonder what had this girl so flustered. She was pretty in a girl-next-door way. He would think she should be used to guys hitting on her.
“Um, hi. I’m…MJ.” She shook the hand Joe had extended.
“MJ. I like it. Like the girl on Spiderman.” Joe took his seat on the grass, though Brad noted he managed to have his thigh touching hers.
“Yeah, I guess so. I never thought of that before.” She shot Brad a quick glance then leaned back on her arms as the sky lit with more bursts of color. Just when he assumed she was done talking and Joe’s efforts had been shot down, she asked, “So, you guys stationed at Fort Benning?”
Joe was so busy staring at the girl that Brad had to answer her question. “We’re here for a few weeks for training.”
“Did you grow up around here?” Joe studied her face so intently, a wrinkle formed between his brows.
“Um, yeah. Kinda. Not too far.”
Something very interesting was going on and Brad watched it with fascination. When Joe’s eyes opened wide and he actually let out a curse in front of a lady, which Joe never did, Brad’s suspicions were confirmed.
“Holy shit. Mary Jo?” Joe’s eyes bugged out of his head, but after what he’d said, Brad’s attention refocused on the female in question. Joe’s first. The one that got away.
“Yes.” Her answer was so quiet it was nearly drowned out by the explosions in the sky above them.
“Oh my God. I didn’t recognize you.”
She shrugged. “I’ve lost about fifty pounds since I saw you last.”
A deep frown furrowed Joe’s brow. “You weren’t going to tell me who you were if I didn’t recognize you, were you?”
“No.” Mary Jo shook her head. Her eyes glistened, and Brad suspected it wasn’t just from the reflection of the fireworks.
For once, Joe was speechless. Brad cleared his throat. “Uh, should I leave you two alone? It sounds like you have some talking to do.”
“No. Don’t. I’m leaving, just like he did fifteen years ago.”
She jumped up and before Joe could stop her, she was through the crowd.
“Mary Jo, wait.” Joe called after her retreating back as she kept going and disappeared.
Brad blew out a long breath, not really knowing what to say. “Wow. What a coincidence, huh?”
Looking a bit shell-shocked, Joe nodded. “Yeah.”
“You want to go back to the bowling alley and get another pitcher?” His friend needed more than fireworks to cheer him up right about now.
“Oh, yeah.”
They’d barely made it twenty yards when she stood before them again.
“Hi.” Her eyes flickered from Joe, to Brad, then down to the ground.
“Hi,” Joe repeated, his gaze never leaving her face.
She kicked at the ground with her toe and Brad began to feel as uncomfortable as she appeared.
“I’m sorry.” Mary Jo let out a short laugh. “It’s absolutely ridiculous of me to still be mad at you after all this time. You obviously made the Army your career. I’d thought it was just a whim. I was wrong. I apologize.”
Joe reached out and rubbed her arms. “It’s all right. I reckon I could have handled it better too, back then.”
She shrugged. “We were really young.”
“Yeah, we were.” Joe leaned his head down nearer to hers.
“Um, now I really think I need to go. Nice meeting you, Mary Jo.”
“You too.”
Intent on giving them time alone, Brad turned on his heel to leave when Joe called after him, “I’ll see you back at the room later.”
“You got it.”


Brad knew it was too good to be true that he could actually fall asleep in the sweltering room and stay asleep. Though with the windows open and the fan he’d borrowed from one of the other guys who actually had air conditioning blowing on him, he may have had a chance of making it until morning, if Joe hadn’t come sneaking in.
Elephants made less noise entering a room, and soon, the reason became apparent. The shushing and giggling was his first clue. The slow crescendo of moans coming from Joe’s rack was his second. He’d brought Mary Jo back with him.
Now what? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d feigned sleep while a roommate got busy. Not that he was a pervert voyeur or anything, but honestly, why should he be put out of his own bed just so somebody else could have fun? Tonight, Brad was crankier than usual and wasn’t about to give up his bed. And, inexplicitly, he was also suddenly horny as hell.
Listening to the rustle of the sheets and the soft whispers started the process. By the time he heard Mary Jo start to come, he was full tilt and hard enough to drive nails with his dick.
Eyelids squeezed tightly closed, he concentrated intently on every sound when he knew he should be blocking it all out. Even the whir of the fan, which had been the peaceful drone that had put him to sleep before, annoyed him now as it covered the tiny noises he knew she’d be making but he couldn’t hear clearly. He strained to catch every shuddering breath she took as she climaxed hard.
Bedsprings squeaked and Joe’s moan told Brad his friend was exactly where he wished he could be. Inside her.
Dammit. He should leave. When his hand uncontrollably strayed down and he started stroking himself, he knew he was going to have to, if only to go to the bathroom and finish himself off, but he didn’t want to go. He wanted to listen, to share in some small part of this.
As silently as possible, he spit into his palm, and then stroked himself, harder and faster, keeping time with the creaking of the bed just feet from him.
Whispering across the room stopped Brad in mid stroke.
Shit. Had they heard him? He held perfectly still, straining to make individual words out of the murmurs.
“Brad.”
Joe’s voice made him jump. He’d spoken loud enough; Brad decided he couldn’t pretend to sleep through it, even though he’d like to do exactly that. “Yeah?”
“You can come over here.”
Shocked and confused, Brad took a moment to consider the meaning of that invitation and couldn’t quite wrap his head around it, probably because his hand was still wrapped around his dick, hindering his thought process. “Um. What?”
Joe’s laugh came through the darkness. “Stop pretending you’re not listening to us and just get your ass over here.”
A female giggle followed Joe’s words.
Adjusting his shorts so he was covered, Brad sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting both bare feet on the floor. “Um, why?”
Damn, he sounded like an imbecile.
“To take pictures for my scrapbook. Why the hell do you think?”
“I’m not sure what I think.”
“Brad. It’s okay. Come on over.” The softly spoken invitation from her had him hardening further.
A lump lodged in his throat. Mary Jo, with the peaches and cream cheerleader good looks, did not seem like the threesome type. Then again, she obviously was because there had not been a whole hell of a lot of discussion happening in that other bed before this crazy invitation had come through the darkness. Not enough for Joe to have convinced her to do something she wasn’t into.
Brad rose onto unsteady legs and made his way across the short distance. He eyed the bed, wondering how a mattress designed for one was going to accommodate three. The answer came when the other two moved and Mary Jo patted the sheets. “Take off your shorts and lay down.”
Who was he to argue? A good soldier did as he was told, so Brad dropped his shorts and laid down in the spot they’d created for him.
Like a well-synchronized team, Mary Jo straddled his legs, before lowering her head to his cock, while Joe pressed up behind her. Perhaps these two had done this before. A shiver ran up his spine in spite of the heat when her mouth engulfed him. Joe slid inside her pussy and her answering moan vibrated through Brad.
He hissed in a breath, ready to come even though they’d just started. This was the most erotic thing he’d ever done and it would really suck to have it end too soon. Fists clutching the sheet on either side of him, he struggled to keep his eyes open to watch her lips and hand sliding up and down his length.
Joe’s arms wrapped around her and he pulled her body upright. “Ease off him a bit, baby girl. Yankees can’t last as long as us southern boys.”
Throbbing and with pre-come already heralding the inevitable, Brad was afraid to argue. Instead he watched Joe’s hand drop to between Mary Jo’s legs. He wished with all his might he could put the lights on and see better, but the illumination coming through the window blinds from the security light outside would have to do.
Brad couldn’t take his gaze off her face while Joe worked her clit and thrust faster. Her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted. She gasped for breath while crying out. His cock throbbed while he watched her come, imagining how hot and wet her pussy would feel.
Joe pulled her head back and to the side, kissing her hard as he thrust in one final time and then released a loud groan. Brad watched in fascination, wishing he were inside of her instead.
Pulling out, Joe gave Mary Jo one final kiss. “Stay right there.”
Padding naked across the room, Joe reached into the dresser drawer and then a foil packet came flying through the air, landing on Brad’s chest.
He glanced down at it, wide-eyed, as Joe pulled off his own used condom, and flung it into the garbage.
“Put it on,” he instructed before turning the computer chair to face the bed and sitting.
The breeze from the fan did nothing to help as he sweat in earnest now, and not just from the heat. Brad discovered his hands shook as he picked up the packet and struggled to open it. Mary Jo finally took it from him. She covered him quickly, her touch gentle but sure.
She moved over him and his tip pressed against her. Then he was inside. She felt every bit as good as he imagined she would. With her arms braced on either side of his head, her face hovered just above his. Brad licked his lips, craving her mouth.
“You can kiss her if you want to.” Joe’s voice sounded strained.
He turned his head and saw the intense expression on Joe’s face as he watched Mary Jo rise slowly up and down over Brad.
Brad’s heart pounded. He wasn’t into being watched. Or maybe he was judging by how much it was turning him on to fuck Joe’s girl, even his ex, while he watched. He grabbed her head and did what he’d wanted to do since seeing Joe kiss her while she came. Thrusting his tongue into her mouth, he kissed her hard.
Brad’s hands slid from her hair, lowering to grasp her tiny waist. He began thrusting faster. She angled her hips and her breathing changed, getting more rapid until she was gasping and had to break the kiss. He felt his balls tighten. The tingling started and told him he was close, but damn, he wanted to feel her come while he was inside.
Just as he couldn’t hold on any longer, when he began to come in hard spurts deep within Mary Jo, her muscles began to convulse around him. He buried his face in her shoulder, nearly crying out as the combined climaxes shook him to the core.
She collapsed onto him, their chests stuck together with sweat that for once, Brad didn’t mind one bit. Outside, the scattered sound of fireworks in the distance continued. The amateur kind that made more noise than color, but Brad could barely hear them over the sound of his own breathing.
Reality began to return with the sound of Joe’s voice. “Now this is what every Fourth of July is supposed to be like.”
Against his chest, Mary Jo shook her head. “We’ve done this exactly once on July 4th. Fifteen years ago.”
“Twice, counting today. And so? It should become an annual event in my opinion.”
“You’re not joking? You two have done this before?” Somehow Brad knew the answer before she gave it.
 She propped her chin up on her hands so he could see her face. “Yeah. A few times back when we were dating. He likes to watch.”
That fact didn’t seem to phase her one bit.
“Don’t say it like that. If I remember correctly, you like it too.” Joe crawled back onto the bed, leaned over and kissed Mary Jo hard on the mouth, even as Brad was still buried inside her. “Damn. I’ve missed you, baby girl.”
“I missed you too,” she answered.
Joe’s hand traced a line down Mary Jo’s spine. Brad felt her shiver from the touch. He watched as Joe wet his finger and slid it slowly between her ass cheeks. Mary Jo pushed back against his hand as her eyes drifted shut.
Joe let out a groan. “I’m ready for round two. How about you guys?”
Brad started to immediately get hard again. Who was he to argue?
The End


The Rookie (a Studs in Spurs series deleted scene cut from Bucked)
Mustang opened the door of the trailer and stepped back, watching Marla’s heart-shaped ass within her skintight jeans sway as she walked ahead of him.
He followed her inside and breathed with relief when he saw he’d remembered to straighten the covers on the big bed after he’d gotten up that day, back when he had two good arms instead of one. Waking up that morning felt like a million years ago.
Going directly to the cabinet, he took down a bottle and two glasses. He wasn’t planning on drinking anymore himself so he splashed whisky into the glasses for Chase and Marla. Chase definitely needed some liquid courage and Marla, well, this woman looked like she could hold her liquor.
He handed one to Marla, then carried the other to Chase, who still hovered, hat in hand, inside the open doorway. “Shut the door, kid.”
That order broke Chase out of his spell. He reached back, pulled the door shut and then stood there again like he was waiting for the torture to begin.
He thrust the glass at him and Chase shook his head. “I don’t want it. Thanks.”
“You’re shaking. Drink it.” Mustang kept his voice low, but authoritative.
After one hard and no doubt dry swallow, Chase finally gave in and took the drink, downing it too fast and coughing.
Shaking his head at that, Mustang pivoted on the heel of one boot, and looked back at Marla.
She’d already kicked off her shoes and was sitting seductively on the big bed. She patted the blanket with one hand. “Is this where you sleep while you’re on the road competing?”
“That’s right. Sleep and other things.” He smiled, until he saw the expression on Chase’s face. The kid was frozen in place and scared shit. This was going to take more work than he’d thought. Mustang drew in a deep breath and leaned in toward Chase. “Go over and sit next to her on the bed.”
Chase’s eyes flew open wide.
“Trust me.” Leading by example and hoping Chase would follow, Mustang walked the short distance to the bed.  He sat on the far side of Marla, leaving the other spot open for Chase, who was moving at a sloth-like pace.
“Does your arm hurt?” She thankfully was focused on Mustang’s sling and didn’t notice Chase’s hesitant, shaky decent onto the bed.
“Nah. The doc has me so pumped full of pain pills I can’t feel a thing.”
 “I certainly hope you can feel something.” Marla’s gaze dropped to the bulge in the crotch of Mustang’s jeans. He heard Chase draw in a wheeze of breath.
“Don’t you worry about that, darlin’. Everything is in perfect working order except my bum arm here.”
“Good.”
Chase laid his hat on the bed behind them and Mustang, knowing that area was about to become the sight of some pretty energetic activity, reached out and moved it to the table next them.
“It does make it mighty hard to get dressed though…and undressed.” Mustang let that suggestion hang in the air as a little push in the direction of those very activities he had in mind.
“I’m sure I can help you with that.” A sly smile crossed Marla’s red-tinged mouth. He wouldn’t mind seeing that lipstick ringing his cock real soon.
Mustang nodded, a matching smile on his own lips. “That would be mighty appreciated. You know what else would be appreciated?”
“What’s that?”
“If you would give my friend Chase here a little birthday kiss.”
Now, of all times, Chase decided to open his mouth. “It’s not my birthday.”
Mustang shot him a look behind Marla’s back that would hopefully silence him. “Nope, you’re right, kid. It’s not until tomorrow, but I figure it will be midnight soon enough.”
Marla turned on the bed to face Chase. “I always believe it’s never too early to start celebrating. Don’t you?”
Chase swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Please, call me Marla.”
Mustang would have to break him of that “ma’am” habit if Chase was going to stick to pursuing his usual type. Older women, especially those who weren’t from the south, didn’t take kindly to being called ma’am by a young man they were about to have sex with.
Pale, Chase nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mustang cringed as Chase said it again, but Marla only laughed. Her hand landed on Chase’s knee, she leaned in and Mustang sincerely started to fear the kid would faint. 
The kiss started innocent enough, just a touching of lips, until Marla reached up one jewel-encrusted hand, and tangled her fingers in Chase’s hair. Then, thankfully, Chase’s hormones must have kicked in because he started really getting into the kiss. He stopped acting like a choirboy and started behaving like the horny, twenty-one year old Mustang knew him to be.
With Chase safely occupied, Mustang moved up closer behind Marla. He went to reach around her with both arms until the sling reminded him he would have to one-hand it tonight. No problem. One was all he’d need.
 He encountered first the warm feel of skin where her shirt didn’t quite meet the top of her low-rise jeans. Getting those tight jeans off one-handed would be a challenge, but Mustang did have both Marla and Chase there to help with that task. 
For now, he let his hand stray up to find her barely-there breasts. Mustang wasn’t a breast snob because he knew from experience the small ones were really sensitive. She moaned as he rolled one nipple between his fingers and he knew his theory held true.
He abandoned her chest and moved down to stroke between her thighs through the jeans, eliciting another sound of pleasure from her.
That moan had Chase breathing heavier and kissing her with more enthusiasm while Mustang moved his mouth to her ear. “I want to touch you.”
Her only answer was the sound of her zipper being lowered. Mustang snaked his hand down inside her panties and smiled when he found her already wet. She shuddered when he connected with her clit. 
Mustang looked over her shoulder to find Chase had stopped kissing her and was now watching with amazement as Marla leaned back against Mustang, panting.
“Take your pants off,” Mustang mouthed silently to him. Chase’s eyes opened even wider at that instruction. When he didn’t move to comply, Mustang shot him a look to let him know it was an order, not a suggestion.
Mustang nearly laughed at the expression of mixed fear and anticipation on Chase’s face as he stood and unbuttoned his jeans. The kid tried to pull them off over his boots and fell over, catching himself on the edge of the bed. Meanwhile, thankfully, Marla’s eyes were closed and she was so close to coming, she missed the comedy of errors right in front of her.
When Chase finally got both his boots and his pants off without breaking anything, Mustang took the opportunity to move things along. “Drawer. Condoms,” he mouthed to Chase just as Marla let him know loudly that her orgasm had finally hit.
That all caused another pretty funny reaction from Chase. Jeez. This kid was a rookie in more ways than one.
As Chase stood open-mouthed and wide-eyed in his tented white briefs while holding a strip of foil wrapped rubbers in one hand, Mustang whispered to a now breathless Marla. “Do you know why they call me Mustang?”
“No,” she breathed.
“Wanna find out?”
She opened her eyes and gazed up at him beneath heavy lids. “Yes.”
Mustang smiled. “Help me off with my jeans and I’ll show you.”
Still wobbly, she spun to face him. Kneeling on the bed, she undid his pants. He groaned as her hands brushed his now throbbing erection.
Mustang kicked off his boots and stood, letting her help him push off the jeans and leaving them in a pile on the floor. “You’re turn, darlin’. Get comfortable ’cause I’m not nearly done with you yet.”
Marla slid out of her own pants and panties, showing him what he’d already felt. She was waxed perfectly smooth. That should really send Chase into a tizzy.
Smiling at that thought, Mustang wiggled backward onto the bed. “Okay, ready to meet my namesake?”
She nodded, eyes already trained on the bulge straining his boxers.
“Come on over here then and help me release Junior, but I’m warning you, he’s more than a mouthful. Don’t worry if you can’t handle him.”
Marla raised a brow. “Is that a challenge, cowboy?”
“Could be.” Mustang grinned.
“Never challenge a Jersey girl.” Then Marla set about proving Mustang wrong, which was exactly the point to begin with.
As her hot, wet mouth engulfed him, Mustang laid back, closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation he hadn’t felt in weeks. Far too long, in his opinion. Then he remembered Chase and opened his eyes. Predictably, the kid stood right where Mustang had seen him last. Mustang waved him over and a look of uncertainty crossed Chase’s face.
He’d never encountered issues like this when Slade was around. With a sigh, Mustang brushed the hair away from Marla’s face. Her mouth still stretched around his girth, she opened her eyes. “Damn, you are a beautiful sight like this.”
She raised her head off him. “Told you I could handle you.”
“Yes, you did and you were right. I’ve never had a woman feel as good as you.” Marla smiled and Mustang pushed things to the next level, knowing she’d give him probably just about anything he asked for. “You know what I’d really, really like?”
“What?”
“I’d wanna watch Chase fuck you while you blow me.” Mustang didn’t sugarcoat things like he might have with another woman. Judging by how things had progressed so far, Marla wasn’t the type who needed it to be called “making love”.
Chase, on the other hand, was a different story. He nearly dropped his condoms at that statement. Chase was definitely a “making love” kind of man, or at least he had been before now.
Mustang had a feeling that might change after tonight. 
“That would turn you on, would it? Watching another man do me?” Marla asked with a smirk.
“Lots of things turn me on, but I figure that’s a good enough start for now.”
Sitting on her knees facing Chase, Marla reached out, grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. “Come here. I don’t bite.”
Mustang laughed. “I can attest to that. Though I do enjoy a little teeth once in a while.”
“I’ll remember that.” She smirked over her shoulder and then went back to focusing on Chase. “You seem to be a bit over dressed.”
With an erotic, striptease-worthy motion, Marla slowly inched Chase’s briefs down his hips, over his cock and past his thighs. She ran one long painted fingernail up Chase’s erection and the boy’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head.
Marla teased his slit and Chase drew in a deep, trembling breath. Chase’s entire body tensed and Mustang felt his pain. The kid was going to come before he ever got inside this woman.
She took a drop of pre-come and rubbed it around the head of Chase’s cock and the boy began to tremble. “Do you know what I like about younger men, Chase?”
He swallowed. “No, ma’am.” 
Smiling at the ma’am comment, Marla continued. “I love how they can come and be ready to go again right away.”
Then Chase was engulfed between Marla’s lips as she worked him hard and fast with both mouth and hands. Chase didn’t stand a chance. He grabbed hold of her head, probably because he was about to fall over if he didn’t. He came in less than a minute, his entire body jolting as if electrical current was shooting through him.
Marla wasted no time tearing open a condom and sliding it over Chase’s still hard cock.
“Now, you’re ready to fuck me.”
Mustang was really starting to like this woman. He liked her even better when she spun back and took him in her mouth again, her pussy stuck high in the air for Chase’s taking. Thankfully this time without hesitation, Chase took.
With nothing more to worry about besides his own pleasure, Mustang lay back, closed his eyes and got lost in the sensations that a good woman who knew her way around a man’s body could cause.
A short time later when the three of them were sweaty and collapsed on the bed, Marla raised her head and eyed Mustang. “Would you like me to prove to you I can handle Junior here in a few other places too?”
Grinning, Mustang borrowed a page from Chase’s playbook since Marla seemed to like it and he said, “Yes, ma’am. I would.”
The look on Chase’s face when he finally figured out what other places those might be had Mustang belting out a laugh. Broken arm aside, this was turning out to be one hell of a night.
The End


Eight Second Ride (A Studs in Spurs short story featuring Chase of Ride)
And the clock starts…
Chase stood in awe, taking in the towering stone columns on either side of him. His gaze followed them up, up, up to what seemed to him to be a mansion compared to the tiny farmhouse he’d grown up in.
Ms. Jensen—Jenny as she’d requested he call her when she drove them here—cleared her throat.
“Chase? Are you coming in or not?” She stood on the top step, hands planted firmly on her hips, obviously waiting for him to follow.
The house had been impressive enough to draw his attention away from watching her heart-shaped ass sway as she climbed the sprawling front steps, and that was saying something.
“You live here?”
“I sure do.” The woman flashed him a wide smile full of perfect, bright white teeth. She descended the few stairs that separated them and planted one hand on his Rookie of the Year belt buckle. “Now, come on.”
She pretty much dragged him up the remainder of the stairs and through a door big enough for him to ride a bull through.
The sound of his boots on the marble floor echoed off the walls of the front hall. He hadn’t seen a place this big or fancy since he’d been to a museum while the tour was in New York City a few months back.
Taking off his hat now that he was indoors—he may not have been raised in a house like this, but he still knew his manners—Chase looked up the massive staircase leading to the open second floor with its many doors. “It’s, um, real nice.”
“Are you gonna talk about my damn house all day, or are you gonna kiss me?” She stepped closer until her chest practically touched his. Her finger traced a path down his shirt, directly toward what he hoped would be her ultimate goal.
There was no decision to be made. Sure as he was standing there, Chase was going to kiss her, and more too, good lord willing. He’d only begun to lower his head toward hers when her manicured fingernails slipped through his hair and she crashed into him for a tongue tangling lip lock.
She pulled away to ask, “Do you have condoms?”
Condoms. Plural. And his friends were always picking on him for liking his women a little older. No eighteen-year-old girl would have asked that question in the first thirty seconds they were alone.
Chase grinned. “Yes, ma’am. I do.”
When did the circuit come through Texas again? He sure wouldn’t mind a repeat with her when he was in town next.
Looking like the devil had gotten into her, she flashed him another smile full of promise. “Good. Follow me.”
As if she could stop him.
She grabbed his hand and led him into a room that would make any man cream in his pants whether there was a female in it or not.
“Holy shit. Is that regulation size?” Chase strode to the most beautiful carved wooden pool table he’d ever laid eyes on.
“Yup.” She stepped closer and gave one of the balls a shove. It clacked off the rails and into a pocket. “You like it?”
“Hell, yeah.” Who wouldn’t?
“Good. Then take off those jeans of yours and let’s give this thing a try, shall we?”
While Chase was still absorbing that order, her hands made short work of her own button and zipper. He managed to get his hands onto his belt buckle, but the sudden appearance of her tiny lace panties and mile long legs capped off with high heels had him staring.
She got tired of waiting for him to do it himself and undid his buckle and jeans for him. That knocked him out of his trance pretty fast. He had to toe his boots off before stepping out of his pants, but then he was ready for action.
“Lift me up,” she ordered.
Oh, yeah. Chase lifted her weight easily onto the pool table.
Lying back on her elbows, she licked her lips and waited. He swallowed hard, the thought of what those lips could do to him making him start to shake.
“What are you waiting for? That condom’s not gonna put itself on, sugar.”
Wait until the boys back at the arena heard about this. He bent and retrieved his wallet from his jeans, sliding two condoms out of a hidden pocket. He thanked God his friend Mustang had taught him to always carry more than one, just in case. The older riders could teach you far more than just how to stay on a bull. Chase intended to learn all he could.
Sliding the spare and his wallet back into his pants, he made short work of his boxers, kicking them down his legs and onto the floor. He was rock hard, so that wasn’t an issue, but slipping on the condom took a few tries. It was inside out at first, but he figured that out pretty quick and then he was finally prepared. So was she apparently. She’d pushed those red panties off and was twirling them temptingly on one finger.
Chase stepped in between her thighs. She was waxed to within an inch of her life and he sure liked the view. He ran his hand over the smooth, hairless skin before getting brave and sliding a finger down her slit, and then inside her. The feel of her, hot and already wet, had his heart racing faster.
 “Let’s get to the good stuff. There’s no time for messing around with foreplay.” She wiggled her hips closer to the edge of the table.
“Sure thing.” He usually enjoyed the foreplay, but hell, a woman in a hurry to get to the good stuff wasn’t a bad thing. She was so ready for him, he plunged inside easily. Urged by her hands on his hips, he withdrew and then went in for another go round.
“Yes. Harder.” Throwing her head back, she let go with her hands and clamped her legs around his waist tighter than he did during a bull ride.
“Yes, ma’am.”  He grinned, always happy to please a lady.
The adrenaline from the competition had subsided, but the euphoria remained. Damn, the way he felt, he could go all night and he intended to. When they ran out of condoms, he’d just have to get creative. He’d learned a few ways to get creative with women from Mustang too.
Glancing down at the greedy expression on her face as he pounded into her, Chase had no doubt she’d be up for anything.
He was just really getting into the rhythm when a sound from the front of the house broke into his consciousness. Chase halted mid-motion. “What was that?”
“Nothing. Keep going.” Panting, she grabbed at his hips.
Thrusting forward again, Chase was ready to write off what he’d thought he heard to his imagination, when he definitely heard the front door slam shut.
“Darlin’, I’m home.”
And that was definitely a man’s voice calling out from the foyer.
Chase’s eyes flew open wide as he stared down at her. “Who is that?”
She smiled, looking like the devil himself truly had possessed her. “My husband.”
“Your husband. What the hell? Are you trying to get me killed?” Still buried deep inside her, he struggled to get free, but her hold on him was too tight. The damn woman had leg muscles like a pro bull rider.
“No. I’m trying to teach him he can’t go running around the country on so-called business trips with his slutty little secretary.” She struggled against his efforts to get loose, then, worse, she called out, “Hey, baby. I’m in the game room.”
“Holy crap. Are you crazy?”
Chase finally freed himself from her clench, bent down and scooped up his belongings. Looking frantically for any way out beside the doorway through which her husband was about to walk, he spotted glass doors that opened onto a terrace. He sprinted bare-assed outside, his rapidly deflating, condom-covered erection leading the way.
“What the fuck!”
With one hand braced on the railing, Chase barely considered the eight foot drop to the ground as her husband’s booming voice behind him announced he hadn’t gotten away unseen.
Chase landed on the ground, falling hard on one knee before scrambling up and running for the back of the property. Daring to glance back, he saw one very angry and extremely large husband swearing at him over the railing, before the man turned around and ran back inside. Then there was the sound of a car engine firing up in the driveway.
“Shit.” Chase tripped. He crashed into the trunk of a tree, the bark scraping the skin of his hip. Clothes and boots clutched to his chest and dick still hanging out, he kept running. If he could get into a neighbor’s yard and hide, he could at least get dressed and maybe wait it out until the coast was clear.
The backyard was the size of baseball field. It left him out in the open, naked and probably about to be shot. That thought motivated him to run a little faster.
By the time he got to the neighbor’s property, he heard the squeal of tires as a red convertible fishtailed around the corner of the next block. He considered running back, but these damn rich people had such huge yards, by the time he got to the other street, the angry husband would be there waiting for him. It was kind of like being a runner stuck between the bases as the first and second basemen tossed the ball back and forth.
Chase ran through the neighbor’s yard, leaping over flowers and in one case, an unhappy cat, as the car got closer. He figured this was it. His life was over, and all for a few seconds inside a woman. Then a suped-up, black pickup truck coming from the other direction swerved onto the lawn of the house nearest him.
The door flung open. “Get in.”
Not one to question the generosity of strangers with his life on the line, Chase jumped in. The truck took off before he’d even swung the door shut, speeding past the angry husband who threw the car into a spin and began following them.
The dark-haired guy driving let out an excited whoop, grinning at Chase. “Sweet. Did you see how that car handles?”
He sure had, in between pulling his underwear up his legs and trying to catch his breath. Chase had noticed the condom still hanging off his now limp dick. With a quick look at the stranger who’d saved him to make sure he was looking at the road, Chase pulled the rubber off. He flung it out the open window. One backward glance told him that had been a really bad idea. It hit the windshield of the sports car behind them and stuck there. Nothing like literally throwing it in the guy’s face he’d just been fucking his wife.
Chase spun back in his seat. “He’s gaining on us.” And now he was really pissed, as if he hadn’t been before.
“Well, yeah. Of course he is. That thing’s got way more horsepower than I do, but we have something he doesn’t.”
He didn’t know what that was, but he did know if he was going to die, he’d do it with his boots on. Chase struggled into his jeans and had one boot in his hand before he asked, “What do we have he doesn’t?”
Whatever it was, they were sure going to need it. Boots finally on, he got up the nerve to look backward once more. Holding on with one hand to stay in his seat as his new friend took a turn too fast, Chase watched the car pursuing them swerve from one side of the road to the other, trying to get alongside them.
“We’ve got four-wheel drive.” Looking like he was enjoying this a bit too much, the driver swerved off the road and headed directly for the creek running alongside it. The truck crashed down the bank and through the water as the car skidded to a stop behind them.
On the other side of the water, the crazy man at the wheel let out another giant whoop as the truck pulled up the creek bed and bounced onto another road. “That was great. I love it.”
Finally letting himself breath freely again, Chase wished he could say the same.
Once it was pretty obvious the sports car couldn’t follow, and they were well out of sight, Chase let himself start to think he might live to see another day.
The driver finally slowed the truck to something nearer the speed limit and glanced over. “Where can I drop you?”
“Shit, my truck’s back at the sports arena.” That would be the last time Chase would agree when a woman said she’d drive. From now on, he’d follow in his own truck. He’d also think to ask if she was married or not.
“No problem. We’re not too far from the arena. I’m John Dollar by the way. Folks usually just call me Dollar.”
“Chase Reese. Oh, man. I don’t know how to thank you.”
John shot him a crooked smile. “Don’t worry about it. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.”
“No, really. I know I must have looked like a crazy man, running down the road, you know, naked like that, and you stopped anyway.” That made Chase wonder if he would have done the same. “Why did you pick me up?”
“Just paying it forward, dude. I’ve been in a similar position thanks to Ms. Jenny.”
Chase’s eyes opened wide as the realization hit him. “Do you mean… You? And her?”
He hadn’t been this woman’s first romp on the cheating side. Chase supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by that.
 “Yup.” Dollar grinned wide. “She’s been trying to teach that husband of hers a lesson for years now. You’d think he’d have learned it by now. Or at least gotten tired and divorced her. Hey, you wanna grab a beer? There’s a bar on the way.”
“Oh, yeah. I sure could use one.” Shaking his head, Chase still couldn’t believe it all. He hadn’t gotten to finish what he’d started, but it sure had been one hell of an eight-second ride. One he wouldn’t forget any time soon.
The End


ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cat Johnson is the author of contemporary erotic romance in genres including western, military, romantic comedy, multiple partner and paranormal. She is known for her creative research and marketing techniques. Consequently some of her closest friends/book consultants wear combat or cowboy boots for a living, she owns an entire collection of camouflage and western footwear for book signings and she’s sponsored pro bull riders.
Cat is the author of over a dozen full-length romance novels and numerous shorter works. For more information about the author, her blogs and all of her available works visit www.catjohnson.net .
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