Catnipped

by Olivia Myers

  “There was no chance,” he grumbled, but the corner of that sinful mouth twitched. “We got them all, including the ringleader behind all the inner station raids.”

  Jessa sighed and shifted her shoulders against the pillows behind her. The quality of care in this infirmary was top notch.

  “My plan worked, then.”

  Mack nodded, his broad thumb rubbing over her knuckles. “Your plan worked. We lost some officers, unfortunately.” The scowl returned. “And you lost a lobe of your left lung.”

  She flinched and rubbed her palm against her side.

  “Is that what it was? Ouch.”

  “You will promise me you are never going to do anything like that again.”

  Jessa met Mack’s intense silver gaze and smiled. “I will not.”

  Mack tilted his head, lips pursed. “You mean you will not promise me, not that you will not do any such thing again.”

  With another semi-painful laugh, Jessa lifted his hand and pressed it to her mouth. She spoke against his skin.

  “You know me so well.”

  Her cy leaned over her, his mouth warm and sweet on hers as he kissed her. The pain melted away, filling her with tingling pleasure as his tongue slid against hers. She fisted her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and attempted to tug him up onto the bed with her, but the stubborn man remained as he was.

  Growling into his mouth, Jessa nibbled his lower lip instead, enjoying the pleasant heat of arousal washing through her.

  The sharp bark of laughter that interrupted a moment later was like a bucket of water over her head. She jerked away from Mack, who sank back into his chair, and scowled at the newcomer.

  “Godfrey, what are you doing here?”

  It was Jessa’s turn to scowl as the wiry mech tech waggled his eyebrows. He rubbed his hands together.

  “You mean Mack hasn’t told you yet?”

  Jessa’s gaze flicked between the two men.

  “Told me what?”

  “She’s only just woken up,” Mack said, taking her hand again.

  Godfrey waved this explanation away. “She’s up enough for you to tickle her tonsils.”

  She was surprised to feel the heat of blush in her cheeks and turned her face away from the annoying tinkerer. Which is when she became aware that there was a window across from her, through which was streaming bright, yellow sunlight.

  Sunlight.

  “Are… are we back on Earth?”

  Mack squeezed her hand. Godfrey lifted one long finger.

  “Point the first, you are back on Earth.” He lifted a second finger. “Point the second, you were fired for violating Directive #97 and nearly getting killed.”

  “What? Fired?!”

  That seemed a bit extreme to her, but Godfrey just shook his head and lifted a third finger.

  “Point the —”

  “Knock it off, God.” Mack’s voice was a deep, warning rumble. God huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Fine, fine. Anyway. The long and short of it is, I negotiated a bit of a deal with good ol’ Cantra Corp for a new state-of-the-art lab here on Earth, to be headed by yours truly, and requested as my personal security two slightly defective units.”

  He waggled his brows again.

  “I am not defective. Nor am I a cy.”

  The tech waved his hand as if this was of no consequence, and laughed. “Your boyfriend is. And he’s quite an interesting one, at that. But then, you know that, don’t you?”

  Jessa refused to blush again. She lifted her chin and squeezed Mack’s hand.

  “He’s much more than just an interesting unit to me,” she said, her voice acerbic.

  Godfrey snorted and rolled his eyes. “Of course, of course. I’ll leave you two lovebirds to celebrate. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  Then he was, thankfully, gone as abruptly as he’d arrived.

  Jessa turned her attention to the cy — the man — at her side. She could feel the smile stretching her lips.

  “So…”

  Mack’s tongue swept along his full lower lip, drawing her gaze. She watched his mouth move as he spoke.

  “There is something I need to tell you.”

  Jessa forced her gaze back to his, drinking in the sight of those pale gray irises. His dark brows drew down in a vee above the straight line of his nose. She reached up and stroked her pointer finger between them.

  “What’s that, baby?”

  “I am in love with you.”

  She ran her fingers up into his hair, feeling the heavy silk of it drift against her palm, tickling. The fire under her ribs was metaphorical now, and didn’t hurt at all.

  “I know.”

  Mack’s eyes widened. “You… Jessa…”

  Jessa tugged at his hair. “Now, come over here and let me give you another one of those demonstrations.”

  “You are injured.”

  She pulled harder until he shifted forward, sliding a knee onto the bed beside her. Jessa wrapped her other arm around his neck and brought his mouth down to hers.

  “Not that injured,” she murmured against his warm satin lips.

  His hands caressed her hair, brushing it back from her forehead.

  “I do not wish to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.” She traced his lips with her tongue, tasting coffee and sugar and Mack. He groaned, stroking her shoulders and down her back.

  “Jessa,” he warned. She kissed him, deep and slow and hot and passionate. When she pulled back, they were both panting.

  “I love you, too. Now, come here.”

  He did. And Jessa was once again thankful that her cy didn’t mind taking orders from a woman.

  THE END

  Psychic Hearts

  I’m twenty and I wish I could live in a nursing home. The older the people around me, the better. Most of the other students in my program think I’m crazy. Pediatrics is the number one choice for Physical Therapists at the University, but my excuse is that they need good people in Geriatrics. What I don’t tell them is that I enjoy the quiet that the minds of the elderly provide.

  The younger the person, the louder they are. I nearly lost it when I did my internship at the children’s wing of the hospital. Constant chatter in my head made me want to tear my hair out. As long as I don’t end up on maternity though, I’ll manage. That would do me in. I mean, one fetus is fun to talk to sometimes, but twenty? All at once? I shudder at the thought.

  Sunnydale is perfect. I could sit here and stare at the flowered wallpaper all afternoon, getting only the occasional memory flitting through. Usually it’s a nice memory too, like Mrs. Peterson’s first dance at her wedding, or Mr. Garfield’s son playing baseball on a summer day.

  Maybe I should date Mr. Garfield. The thought makes me sigh. My healthy libido hasn’t let me off the hook as far as the dating scene goes. I’ve been on no less than twelve dates this year, all ending in disaster. When you’re talking about your career goals and the guy’s thinking stuff like, “She’s hot. I wonder how far she’ll go on the first date,” – and picturing you naked but with comic book-sized breasts, well, it’s destined to fail.

  I check my phone. It’s almost seven. Time for bed for Mr. G., and time for me to clock out and change for tonight’s scheduled disaster. My roommate, Sara, set me up on a blind date. I only agreed because this time she said she and her boyfriend, Rick, would come too, and it’s a party not a restaurant. No chance of me sensing what the guy wants before he does and ordering for him—things like that tend to weird people out. Plus alcohol, which is the only other thing I know of that drowns out the voices.

  Besides, I’m in serious need of a good lay.

  Sara hands me a duffle the second I get in the passenger seat of her beat-up Chevy. Inside I find her lucky dress, deodorant, a brush, and my makeup bag.

  “Really?” I ask, holding up the tiny black outfit. She’s smaller than me, so I’m pretty sure I’ll look like a slut, but I guess for tonight, that works.
>
  She nods. “I really think you’re going to like Tristan, Cass. I know you’re super picky, but he’s sweet, smart, and sexy.”

  “So why’s he single?” I challenge, working the tight black dress down over my body. As I suspected, it hits just above mid thigh and hugs me super tight around the chest.

  “He just got out of a two year relationship. He wouldn’t date for weeks, but Rick convinced him you’re worth it. So don’t blow it.”

  I fluff out my dark brown hair, and add some thick black liner and light pink gloss. Nice. And I’m ready just in time because we’ve pulled up in front of a house a few blocks from campus.

  The party’s already in full swing. The ground thumps with the beat of bass, and tons of people mill around on the lawn and porch with the obligatory red plastic cups. Rick is waiting near the door, waving like a lunatic. Sara smiles, blushing a little. He’s so cute in those jeans. God I love that ass.

  Ugh, Sara! I don’t need to hear those thoughts. I reach for the door before she starts picturing them doing it, which happens way too often, but she catches my arm. “Hang on!”

  She reaches behind her and thrusts some Fuck Me Pumps in my face. They’re bright red with ankle straps and six-inch stiletto heels. I smile, shake my head, and slip them on. I hope this guy’s tall because now I’m a freaking Amazon.

  While Sara tucks my work flats into her bag, I snatch the beer from Rick’s hand. I chug while he and Sara swap spit because they haven’t seen each other since class this morning.

  Finally they separate for long enough that we can get inside the house. I scan the crowd, bouncing around inside to the head-pounding music. A million voices buzz in my head, but the beer’s already helping dampen the noise.

  It’s amazing how much people think about sex.

  “Hey, Cass. I think Tristan’s in the kitchen. He wanted a drink.” Rick screams the words even though he’s less than two feet away. I nod, showing I understand. “He’s really tall and he’s wearing a red shirt.”

  I slip inside, navigating the thrusting bodies. When my cup is empty I ditch it on an end table and grab someone else’s. Alcohol kills all the germs, right? I down it, but it isn’t beer. It’s hard liquor and I almost choke. Still, it feels good going down and warms my insides. That ought to help get me there faster.

  By the time I reach the kitchen, I’ve got a nice buzz going and the chatter in my head is much softer. There’s a couple pressed together in the corner, and another talking animatedly. I get closer and I hear the girl first. I think he likes me and he’s pre-med too. She flips her hair back and smiles.

  I smile too, until I hear the guy. Come on, drink it. Stop talking so much, airhead. I spent good money on that pill and I want to get in your pants already.

  My fist clenches at my side. I was taking tonight off of my little weekend hobby I like to call Superhero Watch, but I’ll be damned if I’m letting this guy get away with date rape.

  “Excuse me,” I say, stopping the girl as she lifts the cup to her lips. “Have you seen Tristan? I’m supposed to meet him here.” I smile, acting a bit more drunk than I actually am and stumble over my heels, “accidentally” knocking her drugged beer to the ground. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry.”

  Goddammit, drunk bitch. That was my last Roofy.

  I glare at the guy as the girl tells me she doesn’t know a Tristan. Go away. I almost got him to ask me out.

  Sometimes it’s tempting not to help the victim. I sigh and drape an arm around her shoulders. I lean in to her ear and whisper, “I saw him slip something in your drink. Be careful.” Then I giggle and stand up straight.

  The girl’s eyes grow big. “Thank you,” she says and runs out of the room.

  “What did you say to her?” the guy demands, stepping toward me, anger in his eyes. I stumble backwards a little, not expecting that.

  “Is this guy bothering you?” Another guy, about six-foot-two with the nicest grey eyes I’ve ever seen, joins us. He must’ve come in the other door.

  I don’t need this shit. Tonight’s a bust, the date rapist thinks. He puts his hands up in a gesture of surrender before retreating back into the party.

  “Thanks,” I say, enjoying the knight in shining armor’s shadow of facial hair and full lips. “You wouldn’t happen to be Tristan, would you?”

  “Don’t tell me you’re Cassandra.” He smiles really big.

  I nod, wanting to go straight for his luscious lips, but I try to control myself. “You’re only missing the armor.”

  I playfully put a hand on his chest. Oh yeah. Hard as a rock.

  She’s pretty.

  “Thank you,” I say, then realize he didn’t say it out loud. “I’d love a drink.” I add the last quickly like it was a joke, and laugh awkwardly. After years of dealing with awkward moments, I’ve learned to bluff my way through most of them.

  “Oh! Sure. Um, here.” He searches the counter, takes a fresh cup and pours some cheap wine in it from an open bottle on the counter.

  I take the drink and grin. “So you’re friends with Rick.”

  “Yeah. I don’t usually come to parties like this, but he kind of begged me. Now I’m glad I said yes.”

  I down the wine. “I don’t usually come to these parties, either,” I lie. “But Sara wanted me to meet you and now I see why. How about we get out of here?”

  Tristan offers me his arm and leads me outside and to his car, keeping with the gallant knight persona. His mind is blissfully quiet now that all the alcohol has kicked in, and I can concentrate on enjoying his gorgeous body and those amazing eyes.

  “Where would you like to go?” he asks, when he’s gotten in the driver’s seat.

  I grasp him by the neck and pull him over the center console for a kiss. He melts right into it and I suck in his lower lip, which is just as soft as I thought it would be. My hands travel down his chest to his waist, and I slip my hand under his shirt, where I explore every ridge as I climb up onto my knees.

  He breaks away, breathing hard. I take the opportunity to pull off the lucky dress. It’s done its job already.

  “Wow,” he says. “Isn’t this kind of fast?”

  “Shut up and take off your pants,” I say, climbing over so I’m straddling his lap, my chest pressed against his. His body is warm and delicious. I use my teeth and tongue to tease at the skin of his neck, while undoing his zipper and button since he’s not moving fast enough for me.

  The alcohol makes everything softer and I feel like I’m spinning on a cloud while his hands finally join in and explore my body. He reaches between us and slides his fingers between my thighs, stroking me.

  “Yes,” I say, straining against him, coaxing him further. His fingers slip inside of me and explore, making me moan with pleasure. He’s ready now too—I feel him swollen against my stomach.

  My hand fumbles on the side of the seat for the controls and I send him backwards, me on top, laughing. His dick is standing at attention, hard and ready, so I adjust my position so I can slide over him. It’s pure decadence as I churn my hips, bouncing over his lap.

  “Wait. Condom,” he pants.

  “It’s more adventurous this way,” I say, through my own heavy breaths.

  He lets his head fall back against the seat, eyes closed in the throes of ecstasy. His hands run up my abdomen to cup and squeeze my bobbing breasts.

  I gasp as I reach orgasm, my body releasing all pent up tension as waves of passion pulse through me.

  “Oh, God.” Tristan releases inside of me, clutching my hips like a lifeline as he reaches his own peak.

  I lie down over him, meeting those delicious lips again with mine as he runs his hands up and down my sides and back, finally cupping my head.

  “Wow,” he says, when I release him. “Just. Wow. I… I’m sorry if I moved too fast for you.”

  I laugh as I pull the dress back over my head. “I think I’m the one that should apologize. I kind of made the move, you know?”

  I flop back in my
own seat, sweating, and completely satisfied.

  “Well I would’ve at least liked to take you somewhere nicer, but I can’t exactly complain,” Tristan says, fixing himself and his own seat. “It’s been a while and well, I hope I wasn’t too fast for you.” His face burns red even in the low light of the nearest street lamp.

  I place my hand over his. “You were perfect.”

  He’s even hotter with his hair all mussed up like that. I’m so glad I can’t read his thoughts right now since they’d probably ruin the whole thing. I like taking what he says at face value.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks, actually starting the car.

  “Actually, do you mind just taking me home? I’m really tired.”

  “Oh. Um, sure.” Tristan listens to my directions and gets me back to the small apartment I share with Sara. We’re silent on the way, which is great for me because for once there’s literally no sound.

  “Here we are,” I say as he puts it in park. “Thanks for everything.” The world spins as I open the car door. “Whoa.”

  “Let me help you to the door at least,” he says, rushing around to my side and offering a hand.

  I take it and bump into him as I stand up. “You’re cute,” I say. “And you have a great cock.”

  His eyebrows shoot up in the air. “Thank you?”

  I touch the tip of his nose with my finger and blow him a kiss before leaving him behind on the sidewalk.

  ***

  I expect to pay the morning after I get drunk, but it’s been weeks and I still feel sick. I must’ve caught some long-acting flu because I can’t stop puking. Probably got it from Tristan. At least it wasn’t an STD.

  “You okay?” Sara asks me for the sixteenth time since class. We had Psych with Mr. Evans, the oldest professor on campus, this morning. I registered for his class on purpose so I wouldn’t hear his thoughts. She got him by accident and was upset, but only until she realized we had the same class. “You don’t look so good.”

  “Thanks.” I’d heard it in her thoughts a bunch of times already, but saying it out loud didn’t help. She’s right though—I’m pale and I feel like crap. And despite my stomach issues, I’ve been starving, stuffing my face, and have started getting a little soft around the middle as a result.