The Mountain Man's Kitten - Thickwood CO

“No, you don’t.”

I stand up, pushing my chair back as I collect her plate, and Miss Muffet turns her eyes up to me, letting out a little kitten meow. Reluctantly, I reach out a hand, and to my surprise she nuzzles her head against my calloused fingers.

“Well look at that, I think she’s starting to like you.”

I shake my head as I lift the plates and turn to the sink. The whole time while we ate, Katarina talked. She told me about the craziness with her mom, and although she was obviously sad that her parents’ marriage didn’t work out, there was happiness there too. I don’t get the impression that there’s any resentment. When the conversation turned to her father, well, I imagine she noticed the dark look that came into my eyes. I don’t think that man and I will see eye to eye anytime soon. But I have to admit, it’s pretty obvious that he loves Katarina, and I guess that’s something we have in common.

She tried to get me to talk, asking questions, but talking really isn’t my thing. What do I have to talk about that would interest someone like her? I’ve lived out here in the woods my whole life. I built this one-bedroom cabin right in the same spot my own father’s cabin was built, after he died and it became clear to me that there was no fixing the old place. My mom, god rest her soul, died in childbirth, so I can’t even share old family memories. I’m nothing, and Katarina? She’s everything.

She’s smart, too. And hard working. Helping out at the animal shelter, on top of her job at the NICU, is a lot to take on. Shirley’s a good person, and she won’t take advantage, but she’s lucky to have someone like Kat on her side.

“So, I guess I’d better get going,” she says, distracted as she musses the kitten’s fur. “That meal was something else, but I don’t want to intrude.”

I ignore her, taking two bowls out of the cupboard and a dessert from the fridge. When I bring the bowls to the table and set one down in front of Katarina, her eyes light up. It’s a meringue and cream concoction of my own design, with a raspberry drizzle and chocolate sprinkles. She looks so excited by what’s on the table, and I feel my heart swell a little with pride. But then she shakes her head, trying to avoid my gaze.

“I…didn’t expect anything else. Like I said, I’m really full.” She turns an embarrassed smile on me, but I shake my head.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Uh…sorry, you’ve gone to all this trouble—”

“What you said was that you have to watch your weight. And you don’t. What you have to do is enjoy this dessert, eat as much as you like, and forget what anyone else thinks. You’re beautiful, and the only consequence of eating exactly as much as you like, of exactly whatever you want, is that you will get more beautiful. Happiness is beautiful.”

Her mouth drops open, and she just stares at me for a moment, eyes wide. Then she draws a deep breath. “Wow.”

“What?”

“That’s the most you’ve said to me all evening.” She grins as she picks up her spoon, and I watch her hand as she cuts through meringue and cream, then lifts it to her lips. Once again, as the cream goes into her mouth, my cock gains another inch at the thought of those lips wrapped around my shaft, of my hands in her hair, pulling her forward as she takes every inch of me. “Oh, god…that’s soooo good…” She moans, and I cum in my pants.

Chapter Five

Miller

FUCK.

I’m a grade A loser.

Two days ago, I had Katarina right here, in my house. I can still smell her perfume, a combination of cherries and honey, and every time I get a hint of that smell it makes me harder than I already am.

Seriously, I’ve been walking around for two days with a hard-on that would frighten a gorilla, and I’m beginning to wonder if it’s ever going to go back down.

Probably not. Because the only solution I can think of is to get it inside her, and since she’s no longer here that doesn’t seem to be an option.

Like I said: grade A loser.

I had her here, and I let her go, and I didn’t even say what I wanted to say. Not any of the words I wanted to say. She probably thinks my vocabulary runs to occasional grunts and one-syllable words.

Miss Muffet didn’t take any more easily to Katarina being gone than I did, to tell the truth. She was calm while Katarina was here, while we were together, then the moment she left the claws came back out. Literally. The furniture that hadn’t been ruined already didn’t last long, and I still have teeth marks in my nose from where she decided to take a long, hard bite.