Pretty Kitty Read online

  At last he hung her thin purse around his neck, lifted Aisha in his arms—Jesus, she was light as a feather—and carried her out the back door. Next question—her car? His car? He decided to take hers and leave his in the lot, since he didn’t know how long he’d need to be at her place. If anyone wanted to trash a vehicle, better his than Aisha’s.

  After he had her buckled into the passenger seat, he fished in her purse for her wallet and pulled out her driver’s license to check her address. Close by. Good.

  He had to physically restrain himself from running the tips of his fingers over her mouth-watering breasts that peaked at him so temptingly from the low neckline of her dress. Or smoothing them down the line of her hip and thigh. Sliding them beneath the short skirt of the dress.

  Jesus, Rogan!

  He mentally shook himself. What kind of perv was he, anyway? Still cursing under his breath he pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the street. The sooner he got her into her own place the better for both of them.

  And all the while he’d been busy getting her in the car, heading towards her apartment, he’d never noticed the car at the kerb across the street from the club, or the man sitting in it, watching them.

  Chapter Two

  Of course she had to live on the second floor of the building in her apartment complex. And of course it had no elevator. Max was just damn glad he hadn’t been one of the guys moving her in.

  He balanced her against him, holding onto her tightly with one arm as he fiddled with her keys until he found the right one, pushed the door open and stepped gratefully inside. Groping with his free hand, he found a light switched and flicked it on. A small overhead light came to life, giving him just enough illumination to get his bearing. Straight ahead was the living room/dining room and beyond that he could see a small kitchen separated from the rest of the room by a raised counter. To the right was a little hall that he assumed led to her bedroom.

  Sighing, he adjusted her in his grip and carried her to the first open door. Bingo. The switch on the wall this time turned on a lamp beside the bed. He carried her over to the bed and set her on her feet, but before he could do anything else she had draped herself against his body, her arms hanging around his neck. A neck that at the moment she was licking enthusiastically.

  “Ease up, sugar.” He unwound her arms and pushed her back a little.

  “No,” she moaned. “Wanna kiss you.”

  Did she even know who he was?

  “C’mon, Maxie. Stick your tongue in my mouth.”

  Well, okay. That answered one question. But no way was he giving in to her. “Time for bed, sugar.”

  Tossing aside the fluffy throw pillows and pulling back the covers, he placed Aisha carefully on the bed, taking off her shoes and lifting her feet. Before he could straighten up she grabbed his hand.

  “Want you in here with me. C’mon, Maxie. Come fuck me.”

  The shock of her words jolted his system and made his already hard cock throb painfully. “Not tonight, Aisha. You need to go to sleep.”

  ”Sleep with you,” she mumbled.

  “Uh, uh, little kitty. Not tonight.”

  He managed to disengage her hand from his and place it next to her body. In a moment her breathing evened out and he realised she was asleep. He knew he probably should remove at least her dress but he didn’t trust himself that much. He had only so much self-control. He stood looking down at her for a long moment. She was so beautiful with her face relaxed and the soft light casting a glow on her. For one brief moment he allowed himself to acknowledge how very much he wanted her. Even if she couldn’t shift.

  Then he sighed, pulled the covers up and turned off the lamp. He relieved himself in the small bathroom then looked through the linen closet and found an extra pillow and a blanket. He didn’t feel good about leaving her alone like this. What if she got sick? Or tried to get up and fell, hitting her head?

  As drunk as she was, he didn’t think she should be on her own. He’d just stay until whenever she woke up, get her to take him back to the bar and be out of her hair.

  Just in case, he turned on a small table lamp before settling on the couch for however long he’d be there. He wished he could stop thinking about Aisha in the other room. Aisha on the bed. Aisha naked. Wait. Where had that come from?

  Get your brain out of your crotch, Rogan.

  Closing his eyes he forced himself to relax and in moments drifted off into a light sleep, only to jerk wide awake at the touch of a hand on his shoulder and a soft voice in his ear.

  Aisha opened her eyes to complete darkness and groaned. Her head felt like a jackhammer had been pounding on it and her stomach wanted to throw its contents up into her throat. What was the matter with her?

  Oh, right! An extra vodka stinger or five. And hadn’t that just been one of the dumber things she’d done. All she had to show for it was the beginning of a gigantic hangover.

  She managed to push herself up out of bed and onto her feet, staggering only slightly. Bed. House. Someone had taken the time to bring her home safely. Who? Certainly not one of the guys from The Litter Box. As little class as any of them had, he would have fucked her senseless and left her naked and drunk. So who, then? And where was her car? She hated the fact that she had no recollection of even leaving the club.

  When she was steady enough on her feet, she made her way into the bathroom, flicked on the light and splashed cold water on her face. Then she looked in the mirror. Big mistake.

  Who was the person with that makeup streaked face and puffy eyes? Damn! She must have really done it this time.

  But who the hell had brought her home?

  She noticed soft light seemed to be coming from the living room and that startled her. She never went to sleep with lights on in the house. Did her unknown saviour leave it for her? She stumbled towards the living room, using the wall for support, stopping when she noticed a lump on the couch. One that looked suspiciously like a body. But who?

  Inching closer she was startled to see Max Rogan stretched out with a pillow and blanket. Max? Was he the one who’d taken care of her? She reached a tentative hand down to touch his shoulder.

  “Max?”

  Instantly, he was awake and sitting up.

  “Aisha, honey, you should be in bed.” His gaze raked over her. “Maybe in something a little more comfortable.”

  “You brought me home. Thank you, Max.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, well, call it my good deed for the year. You certainly weren’t in any shape to get here yourself, and I wasn’t about to leave you to the predators hanging around.”

  “Thank you,” she said again, and collapsed into his lap.

  Oh, gods, he smelt so good. So earthy. So animal. So…so…cat. She wound her arms around his neck and pulled his face down to hers. Before she could stop and think what she was doing, she’d pressed her mouth to his, kissing him as hard as she could. She was stunned when he lifted his head and gently pulled her arms away from him.

  “Listen, Aisha, this isn’t such a good idea.”

  “Oh, no?” She gave him a half-sober grin. “Feels like a good idea to me.” She wriggled on his lap, her ass sliding on his very obvious erection. This was Max. Wonderful Max. How many times had she dreamt of being here with him just like this?

  When he stood up abruptly, she would have tumbled to the floor if he hadn’t had such a strong grip on her arms. She looked up into his face, puzzled.

  “Don’t you want me? It sure felt like you did.” A kernel of ice dropped into her stomach. “It’s because of all those guys, right? You think I’m just a slut.” Well, what did she expect? He’d watched her take home stranger after stranger. How could he possibly think anything else? She blinked her eyes against the tears gathering.

  “No, it’s not.” His voice sounded strained. “That’s not it at all.”

  “Then what?” she pleaded. “Tell me. Because you’re the one I’ve always wanted.”

  He sighed. �
�Aisha, you’re still half-drunk. You soaked yourself in alcohol tonight. You have no idea what you’re doing, and unlike those junkyard cats who sniff around you, I refuse to take advantage of you. I’m your friend.”

  She leaned into him, loving the feel of his hard body. Of his cock pressing into the soft flesh of her tummy. “Then be my friend, Max. Make me feel good.”

  Again he moved her away from him. “Not tonight, sugar. Not when you’re like this.” He kissed her forehead. “Let’s get you into the bathroom so you can shower and get into bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Come on. You’ll feel better, I promise you.”

  He turned on the shower for her, adjusted the spray, made sure she had towels, then backed out of the bathroom.

  “Get into bed as soon as you’re done. Get some sleep.”

  Aisha took time washing the bar smell out of her body and hair, lathering herself twice with jasmine-scented shower gel. The shampoo she used had a matching scent, the steam in the shower filled with the exotic fragrance. She even took time to shave her legs and under her arms, even though she’d done it early in the evening when she’d dressed to go out.

  Towelling herself off, she poured lotion into her hands and rubbed the creamy substance into every inch and crevice of her skin. She brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth twice, washing away the aftertaste of the vodka. She carefully blow-dried her hair, taming it into relaxed curls. A dab of perfume and she was ready.

  And sleep was the last thing she had on her mind. The shower had washed away the effects of the alcohol, her stomach didn’t seem to be rebelling any more and two aspirin took care of her headache. Wrapping a fresh towel around her body and knotting it at her breasts, she headed towards the living room. This might be her only chance with Max Rogan and she intended to take full advantage of it.

  The lamp was still lit in the living room, probably in case he needed to get up and minister to her drunken self. The soft light showed the outline of his body stretched out on the couch again, arms behind his head. Was he awake? Was he thinking about her? Was his cock still as hard as it had been earlier?

  She hoped so, because she planned to take full advantage of the fact. Finally, finally, she had Max in her apartment. Butterflies danced the mambo in her stomach and she was trembling with a bad case of nerves, but it was now or never. This was her best chance to make a move she’d never have the courage to try in the bar. She hoped in her current naked and perfumed state he could only hold her off for so long.

  She stood looking down at him for a long moment, trying to determine if he was really asleep or just faking it. The blanket he’d found was only pulled to the waist and he’d taken off his shirt. The sight of his hard-muscled chest with its thick pelt of rich black hair literally made her mouth water. She couldn’t stop staring at it. And at the unmistakeable bulge beneath the light covering. It must be something, to be so visible even with his jeans on. Her fingers flexed with the urge to reach out and touch him.

  She took one step closer, then another. Reached out a hand.

  “I’m awake,” he said, his deep voice so low and smooth.

  “Oh!” Now what?

  “Were you planning to stand there all night looking at me?”

  Aisha swallowed. “N-No. No, I was…I mean…”

  He opened his eyes. “You were what, pretty kitty? Going to touch me?”

  She wet her lips, suddenly shy. “Yes. I want to touch you, Max.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Aisha.”

  “Why?” Her shyness was displaced by a wave of irritation. “I’m not drunk anymore. Am I not good enough for you?” She unknotted the towel and dropped it to the floor. “Take a look, Max. Then tell me you don’t want me.”

  Before she could catch her breath, he reached out, grabbed her wrist and tumbled her down on top of him.

  “The problem isn’t that I don’t want you.” His voice was low and edgy. “It’s that I want you too much. So be damn sure you know what the hell you’re doing.”

  She stared into his darker than night eyes. “Oh, I’m sure, Max. Very sure.”

  Chapter Three

  Max knew his mouth should be watering but instead it was so dry he couldn’t swallow. Having his arms full of a very naked Aisha McClellan was enough to shock anyone’s system. Her skin was just as smooth as he knew it would be, the light touches he’d stolen earlier barely a hint of what lay beneath her clothing. Her breasts, small but firm, pushed into his chest, the hardened nipples like chiselled points boring holes into him.

  He let his hand drift down her back and over the curve of her ass, learning the dips and swells of her body. Oh, gods, her body. The things he wanted to do to it. Tamping down his misgivings, he shifted so they were lying on their sides and took her mouth that he’d wanted for so long. Her lips were full and sensuous, soft beneath his tongue as he licked them and traced the outline of them. When she parted them slightly in open invitation he swept in without hesitation, feasting on her. Gliding his tongue over her small one. Angling his head slightly he took the kiss deeper, afraid to miss even one inch of that warm, welcoming place.

  He didn’t want to break the contact, but for what he wanted to do to her, with her, he needed more space than this couch offered. Juggling her carefully, he managed to sit up, dispose of the light blanket and roll to his feet with her in his arms.

  “I know the way to your bedroom,” he murmured as he carried her down the short hallway.

  He stood her on her feet and took a moment to just savour the look of her. His hands reached out and cupped her breasts, thumbs rasping against the already pebbled nipples. He could see the hard thrum of her pulse in the hollow of her throat, beating in time with the throbbing of his swollen cock. She shivered slightly as his fingers lightly traced the line of her rib cage and moved across the surface of her tummy. It wasn’t from a chill, though. Looking into her eyes he saw a heat blazing as hot as his own.

  He leant down and licked her lips as his fingers travelled further down, finding the glossy nest of curls surrounding her cunt. He could already scent her arousal and hoped it was as fierce as his own. Moving one foot between hers, he nudged them apart to give him better access to her and sank his fingers into the wet flesh of her pussy. She was drenched, her slick cream coating his fingers. He rubbed it up and down the lips, from her clit to the opening of her vagina and back up to that swollen knot of nerves.

  Aisha shivered again but stood still beneath his exploration. Cupping a breast with one hand he slid two fingers of the other into her hot channel. When her inner muscles clamped down on him, his cock pressed so hard against his fly he was afraid he’d hurt himself. Very slowly he lifted his fingers and, with his gaze locked on hers, deliberately licked each finger clean.

  “Delicious,” he murmured. “Better than any drink I’ve ever mixed.” He reached down to scoop more onto his fingers then pushed them against her lips. “You taste, Aisha. Tell me how great it tastes.”

  She obediently licked his fingers then said in a wicked little voice, “I’d rather taste you.”

  “Oh, well.” He chuckled, a slightly uneven sound. “You’ll have plenty of chance to do that. Don’t you worry.”

  He kissed her again, tasting all the flavours of her on her lips while his fingers probed her pussy and his arm banded her trembling body to his. Holy shit, this woman was like liquid lightning, and it was shooting straight to his balls. They drew up tight, reminding him just how much this woman aroused him. Especially now that he was finally seeing her naked. And right here for him to touch and explore.

  With his hands gentle on her shoulders, he turned her around and swept her hair aside so he could kiss the nape of her neck. Another little shudder. Gods, she was so sensitive.

  He bent to trace the length of her spine with his tongue, ending at the curve of her heart-shaped ass. Cupping the globes in his hands he separated them, sucking in his br
eath at the sight of that warm crevice and the tight little ring of her anus.

  He moistened the tip of one finger and touched her there, circling the opening.

  “Those men, pretty kitty. The ones I know didn’t mean shit to you. Did you ever let any of them fuck you here?” He pressed the opening a little harder.

  She shook her head, her body trembling.

  “I want to hear you say it,” he insisted.

  “No. No. None of them.”

  “Why?” He had to know the answer. “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because it was…it was…it was too personal.”

  A fist of emotion held him with a grip of steel. All right then. The obsessive urge to make her his, to brand her, to let all the others know she was now his, rode through him like a storm.

  “Tonight I’m going to fuck you here,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m going to fuck your ass and after that there won’t be anyone for you but me. Do you understand, little cat?”

  Her body tensed. “But what if…”

  “What if?” he urged.

  “What if I can’t, you know, come?” Tears laced her voice. “I’ll still be a freak and I’ll have lost you.”

  He turned her around and cupped her chin, tilting her face up to his. “Listen to me. Tonight, I am going to give you the biggest orgasm of anyone’s life. You will know pleasure you never would have believed. Then you’ll be able to shift and you’ll be mine.” He brushed his mouth against hers. “Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he told her. “Wanted to knock all those other assholes out of the way and make you mine. But I watched what happened to the other men you were with. How you acted afterwards. I just…didn’t want to be another faceless body to you. But tonight…I, don’t know, things are different, right? This is different. So I’m just going to do it. Because tonight…I think tonight was meant to be. For us.” He kissed her again. “Do you trust me?”