by Ann Gimpel
“Kachingo! Jackpot!” Joe exclaimed and patted a box. Apparently he wasn’t as worried as her about being overheard.
“This is great,” Mike said. “Shit, wonder how the underground gets all this black market food.”
Tara dropped her clothes on one of the boxes. In moments, she shimmered into a sleek coyote and took off at a run through the trees. The men followed suit. Joe nudged her with his muzzle. “Join us?”
She didn’t think it wise, but the allure of her animal form was impossible to resist. Her cat screeched inside her head. “Take your damned clothes off.” A reluctant smile curved Kate’s lips. She loved her speed and her grace as a mountain lion. And the acuity of all her senses. Kate shucked her way out of her garments. She piled them atop the other clothes and gave her body the command to shift.
Yesssss… Warm fur sprouted, her torso lengthened. Powerful hindquarters bunched and she launched herself after the others. Scents bombarded her. She could tap into her feline sense of smell as a human, but it was so much more acute after she first shifted, it was almost painful. Before the latest spate of governmental edicts a couple of years back, she’d taken to her animal form almost daily. Now she was lucky if she spent an hour a month as a mountain lion. Sometimes, she shifted in her house just to remember what it felt like. It wasn’t enough to satisfy the cat, though, and it had gotten progressively harder to force it into submission. It growled and snapped and told her in no uncertain terms shifters weren’t meant to spend all their time in human form.
“You’re free, sweetie. Go for it,” she told the cat.
“I intend to.”
Their muzzle twitched. Prey. A field mouse skittered a few feet ahead. Kate pounced. The wonderful taste of hot blood warmed her gullet. She crunched through small bones. Suddenly wary, Kate fanned magic around her. All she felt was Tara, Joe and Mike. After a moment’s hesitation, she ran toward them. They were gamboling in a small clearing; they looked so happy, goddamn it, it broke her heart.
Just for tonight, I’ll pretend right along with them… A throaty purr rippled from her throat.
Dawn was lightening the eastern skyline when she loped back to her clothes, shifted, and dressed. For once, her cat didn’t complain. Kate trod the now familiar path toward home, taking care to undo her earlier markings with elbow grease and magic. No point in leading a poacher right to her friends. The underground weren’t the only ones trafficking in black market food.
Kate unlocked her door. She figured it was around six. Fortunately, she didn’t have clients until later in the afternoon. Though she didn’t need as much sleep as humans, she was tired. Two or three hours of rest would help. She set the alarm system, climbed the stairs to her bedroom, and sat on the edge of her antique four-poster bed to jimmy off her sneakers. She loved antiques, probably because she remembered when they’d been the newest fashion.
“We need a mate.” The cat’s comment came out of the blue.
Kate felt sad. It was a rare shifter lucky enough to find their mated partner. The one whose soul would link with theirs through the whole of their long lives. “Great idea. Where do you propose we find one?”
“I’ll look. My instincts are better than yours.”
“You do that, sweetie. Good hunting.”
She thought about brushing her hair and her teeth, but opted for later and tugged a coverlet over herself. Her eyes shut. Just before sleep claimed her, the man’s face from earlier rose from her memory. He was smiling right at her, dark eyes lit with sensual promise.
Chapter 4
Three days had passed since Devon’s brief fling with Huong. He’d shuttled between work and home, but no matter where he was, Kate filled his mind. He couldn’t get her out of his thoughts. Not that he tried very hard.
He’d hedged when his captain asked about his surveillance assignment. Keeping a poker face, Devon told the captain he thought their intel about Kate was incorrect because he hadn’t been able to sense anything unusual about her. The captain cocked his head to one side and asked how long since Devon’s last injection. His only comment before reassigning Devon to a different project was sometimes it took a while for the infusions to reach maximum potential.
During the intervening time, Devon had done mostly desk work and nonshifter-related surveillance. There’d been a rash of drug deaths and he’d run down the ringleaders who’d brought tainted heroin into the city.
The previous night he’d wakened from the most erotic dream he’d ever experienced, drenched in sweat and semen. He’d taken Kate from behind, holding the creamy globes of her ass tight against his cock as he pounded into her. Heart hammering, cock still throbbing, he’d turned on the bedside lamp, unable to believe he’d had a wet dream. That hadn’t happened since he was fifteen. He closed his eyes. Her body, at least as he imagined it, was damn near perfect. And her hair was amazing. Long and thick, she’d wrapped it around his cock to tease him before he’d flipped her around and entered her.
The dream decided things. Mystified by his obsession with Kate, he had to do something to force a meeting. He’d already scheduled a doctor appointment to try to get a referral to see her as a surrogate, but it was still several days away. He couldn’t chill that long. She was driving him crazy.
Maybe, if they were face-to-face, it would help him figure things out. Raw need frazzled his nerves. He couldn’t wait any longer to sit next to her, talk with her, and inhale her intoxicating scent. It had been faint, but unmistakable, the day he’d trailed after her. Though he didn’t understand how it was possible, her elusive aroma dogged him ever since.
He hadn’t gotten much sleep after waking from the dream. Mostly he’d tossed and turned and jacked off—again and again. Every time he thought he’d finally slaked his lust, Kate would bloom in his mind and his cock hardened. By morning, he was tender and sore.
Unless the department called him in on a special assignment, no one cared whether he wore a uniform. Nerves thrumming with excitement, Devon tossed on jeans, a jersey, and his trademark leather vest. He parked several blocks from Kate’s office and left his electronics in his cruiser.
He gazed at the front door of her office from behind a multilayered dumpster across the street. Despite being relieved of the assignment to shadow Kate, Devon tracked her movements since he’d followed her in the street that day. He worked it in between his police duties, but that was easy enough to do. After three days, he had a good idea of her schedule. Soon, she’d head out for lunch in a small café a couple of blocks away. It was always crowded this time of day.
Maybe I can talk with her. Really talk with her… Devon’s throat tightened. His heart pounded faster than it needed to. A corner of his mouth turned down in a wry expression. He was acting like a love-struck kid; he had no idea why. An erection pressed against the front of his jeans. He zipped his leather vest so it would do a better job hiding his arousal.
Kate’s door opened. She tripped down the steps as if she were in the best of moods; a broad smile parted her full lips. Red-gold hair floated around her. Some days it was in a bun or braided. Today, she wore it loose.
Devon’s hands balled into fists. The bad thing about his surveillance point was he’d gotten to see her clients come and go. “Yeah, except they’re mostly coming,” he muttered. He wanted to be one of those clients. Needed to feel her arms and body wrapped around him. His balls tightened. For an awkward moment, he thought he might come where he stood.
He hastened from behind his hiding place and shadowed her down the street, keeping a respectable distance and several people between them. His dick settled, but not by much. Devon waited for a few minutes near the café before walking through its swinging door. His gaze scanned the crowded room while he got himself a cup of coffee and a sweet roll.
He pressed his tongue against his teeth to keep from grinning like a fool. The only empty seat in the place was at Kate’s small table. What an incredible stroke of luck. He pushed his way through groups of people standing in twos a
nd threes. A dope deal was going down; he ignored it. Nothing shy of one patron murdering another would make him switch to cop mode.
Maybe not event that. Depends how things go with Kate.
“Hi.” He grinned down at her. “Mind if I join you?” He jerked his chin at the remainder of the room. “Sorry if it’s an imposition, but looks like this is the last seat.”
Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth and shut it again. Finally, she nodded curtly. “Sure. I won’t be long.”
“Don’t rush off on my account. I could do with a spot of company.” He squeezed his tall body into the plastic chair and set his coffee on the table. Devon unwrapped the plastic from his cinnamon roll and took a bite. It was stale and his mouth dry, not a good combination. He chewed for a while to get the gelatinous mass moving down his throat.
Kate dropped her gaze. She spooned soup into her mouth.
“So,” he tried to look non-threatening, “do you live in the neighborhood?”
“No.” The word had a bitten-off tone.
“Gee.” He put down his roll and spread his hands before him. “Just trying to make conversation. I’m new here. Just moved to Berkeley a little while ago. It’s really different here than in San Bernardino. People are more, uh, closed off.” He shrugged and took a sip of coffee.
“Yeah, city folk can feel that way.” Her gaze darted to his face, then returned to her food. “I think it’s because we live in such tight quarters; we learn to ignore people to preserve the illusion of privacy.”
“Hmph. You’re pretty insightful. I hadn’t looked at it in quite that way before.”
“Thanks.” She flashed half a smile. It made her amber eyes glow.
Devon felt a rush of raw sexual heat which nearly flattened him. Christ! All she’d done was smile, and she’d barely done that. His cock sprang to attention, so hard it was almost painful. He stifled a groan.
“Are you all right?”
He gulped his coffee. “Yeah. Fine.” He inhaled raggedly. “Have you lived here for a long time?”
“A few years. My office isn’t far from here. Um, what exactly do you do?” Her eyes shaded to gold and narrowed. She gazed at him intently.
Devon was ready for the question. He’d practiced what he’d tell her while waiting behind the dumpster. “I’m a short haul trucker. Work for a food processing plant just north of the city. By the way, I’m Devon.” He held out a hand.
Kate pursed her lips. It was almost as if she knew he’d lied to her. “Kate.” She touched his hand briefly. It sent a shock to the bottom of his belly. Her eyes flared in surprise. Maybe she’d felt it, too. Kate yanked her hand away. “So, um, Devon, have you always been a truck driver?”
“No. I graduated from college with a criminal justice degree. Wanted to be a lawyer once upon a time.”
“What happened?”
He shrugged. “No money for law school.” Devon flicked a finger against one of his high cheekbones. “I’m half Native American. Unfortunately, half wasn’t enough for the tribe to underwrite my schooling. How about you?”
“I’ve been a lot of things. Taught school for a bit. Worked as a secretary.”
The next logical question was, what do you do now? Devon girded himself and asked.
She lifted her chin defiantly. “I’m a surrogate.”
He tried his best to look confused. “A what?”
“Sort of like a hooker, but my clients come from MDs.” The corners of her mouth crinkled into a feral grin. “I eat little boys like you for breakfast.”
“Now wait a darned minute.” Heat rushed to his face. He was surprised he had any blood left outside his cock to do anything.
“Love to, but I can’t or I’ll be late for my next client.” Kate pushed to her feet. “Nice to meet you … Devon.” She walked slowly from the café, hips swinging in a tantalizing rhythm.
Devon stared after her. Far from making things better, his tiny taste of Kate had done nothing but whet his appetite for more. He glanced at his wrist computer. Three more days until his doctor appointment. He bit his lower lip. How am I going to make it seem coincidental when I show up at her office?
He drained his coffee and got to his feet. Guess I’ll have to tell her the truth: I can’t get her out of my mind. If she throws me out on my ass, there’s not much I can do about it.
*
Kate made herself walk slowly. It wouldn’t do for the man to think she was afraid of him, or onto him. It was the same man who’d followed her a few days before. The one who fucked her every night in her dreams. He was desperately attractive. She’d felt the heat of his arousal all the way across the café. If he’d done anything but settle at her table, she would have been shocked. Kate’s nipples pressed against her lacy bra. Her pussy lips slipped and slid against one another. She’d nearly come when he’d met her gaze with his incredible dark eyes. It had taken all her restraint not to straddle his lap. It was surprising just how much sex happened in public places. She regaled her clients with titillating tales of public sex all the time to spur their arousal.
She snorted. Devon, my ass. He’d lied about what he did. Maybe his name was phony, too. Kate was nearly certain he was one of the super cops who rounded up shifters. But he didn’t seem interested in rounding her up. No, if she was any judge of that sort of thing, he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
Kate turned her mind inward to her cat. “Why?”
“Let’s fuck him and find out.”
A laugh bubbled up from her belly. “My practical other half.”
“You asked. It’s not my fault you didn’t like my answer.”
Kate trotted up the steps to her office, activated the electronics, and let herself inside. She glanced at her wrist computer. No clients for a couple of hours. Guess I lied to Devon, too.
She made certain her door was locked and walked to the toy box she kept on the far side of the bed in her studio. Kate culled through it for her vibrating dildo and a butterfly to snap around her clit. She pulled her top over her head and slid out of her skirt. Devon’s sharply boned face and broad shoulders formed in her imagination.
She fantasized him dropping his vest and pulling his shirt over his head. Bronzed skin stretched over shapely muscles. Dark nipples puckered with desire, he swept her into his arms and kissed her. Kate felt the hard planes of his chest push into her breasts.
Unsure how it happened, she ended up on her bed, legs spread. Kate clicked on the dildo and pushed it inside her, angling it to tease her G-spot. She clipped the butterfly over her clit and twanged its wings. The device pulsated. Whoever had designed it was clever. It only needed a nudge from time to time to keep stimulating her sensitive nub.
Kate’s back arched like a bow. Her breath came fast. She tweaked her nipples with her free hand and mimicked fucking with the vibrating dildo. All the while, Devon was alive in her mind. He was the one fucking her. The one pulling her nipples. He had the most amazing cock. Long and thick, he filled her more thoroughly than anyone else ever had. Her hips thrust upward again and again. She moved the dildo faster.
“Now, goddamn it, now,” she shrieked. Her climax roared through her, shaking her to her core.
Kate’s head lolled against the pillows. She gasped for air. Her clit still throbbed. She worked the butterfly, decided she needed more direct contact and replaced it with the tip of the vibrating dildo. The dark-haired stranger’s arms wrapped around her. His lips closed on hers. He murmured he loved her, couldn’t stop thinking about her. When he lowered his lips to suck her nipples, she came again, spasming so hard she was sure she’d pass out.
It was a while before she could breathe. “I have to see him again,” she murmured. “If I don’t, I’ll never figure this out.”
“Good call,” her cat purred. “How are you going to find him?”
Kate rolled to a sitting position and got off the bed. She headed for the bathroom to rinse herself and her toys off. “I don’t think we need to worry about that,” she rep
lied. “He seems pretty resourceful. I think he’ll probably find us.”
Chapter 5
Devon stared at the placard next to the door reading, HENRY ADAMS, M.D. He was on the third floor of a medical arts building. His lips thinned to a hard line. He hated doctors, and avoided them whenever possible, but it was the only way to get in to see a surrogate. As it was, it had taken him nearly a week to secure an appointment. He wondered what people did who were truly ill. Devon yanked the door open. He expected more tension and caught it before it banged against the stops. He trod heavily to the front desk and tapped on frosted glass.
“Your business, please,” a disembodied voice came from a speaker. The glass panel—probably bulletproof—didn’t budge.
“Devon Heartshorn. I have an appointment.”
“Did you bring your paperwork?”
“Yes. Downloaded it from the vid feed like you said.”
“Place it in the tray in front of you. Have a seat. Someone will be with you shortly.”
Devon fidgeted in the hard plastic chair. “Shortly” turned out to be just over an hour.
“Mr. Heartshorn,” blared from the speaker. So much for patient privacy, he thought wryly, glancing around the overflowing waiting room. “Proceed to the green door and place your palm on the pad.”
After weight, height, blood pressure, and a nurse asking questions—most of which he didn’t answer—Devon was stuffed in an exam room the size of a large closet. Tired of sitting after his stint in the waiting room, he paced, two steps one direction, then back again.
Half an hour later a tall, thin, harried-looking man in his fifties pushed the door open, walked to the sink, and washed his hands. “Glad to meet you, Mr. Heartshorn,” he said without looking at Devon. “What can I do for you today? My nurse said you were evasive when she asked you questions.”
“I can wait until you finish with your hands.”
Breath rattled through the doctor’s teeth. He grabbed a paper towel and turned to face Devon. Tired brown eyes gazed out of a deeply lined face. Brown hair, turning gray, was cut short. “Okay. You have my undivided attention.”
