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Bad Kitty: A Naughty Halloween Romance

Page 3

by Quinn, Taryn


  “Hey, wait a second. I need a costume.”

  East flashed him a grin as he slipped on his sunglasses. “All taken care of. Missy will give it to you when you arrive.”

  “What is it?”

  “You’ll see soon enough. Just be glad Missy’s handling the decorations again and all you have to do is smile and look pretty.” With another grin, East climbed into his gleaming money rocket and sped off.

  Patrick wiped the sweat off his forehead and headed toward the house. If it was another damn monk getup, East was going to be missing a nut for the holiday season.

  Four

  Nikki sipped punch in Easton’s plushly appointed living room, her back warm from the fireplace behind her, and glanced around to take everything in. The room was decked out in its Halloween best. Fake cobwebs dripped from the ceiling, fat pumpkins, usually accompanied by a broom-riding witch, cheered up the corners, and skulls with glowing purple eye sockets menaced from every table. Costumes ranged from the scary to the sublime, from tacky to traditional. Creatures of the night mingled with princesses and fairies, but she hadn’t seen one other Domme kitty.

  Hiding a smirk, she swallowed more of the fruity, alcohol-laced punch. She felt strangely exposed in this outfit, though only the valley between her breasts and her toes and ankles were on display. Well, and all her curves. She couldn’t have hidden them in this stretchy bodysuit even if she’d wanted to.

  Her jutting breasts had become weapons of mass destruction, thanks to the oodles of tape she’d used to get them into position. She considered the lack of a bra a mixed blessing. On the plus side, her nipples remained perpetually tight from the material whispering over them. On the minus side, her nipples remained perpetually tight. She’d gotten more than her share of ogling since she’d arrived twenty minutes ago, which had been kind of fun but also vaguely disconcerting. Random hookups weren’t her thing any longer, last year aside.

  Yet she was here to sleep with Patrick. Who wasn’t random, and who wouldn’t be sleeping when their bodies did the bump and rub.

  If he ever showed.

  Supposedly he was around somewhere. Supposedly. She’d yet to see him or Easton, which didn’t really bother her. It kind of skeeved her out to look into her boss’s eyes and think of his brother’s cock pounding into her. Though she was willing to get used to the sensation if it meant she’d get another round with that cock. And that man.

  She shivered and adjusted her kitty ears. The headband kept slipping on her unnaturally sleek hair. She’d straightened it for the occasion, and the black layers draped over her shoulders. Having straight hair made her feel like she really was in disguise. That tonight didn’t have to mean more than she let it. This party would be fun, just a rollicking good time.

  Please, God, let it be a good time.

  “Hey there, pretty kitty. Want to dance?”

  She smiled at the pirate beside her. If she’d been here to meet someone new, he would’ve been a fine choice. His eyepatch made him look rakish and he had one hell of a chest. Which happened to be right at her eye level and—

  “The lady’s with me.” The low growl sounded near her other ear and she whirled, caught between the two looming male bodies. Not entirely a bad place to be.

  She looked up into the other man’s face, only able to discern dark, threatening eyes and the long jump of his nose under his dark red hood.

  Another hood. Patrick.

  Her blood thrummed and her skin heated as if she’d stepped backward into the fire.

  “Am I?” she asked, flicking her tongue along the rim of her glass to catch the stray drops of punch.

  Was this their little ritual now? Halloween hookups followed by a year of frustrated nights?

  Well, it wouldn’t be going forward. Not if she had anything to say about it.

  “Yes.” He grabbed hold of her hip, tugging her against his side until his strangely potent scent poured over her. He smelled of wood, clean air, a faint hint of sweat and…tar? Whatever the components, they inspired a fresh rush of arousal between her thighs.

  With a smile and a shrug, the pirate left them alone.

  Silence descended and hung as heavy as smoke between them. Nikki smoothed a hand down her stomach to make sure there weren’t any unflattering wrinkles in the material, her senses already reeling.

  God, he made her ache. She wanted to strip off his hood and straddle him right here. How much longer could she wait to have him again?

  When it became obvious he didn’t intend to speak, she took the initiative. “What’re you supposed to be?” she drawled, looking him up and down.

  “Fucking devil.” Again that growl emanated from under the hood, eliciting both a laugh and a shudder.

  “Does that mean you’re a devil that fucks or that you’re not pleased with your costume?”

  She was. Oh yes, indeed. He may have been in hooded garb yet again, swaddled head to toe in crimson material, but she liked the spooky look of him. Plus the hood was hot. Hell, it had worked for her last year. And that one had been puke brown, not sexy, tempting red.

  “Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?”

  As if she’d resist that offer.

  She turned into his arms, lifting her face to his until his warm breath streamed over her mouth. Her nipples hardened further, pressing against her bodysuit in their eagerness for him to touch them. To touch all of her. She craved the feeling of him inside her again. In her pussy. In her mouth. In her ass.

  Last year she’d only experienced one of the three. This year, she wouldn’t be denied.

  He reached up and traced her lower lip with his thumb, then angled down to dart his tongue over the plump flesh. “Been in the punch again. Just like last year. Some kitties never change.”

  “Guess not.” Watching him, she lifted the glass and sipped, deliberately letting a little splash on her chin. “Oops.”

  His chest puffed out. “You’re a tease.”

  “Oh no, I’m not. I deliver everything that I’m offering.” She whisked her knuckles over her damp skin and held up her hand, unsurprised when he seized her wrist and licked from the web of her thumb and forefinger to the tip of her nail. Then he started to suck her finger, his gaze never leaving hers as a vicious throb erupted in her core.

  She gasped and glanced around, certain everyone would be watching them, but no one seemed to notice as Patrick made her into a feast. They kept dancing and talking, happily oblivious to Nikki’s inner explosions a few feet away.

  Not that she’d exploded yet. But if he kept swallowing her finger like that…

  He leaned closer and brushed his lips over her temple. He was so tall and big, his hulking body turning her on even more when she could only imagine the ripped planes and contours of it beneath his disguise. “I got you all wet.” He curled her fingers into his large hand, squeezing them. “Sorry about that.”

  She set her empty punch glass on a nearby table and then stepped back into the circle of his arms, drawing her tail up between them. She flicked the black pom-pom on the end over his stomach and met his eyes. “Not nearly wet enough. What are you going to do about that?”

  His teeth flashed in a predatory smile and he jerked back his hood just enough for her to catch his expression. The heat and the carnality of it blazed through her, loosening the last of her inhibitions. Why did he have this power over her? He made her want in ways she hadn’t in so long.

  “The basement door’s unlocked.” He lowered his head and nudged her hair out of his way with his nose before exploring her ear with a silky stroke of his tongue. She moaned aloud, unable to stifle the sound. “Go wait for me.”

  She nodded briskly, putting a sway in her walk as she headed for the basement. As if she could’ve forgotten where it was. The door was next to the alcove where they’d fucked last Halloween.

  Nikki cast a quick glance over her shoulder, then she opened the door and descended into the dark, her heart racing in her chest and her sex clenching
in anticipation.

  A year. She’d waited for him for an entire year. For what reason, she had no clue. He obviously still found her attractive. Maybe he was concerned about disrupting his brother’s small office with a romance. Or an affair. She didn’t mind a one-night stand, if both parties were agreeable.

  Since they were heading toward two-night territory, in this case both parties clearly weren’t.

  So Patrick had some explaining to do. And if he asked her why she hadn’t made an issue out of their night during one of his numerous office visits over the past year, she’d have to examine her own conscience because she didn’t know. She’d wanted him to make the first move, but she’d also had incredible sex with him without benefit of much conversation first. Traditional courting rituals didn’t really apply.

  Thoughtfully she pulled her tail up between her legs, jolting as the leather bit into her slick seam. A moan slipped from her lips.

  They’d talk. Much later. First she was going to make him hurt so good.

  Five

  Patrick didn’t hurry downstairs. He wanted to. His pulse had skyrocketed the minute he’d laid eyes on Nikki in that skintight bodysuit and glimpsed those flirty little kitty ears astride her dark hair. He’d become hard in an instant.

  At least there was one benefit to the latest ridiculous getup his stupid twin had saddled him with. The miles of fabric hid his massive erection, which still ached though she’d been gone for fifteen minutes.

  He had to have her. Every part of her body this time. Her pussy tightening around him, her breasts beading as he sucked each of them into his mouth. She smelled so good, like brown sugar warmed in the summer sun. He wanted to spear his tongue deep inside her, to taste every drop of her release when she came.

  Soon. First, he had to make sure East’s guests would be fine without him. Last year he’d held on to himself longer. The night had been practically over when he’d begun his midnight pillaging. Unfortunately, this night was still young. He couldn’t escape just yet.

  For the next twenty minutes, he made his rounds. There was plenty of food and drink and the selection of music kept the dance floor moving. All thanks to Missy, East’s housekeeper. If she were still there, he would’ve left caretaking the festivities to her but East had given her the night off so she could take her grandkids trick-or-treating.

  He was, as usual, on his own.

  Most of the guests assumed he was East and he didn’t dissuade them. Somehow the costumes East had chosen for him each year—he claimed he’d picked out both costumes for himself long in advance, not knowing he wouldn’t be able to attend the party—made Patrick think he’d planned the ruse. He probably got a kick out of trapping his twin in miles of hot, claustrophobic fabric.

  They’d been pretending to be each other when it suited them since first grade. Playing the role of the smooth up and coming real estate magnate fit him as easily as the robe he wore. Especially since he knew he’d shed both by the end of the night.

  He grinned evilly and adjusted his hood. Now that he’d done his duty, he needed to see to another sort of task altogether. He hadn’t meant to take so long. If his luck held, Nikki would be dripping and writhing from anticipating his arrival.

  He should’ve told her to strip. To lay down on the old couch in the basement and pleasure herself until he got downstairs. But not to the point of orgasm. Just enough to keep her primed and wet for him.

  “Someone looks pretty pleased with themselves.”

  He glanced at the woman who glided up beside him and let out a mental groan. Abby. Why the hell had his brother invited his ex?

  Because she’s a client, that’s why. When someone needs a house in central Pennsylvania who else would they call but Easton Nolan, house broker extraordinaire?

  “Uh, hi, Abby. Nice to see you.” He started edging away. “Have a great time tonight, okay?”

  “Only if you’ll join me.” Her silken purr stirred only displeasure as she rubbed against him. “The hot tub would be perfect on a cool night like tonight, East, don’t you think?”

  Oh hell no. Easton and Abby? For real? Here he’d treaded so gently with Nikki, not wanting to disrupt East’s perfectly ordered business and set tongues wagging in their tiny, patrician town. Even though Nikki was East’s secretary, not his, people would talk. They always talked.

  Of course, fucking her under the stairs at his brother’s party hadn’t been wise, but he’d practiced discretion afterward. Better late than never. He’d steered clear of Nikki after he’d returned from North Carolina, knowing how much East valued the clear delineation between business and pleasure. That whole thing about not being sure Nikki realized which brother she’d been with had slowed him down, too. Add in Nikki’s seeming adoration of East and Patrick hadn’t wanted to go there.

  He’d tried to chalk their amazing night up to good timing—and possibly, mistaken identity—and leave it at that. Tried and failed.

  And yet East was boning Patrick’s ex. An ex he’d dated for more than a year. Frigging great. Especially since they’d split because Patrick wanted to get married and she didn’t. It had been a couple years ago and he was way over Abby, but still.

  Still.

  “Damn, Ab, you can’t quite let go of the Nolan branch, can you?” he muttered, unable to disguise his bitterness.

  “Wait. Patrick, is that you?” With one hand, she yanked down his hood. The other covered her mouth. “I thought you were East.”

  “No kidding.” He gripped her shoulders, intending to set her firmly out of his way. Before he could, he glanced up and saw accusatory hazel eyes fixed on him from the doorway. Fuck. Apparently he’d kept Nikki waiting a little too long. “Abby, East’s not here. So you’ll have to hot tub alone tonight.”

  Abby crossed her arms and refused to budge. “So you and East play little swapping games now?”

  “Keep your voice down.” Catching Nikki’s sharp glance, he gave an internal shrug. He didn’t want everyone to know East wasn’t chaperoning his own shindig, but at least Nikki would know which brother she was about to bed.

  Or couch. Or wall. As the stiletto fit.

  As if they’d coordinated their actions, both Abby and Nikki whirled away, though Nikki did it with the added panache of a tail swish.

  Patrick stared after them. His hesitation gave Nikki a running start, and he didn’t manage to reach her until she’d stopped beside her car. It was a windy, moonlit fall evening, the kind of night tailor-made for strolling hand-in-hand down shadowy streets while whispering sexy demands to your lover. The crackle of leaves, the teasing hint of woodsmoke on the air, jack-o-lanterns glowing from stoops…all set the scene for wicked seduction.

  And he wasn’t about to let his lover get away so easily.

  “Hey,” he said, extending a hand to her arm. She had to know who he was now, right? “What happened to our private party?”

  “It ended when you started putting the moves on Big Blue Eyes in there.” But instead of anger in her voice, he heard amusement. She tipped back her head and gave him a smile. “Seriously, you totally missed the boat. Because you have no clue what I would’ve done to you.” His cock jumped against his boxers as she shrugged and turned away, fitting her key into the lock. “Oh, well. Your loss.”

  “Tell me. Tell me what you would do.” His voice roughened and the fingers on her arm tensed, digging in.

  “First I would’ve started here.” She tapped her mouth, making him think of all sorts of naughty and delicious things. “Then I would’ve moved down to here,” she trailed her fingertips over her breasts lightly, barely making contact, “before landing here,” her palm coasted over her mound, “and then ending up here.” She touched her ass, making his blood roar in his veins and his erection strain for relief.

  “But that’s all…” He cleared his throat. “That’s all you. You said what you’d do to me.”

  “Mmm, yeah. I would’ve let you do anything you wanted to all of those places.” The special empha
sis she put on all tore a groan from his chest. “Too bad,” she added with a jaunty grin, pulling open her door.

  “Wait. Don’t go. Abby isn’t—” He blew out a breath. Apparently his ability to speak coherently had disappeared due to the rampant flow of blood flooding into his lower regions. “Nikki, I’m not—”

  “Shh,” she said, shifting back to place her fingers over his mouth. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Happy Halloween.”

  “No. No, wait. Nikki, this night wasn’t supposed to end like this. I didn’t know if you’d even be here, but I hoped. I don’t care about Abby. There’s only you.”

  Her mouth turned up in a hesitant smile, and she turned again, whipping him with her long dark hair as she reached inside her car for something. She fumbled around for a minute then emerged with a marker. Wordlessly, she shoved up his robe, baring his forearm. She pulled off the cap with her teeth—even that sent a pleasant buzz of lust humming through his system—and scrawled something on his arm.

  When she pulled back, he twisted his wrist to try to read her writing in the moonlight. It looked like an address.

  “161 Wavering Walk,” she said. “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you until midnight. Then I’m turning the deadbolt.”

  She slipped into her car without giving him time to reply.

  Six

  Nikki stepped inside her house and glanced ruefully at the forgotten bowl of candy sitting on the hall table. She’d gotten a great mix to hand out to trick-or-treaters, but that was before she’d decided to go back to East’s Halloween house of horrors. Not that it had been much of a decision. A night alone with zombie movies, gooey snacks and later on, her vibrator—or an evening with Patrick? Even if that evening lasted, oh, twenty minutes?

  Talk about a non-decision.

  She sighed and fumbled a wrapped piece of candy out of the dish and toyed with the foil. So now what? She’d given him a couple hours to make up his mind. Because if he walked in here, this wouldn’t be some drive-by fuck. He’d be staying the night.

 

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