But we weren’t alone.
If the meow hadn’t done it, the quiet, “Sorry, he escaped,” did. I stepped back, my breath ragged and bent down, picking up the kitten that was clawing at my jeans, trying to climb his way to my shoulder.
Caroline stood in the doorway, uncertain if she should leave or stay. I smiled at her, tracing my thumb across Shelby’s bottom lip. God, I loved to bite that lip.
“Someone likes you,” Shelby said quietly.
I looked over to the kitten that was nestled happily again by my neck. He did seem to have taken to me. “Pussies do like me.” I winked at her. “I mean, what’s not to like? Where did he come from?”
Shelby gave me a pointed look, rolling her eyes, before explaining. “I was dropping off a donation at the shelter. He was abandoned, and he needed a home—he was down to his last day.” Her eyes were pleading. “I couldn’t leave him, Liam. I couldn’t.”
Her tender heart made my own ache. She cared so much about everything. “It’s fine, Beaker. He’s welcome.” I tickled his chin as he purred happily. My new mate. “But we aren’t calling him Fuzzball. That is all sorts of wrong. He needs a good, strong, male name.”
“What’s wrong with Fuzzball?”
I leaned down, my lips against her ear. “I already have one soft, fuzzy pussy in the house I like to play with. This wee guy is gonna be my mate. He needs a different name.” I bit down on her lobe, pulling it with my teeth.
She shivered and swallowed; her voice was husky. “What are we calling him?”
I looked at his rugged face and big paws. He was going to be a monster when he grew. I grinned at her. “Thor.”
“Thor?”
“Yeah. He looks like a tough little bugger. I like it.” He licked my finger. “See, he agrees.”
She rolled her eyes but agreed. “Okay, Thor it is.”
I grabbed her chin and kissed her. Hard. Deep.
“Thor and I are hungry. We need you to take care of that for us.”
Her eyes crinkled as she grinned saucily. “For food, right?”
I kissed her again, pressing my lips to hers firmly. “For now.” Then I grinned. “I smell turkey?”
“Yes.”
“I want sandwiches.”
She stared at me, slowly trailing her tongue over her bottom lip.
“I want you even more,” I murmured.
“Caroline,” she whispered. “I can’t just kick her out.”
Pulling back, I winked at her. I wanted her alone—and soon. “I’ve got it covered.”
I turned to Caroline, who was watching us with a smile. “Come in and join us, Caroline. I have to make a call, but I’ll be right back.”
I scratched Thor under the chin as I walked down the hall, dialing the phone.
“Hey Douglas, can I interest you in the best-tasting sandwich you’ve ever had?”
I grinned at his enthusiastic reply.
“Great. Come on over.”19LiamLunch was great. Douglas was as crazy for Shelby’s sandwiches as I was, and in my opinion, ate far too many of them—I even had to share the pickles. I sat back, watching Caroline charm the pants off Douglas. She was funny, smart, and articulate. They had many shared interests including her photography. Turned out he knew her work and was a fan. She, in turn, admired his films.
Shelby, as usual, was right. They were perfect for each other. But I wanted them to be perfect for each other somewhere else.
They were far too comfortable sitting at my table, eating and talking. I wanted Shelby to myself, but she seemed to be enjoying their company a little too much. I needed to remind her why I invited Douglas over in the first place. I was hoping he would take Caroline out for a while, and I needed to make him think it was his idea.
Shelby was driving me mental. Every time she leaned forward, I caught a glimpse of the top of her breasts peeking out from her shirt. I wanted to touch them—with my tongue. Her voice seemed huskier today, her laughter sultrier, which made me need to feel her lips underneath mine. When she moved her head, I could smell the fragrance of her hair. I wanted to bury my face in it. Each time she shifted in her chair, I wanted to feel her moving underneath me. Or on top—I wasn’t picky right now. When her hand would land on my thigh, my cock twitched a little trying to get to her. It was like a fucking heat-seeking missile and Shelby’s pussy was the target. He wanted her. I wanted her. Soon.
I needed her to understand that.
Casually, I stood and strolled to the refrigerator, grabbed the jug from the shelf, took a glass from the cupboard, and set the orange juice in front of Shelby with a loud thump. Smiling, I poured her a glass and pushed it toward her.
Douglas looked at me. “Did I miss something?”