The Tomcats Tame the Domme [The Shifters of Catamount, Texas 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Josie Hunter

  * * * *

  “And you, Gallagher, I’ve seen you eyeing my breasts.”

  She brushed her fingers across the swell of her breasts, her index finger dipping into the cleavage and running up and down between them. She ran her finger in a circle over one nipple then the other. “That feels good,” she whispered. “Would you like to touch my nipple?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  She crooked her finger, and he sailed toward her without thought. She thrust her breasts toward him, but the moment he reached toward her, she took a step backward.

  “It’s my body,” she said softly. “Only I can touch there, but if you had permission to touch, what would you like to do to me?”

  Marcus licked his lips, his eyes lifting to hers. “Fulfill your greatest desire.”

  “Ah, my greatest desire.” She stared at him, looking for something in his eyes. “Can you give me everything I’ve ever wanted, Gallagher?”

  “I would try, Mistress.”

  “Try…a word for the faint of heart,” she said lightly. “Such a wishy-washy word. A word that dilutes every human endeavor to a mere possibility.” She pressed her cheek against his and whispered in his ear. “There should be no try, Gallagher. As a Tomcat, do you perform your job around such a banal word?”

  “No, Mistress.” He stood up straight. “I decide. I succeed.”

  She pulled back to stare into his eyes, and what he saw rocked him to his core. A touch of a plea hovered in her eyes, as though she were begging him to give her exactly what he’d offered—her greatest desire. If he only knew what that was, he would hand it to her by the end of the day.

  “Then why try with me, Gallagher? Why not simply”—she licked her lips—“succeed?”

  He dropped his eyes, and his gaze landed on those fuck-me pumps. “Permission to speak honestly, Mistress.”

  “Granted.”

  She took a step back and tapped the flogger against his thigh. The steady rhythm and the slide of the lashes against the back of his leg helped him concentrate. He took a moment to pull his thoughts together. “You’re a very…cool and collected…aloof woman, Mistress. We hesitate to approach you outside of these walls.”

  She twisted her face toward Steve. “Is that true?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” Steve said, meeting her eyes.

  “But I’m just…” Her forehead crinkled. “Outside of these walls, I’m just a woman.”

  Marcus couldn’t help himself. A laugh burst out of him before he could stop it. “Just a woman?” he asked incredulously. “Now there’s the understatement of the year.”

  Rosa’s jaw dropped, but she recovered quickly. Before he knew she’d moved behind him, the flogger snapped against his ass. Marcus lurched with the sweet sting.

  “Did I give you permission to laugh?” Rosa asked in a singsong voice, a voice even sweeter than the pain.

  “No, ma’am.”

  Beside him, Steve straightened to his full, considerable height. “He’s right, ma’am.”

  Her face swiveled toward him. “Harris? Are you speaking out of turn?”

  “I am, ma’am.”

  “That’s not allowed, and I—”

  “Zebra.”

  She gasped and drew back. “Your safe word?” Her gaze darted rapidly between them. “And you, Gallagher?”

  “Caribou.”

  “Goddamn it! This is not what a safe word is for! You want to talk?”

  She stomped her fuck-me pump against the hardwood and hurled the flogger at the floor. She snatched the mask off her face, and it sailed across the room like a giant red butterfly. Marcus watched her jaw tighten as she stormed across the room. She gathered up several items of clothing from the floor then tossed them toward him. The pants belonged to Steve so he threw them in his friend’s direction. When a pair of boots—one of his, one of Steve’s—came crashing in their direction, they both ducked.

  “Now, Rosa, come on,” Steve said, holding up his hands.

  “Shut up,” she said, scooping up another shirt. “The session is over. I want you out of my room. Zebra? Caribou? Goddamn it!”

  Marcus took a step toward her, but she froze him in his spot with a glare. He reached down and found his pants. Steve did the same.

  “We need to talk,” he said gently, yanking the pants up his legs.

  “No, we do not,” she spat at him.

  “We do,” Steve said.

  She spread her arms out to include the entire room. “This is my safe place, the place I don’t have to talk, the place I don’t have to think.”

  “But we have something on our minds,” Marcus said. “Something that includes you and—”

  “No,” Rosa said, shaking her head. “Not here. Not today.”

  She continued to shake her head. She marched to the other side of the room, yanked open the closet, and snatched a silk robe from it, leaving the hanger violently rocking back and forth. After she’d slammed her arms through it and tied the belt, she raked her hair away from her face then folded her arms across her chest. She looked to be shivering, and Marcus took a step forward, wanting to wrap her in his arms, not only for warmth but for comfort.

  She lurched backward. “No. I need you to leave now.” She glanced between them. “Both of you.”

  “Rosa,” Marcus said, “we want to be with you.” He gestured around the room. “Not here—at least not only here. We want you in our lives. We want to share things with you, have you share things with us.”

  “What sorts of things?” she spat out. “Feelings, wants, desires? Oh, that sounds way too vanilla for someone like me. I’m not interested.”

  “You don’t have feelings?” Steve asked. “Wants? Desires?”

  “Everything I wanted today was in this room,” Rosa said, giving them both dirty looks, “but you had to use your safe words and ruin everything.” She began to stalk around the room, grabbing paddles and tossing them toward her toy chest. Her voice grew softer as she picked up her equipment, as though she’d forgotten they were there and was thinking out loud. “I needed tonight, damn it. I needed to know I still had control, that it couldn’t be stolen from me, that I deserved to have this life. It’s my life. Mine.”

  Her voice caught on what sounded like a sob, and Marcus took another step toward her.

  She spun toward them, the silky robe wrapping around her body like a second skin. “Stay where you are.” She grabbed Steve’s cowboy hat from the floor and began to manhandle it in her fists.

  “Watch the brim, darlin’,” Steve said.

  If she heard him, she gave no indication. She continued to worry the brim with her hands, as though the movement of her fingers alone gave her comfort.

  “Fuck,” Steve whispered.

  “Man up,” Marcus said. “We have more important things to worry about right now than your goddamned hat.”

  “I paid a fortune for that hat,” Steve said sadly then nodded. “But you’re right. We have more important things to worry about. I’ll make Robb buy me another.” He whispered from the side of his mouth, “Go on now. Work your magic, Romeo.”

  Marcus shrugged into his shirt and took several slow, cautious steps toward her. The last thing he wanted was an angry serpent-shifter on his ass. “We want to be in your life, Rosa. Not just here.” He paused when she glanced up at him. “Everywhere.”

  “Everywhere?” she asked softly.

  Marcus nodded, took the hat from her hands, and placed it on the chest of drawers. “Yes, both of us.” He gestured to Steve. “And Robb as well. He’s talked to you, right? About the four of us being together? In a relationship?”

  “Sí, he talked to me. A bit.”

  There was a defeatist tone in her voice, and Marcus suddenly wondered if Robb had screwed the pooch. Maybe that was why they hadn’t heard from him. This was not going the way he’d planned, but he could fix it. He knew he could.

  “I want to give you the world, Rosa.” He waited until she lifted her gaze to his. “I love you. I
’ve loved you for a while.”

  “I don’t believe that. I am collected, aloof.” She held up her hand when he opened his mouth. “Stop. You said it. It cannot be taken back.”

  “I happen to like cool and collected,” he said quietly.

  “And I like aloof,” Steve said.

  “They did not sound like compliments to me,” she said with a huff.

  “I don’t think you mean to be any of those things,” Marcus said, going for broke. Man, he should shut up now, but he couldn’t help himself. “I think they’re all part of your nature, but I also think…I think you’re afraid.”

  “Afraid?” Her eyes widened. “I am a serpent-shifter. Why on earth would I be afraid?”

  Steve shuffled his feet. “Because you’re not like other serpent-shifters.”

  “Oh, I am,” Rosa said, then pressed her lips together. “I am far more like them than anyone will ever know. I’m poison.” She practically spat the last word at them.

  “You’re not,” Marcus said softly.

  “Oh, sí, I am. And if you allow me into your life, I will bring more poison and suffering than you can imagine.” She swallowed hard, and the rest of her words came out in a whisper. “I won’t mean to, but I will. We share blood, we share history, we share unimaginable things. Some of them I don’t even know.” Her breath came out in a shudder. “Some of them I don’t want to know.”

  “Rosa, sweetheart…”

  Marcus couldn’t stop himself. He went toward her quickly and wrapped his arms around her. Immediately, she settled against him, her face pushing into the crease of his neck.

  “We want to make you happy,” he murmured against her hair.

  “Happiness.” She sighed. “I’m not sure I deserve it. I don’t know why I even bothered wanting it, wishing for it, looking for it.” She lifted her face and studied his eyes. “There’s so much to happiness. So much to hope for. Can you give me pleasure… comfort…joy…peace…security?” For one moment, he saw a very vulnerable Rosa, a woman searching for love, hoping for forever.

  “Perhaps not on my own,” Marcus said. “But Steve, Robb, and I, all three of us, want to try to give you all of that and more. Together. We want you to be our woman, Rosa. Ours.”

  “But I’m poison,” she said again.

  Steve came toward them and began to stroke her hair. “We’ll work it out, Rosa. Trust us.”

  “A leopard cannot change its spots,” Rosa said.

  “We’re panthers, remember?” Steve said with a small laugh.

  “Technically they’re the same thing,” Marcus murmured. “At least in nature.” Then he stopped talking. Now was not the time for semantics or a biology lecture. Even though each cat-shifter based his identity on colorization, he understood her meaning. Steve had it wrong. She wasn’t talking about them.

  Rosa bit her lip and gave a small smile. “I wasn’t talking of you. I was talking of me. I am a serpent-shifter. There is a history to my species, a melding with the denizens of the nest. Most cannot resist the pull of what we are, the need to be together.”

  “You have,” Marcus said.

  “I’ve tried.” Rosa shook her head. “But perhaps I am what I am, and my nature cannot be avoided. No matter how hard I try.”

  “Not true,” Steve said. “But if that’s really the case, if there’s something in you that you can’t resist, we’ll find the antidote for this poison of yours.” She twisted toward him, and he smiled. “And we’ll all take it.”

  “Such a lovely dream,” Rosa said, sliding her hand down his cheek. She turned back to Marcus. “There are complications to this possible arrangement, and I want to do nothing to hurt any of you.”

  Marcus shook his head. “You won’t.”

  “Toucan,” Rosa said.

  Steve burst out laughing, and Marcus frowned. “What does that mean?” he asked.

  “It’s my safe word,” Rosa said. “If something goes wrong, if I need you to leave me alone”—he opened his mouth, and she slapped her hand against his chest—“for whatever reason, if I say ‘toucan,’ you must back off. Are we agreed?”

  Marcus caught Steve’s nod from the corner of his eye. He had no idea what possible things were on her mind, but she was serious, and he wanted her any way he could have her—even with conditions.

  “Toucan it is,” he said.

  She sidled away from them with a smile, tightening the belt of her robe. “Now you must leave me to think.”

  “We’ll see you soon?” Steve asked.

  “Sí, very soon.”

  “How soon?” Marcus asked. He couldn’t leave the room without a commitment.

  She tilted her head, her gaze moving between them. Her soft hair brushed over the silk. “We have a standing date on Thursday, do we not?”

  “Hot damn,” Steve said, grabbing his hat. “We’ll be here with bells on.”

  “Oh,” Rosa said in a very sensual voice, “allow me to put the bells on.”

  He and Steve were laughing as they grabbed their boots and walked out the door. Marcus couldn’t wait to see what Thursday brought.

  Chapter 7

  Robb was reaching for the bill folder to pay for lunch on Wednesday when his phone rang. He fished it from his pocket, and his forehead scrunched when he saw the number displayed. He didn’t recognize it, but knowing Bobby, he might have forgotten his phone. He borrowed his friends’ phones all the time.

  “Jackson here.”

  “Tomcat Seis, hola.”

  “Lucia?”

  “Sí, Tomcat, es Lucia.”

  “I’m on my way back to the ranch now. Is there a problem? Is everything okay?” He dug out his wallet and quickly dropped a ten and a five on the table for Stephanie’s tip before moving toward the counter with the bill folder. Damn, what else could go wrong today? They’d already had an alert about a possible flyover and had spotted a big damn bird of prey—maybe an eagle—hovering near the perimeter. Sometimes a bird was just a bird, but sometimes it was a lot more.

  “Oh, sí, sí,” the old woman said. “Everything is fine. Tranquilo. Most are swimming. Peces, all of them.”

  Fish. Yeah, that just about said it all. For a bunch of cats, they sure liked their water.

  “Except for Cougar of course,” Lucia continued. “He watches the sky like a hawk.” She paused for a moment then said, “Es un día caluroso, no?”

  “Very hot.” He glanced out the front window of Delectable, where Marcus and Steve waited under the awning. He could bet Lucia hadn’t called him to discuss the weather.

  “Ella está aqui,” Lucia said cryptically. “She came to swim with the niña and Carlita.”

  He handed over a fifty in the bill folder and waited for his change. “Who’s there, Lucia?” he asked, though he had a pretty good idea.

  “Mi Rosa.”

  “Oh.” Now the call was beginning to make more sense. He grabbed the change and his receipt and stuffed them in his wallet, balancing the phone against his shoulder. Not a good maneuver because he nearly dropped it. “And did Rosa say something?”

  He nodded to the hostess and headed to the door. He put his phone on speaker so the other two men could listen.

  “Oh, sí. She say plenty. Most of it very, very good. Congratulations, Tomcat Seis. You and your friends may have found a new playmate.”

  Steve yanked the hat off his head and swung it in the air, and Marcus pumped his fist in the air and let out a whoop.

  Robb laughed. “I’m really glad to hear that, Lucia. It’s nice to know she’s at least discussing the possibility.”

  “Oh, sí. Voicing plenty. More than just a possibility I think. I hear all about you…about Tomcat Ocho…about Tomcat Quince…Carlita and I hear all about it.” She chuckled. “Lucky Rosa to have such men.”

  Steve and Marcus were beaming from ear to ear, and Robb figured he might have a similar look on his face.

  “But, Tomcat…” Lucia’s voice had taken on a more serious tone.

  “Yes,
Lucia?”

  “There is another reason I have called you.” He heard her take a hefty breath, and both Steve and Marcus glanced at him with concern. “Es su padre.”

  Damn, something else had happened? “He called last week.”

  “He has called more than that,” Lucia said sadly. He could almost see her shaking her head, the gray bun at the back of her neck swaying in sympathy. “She plans to meet him somewhere tonight.”

  “Fuck,” Robb said then winced. “I’m sorry, Lucia.”

  “It is a word I’ve heard many times,” she said with a chuckle, but then she grew serious once more. “No estoy feliz.” He got that, but she translated anyway. “I am not happy, Tomcat.”

  “Neither am I, Lucia. Do you know why they’re meeting?”

  “Sí, pero, el hijo de la puta…he lies, Tomcat. Lies. He tells my Rosa he is sick, dying. That he needs her blood to save him. He works that serpent juju against her, and suddenly my Rosa becomes his daughter, after twenty-eight years, and says she will help him.” Her voice broke as she began to sob.

  “Ah, Lucia, please don’t cry.”

  “I have talked to Ty, but he says Rosa is a big girl.” She spat, and he hoped she was at least standing in the kitchen doorway. “Ha! She might be a big girl, but this is loco. Ty is a good man, but he is being foolish in not listening to Lucia. Ty…he says Esteban Santos is a respected man, a businessman, that he would never do the things I think.”

  “What do you think, Lucia?” He almost hated to hear it.

  She spat again. “Es un asesino.” She waited just a beat before she said, “A killer.”

  Christ. He ran a hand over his mouth as he met the eyes of the other two men.

  “And you really believe that, Lucia?”

  “I do not have to believe it,” Lucia said firmly. “Rosa’s mother, mi amiga, believed it. That is good enough for Lucia.”

  “Then it’s good enough for me too, Lucia.”

  “Thank you, Tomcat,” she said with a sigh. “You can fix this, sí? Please fix this.”

  “I’ll do everything I can, Lucia. That’s a promise. Where is he meeting her?”