Cat Scratch Fever

by Sophie Mouette

  She rocked her hips back and forth, encouraging the sensation to resonate through her. It wasn’t much, just a quiet reminder of her adventures with Valerie, but, during this brief lull in another hectic day, she wanted to enjoy what she could.

  A little sting marked where Valerie had grabbed at her with the vampire gloves, leaving fine scratches behind. A duller, deeper ache radiated from bruises from the hard spanking and flogging. The sensations spread, slipping her back towards that soft languid state into which a session with Valerie could put her.

  She’d been staring at the fundraising and event income projections that Felicia had sent her for an hour now, and no amount of rosy afterglow could make them look anything but discouraging. At least the new caterer was less pricy than the one who’d backed out.

  Faced with this mess, it was tempting to lose herself in erotic reveries, to try to get deeper into that blissful state of mind Valerie could give her. Val-vana. Bound, helpless, unable to make decisions, nervous – and utterly safe. Utterly cared for and loved, for those moments. Not that she and Valerie were in love in the usual sense, but to be the focus of so much care, so much fierce attention, felt a lot like love when it was happening.

  And then there was the beautiful pain.

  No, not exactly pain. Pain was having your life’s work on the brink of collapse around your ears.

  What she felt when Valerie was working her over was alive and aroused – just like she felt now. Her body was heavy and heated, as if she were moving through warm water. She could almost feel the sharp impact of Valerie’s hands on her ass again, and the memory sent thrills through her body.

  Katherine sank down in her chair. Without consciously willing it, her hand strayed between her legs, stroking at the crotch of her khaki pants. She could feel the heat surging. It wouldn’t do to unzip or to slip her hand inside her waistband, but if she imagined vividly enough, rubbed persistently enough, maybe she could…

  The jangling telephone made her jump, stifling a shriek. She let it ring four times before picking up – two more than she’d normally let it go – to make sure her breathing was more or less back to normal.

  ‘SCCS. Katherine O’Dare speaking. May I help you?’ she blurted out automatically.

  A muffled laugh prompted her to take a belated look at the caller ID: Felicia. ‘Guess I caught you in the middle of something?’ Felicia asked.

  You might say that. ‘Just reviewing the fundraising report you gave me.’

  Another chuckle from Felicia, but a different flavour, one that two years of working together let Katherine identify as a sympathetic noise. ‘I wish I were interrupting you with great news…’

  ‘But you’re not.’ The fire that had been building inside her suddenly felt more like boiling lead.

  ‘Relax. I’ve just got Valerie Turner on the other line and she insists she needs to talk to you right now. And she’s not going to be happy. She offered to donate some fur coats for us to auction off and I flat out said no. Thank goodness they were vintage furs, so I managed not to actually scold her, but still…I wasn’t as tactful as I should have been.’

  Katherine smiled to herself, feeling the warmth rekindling in her blood. ‘Put her through. You’ve got enough to deal with right now without managing an angry board member. If she’s upset, I’ll let her get it out of her system on me instead.’

  At least if I’m lucky…

  * * *

  The day had dawned bakingly, unseasonably hot, and now, at almost noon, it was worse. As Felicia dragged herself towards the clinic building in another attempt to deliver the press release, she found herself wishing for a big beach hat, or maybe a portable bubble of cool air that travelled with her. (Perhaps Valerie, with her fondness for wacky ideas, would finance the research to develop such a thing.) She’d headed out in hope of getting in a little flirting time with José and/or Mel. Maybe the vet’s big brown eyes (and the parts of him less visible in his scrubs) and Mel’s anime-character cuteness would exorcise the images of a towel-draped Gabe. That image kept popping up at the most inopportune times and causing the kind of hot, wet, sticky thoughts you didn’t need when the temperature was hovering near a hundred degrees and your air conditioning wasn’t working well.

  Whether José and Mel would help with the hot and sticky problem was another question, but an increasingly irrelevant one with every step. The sun was baking all the juices out of her.

  It seemed to take forever to make the relatively short walk between buildings. The only reason she wasn’t dripping with sweat when she arrived was that, in the dry heat, perspiration evaporated too quickly for that.

  She staggered into the back entrance of the clinic, where José’s office was, gasping with relief at the blast of cooler air that greeted her. Due to SCCS’s philosophy of putting the animals’ needs first, this building’s air conditioning worked.

  ‘Guys, I –’

  Mel burst out of the actual medical room, her face flushed, as if she’d been running in the heat. The door shut behind her before Felicia could get a look inside.

  ‘What?’ Felicia said, shaking her head in mock-disgust. ‘Did I catch you two fooling around again?’

  ‘Noelle’s in labour! We’ve got to tell Katherine!’ Mel was bouncing up and down in her excitement, and obviously she planned to run and deliver the good news in person.

  ‘Whoa!’ Felicia put her hands on Mel’s shoulders. ‘Katherine’s in town, having lunch with the board chair and Richard Enoch. And Gabe. Something about finances.’

  She tried to sound nonchalant, tried to feel nonchalant. As she said Gabe’s name, though, her body filled up with knife-edged butterflies. Parts of her were focusing entirely on Gabe’s utter sexiness. The thinking parts were pondering once again what Gabe might pick up from Donovan Martinez and Richard, and what he might then go and report to someone in New York City who was interested enough to send him text messages about SCCS at midnight Eastern Standard Time.

  And anyway why did that Zoological Association interloper get to eat at a good restaurant when she’d be eating a microwaved burrito at her desk?

  Fortunately, Mel’s nervous energy distracted her before she could get too far down the slippery slope of resentment. ‘Should I call?’ Mel asked, an edge of anxiety in her voice. This birth was a critical one, not just for SCCS but for the species, and, even with someone as skilled as José in attendance, there was no guarantee everything would go perfectly.

  Felicia thought for about two seconds. On the one hand, it wasn’t good form to interrupt a meeting with the board chair. On the other hand, Katherine was Katherine. She’d want to rush back to be on hand for good or ill, not that she could do anything to assist José. And, knowing Katherine, she’d probably get Donovan and Richard to give ‘birthday gifts for the cubs’ before she left.

  Gifts. That settled it. They needed all the gifts that they could get. ‘You know her cell number?’

  Mel nodded.

  Yup, she thought as Mel made the call, once the cubs had arrived safely, she’d start calling some of their lapsed donors, and the corporations who’d said no to Richard when he’d asked them to support the benefit. Some companies just didn’t like to sponsor events, but who could say no to the opportunity to ‘adopt’ a baby Amur leopard? Or maybe name one, for say $10,000?

  She was so busy plotting her strategy that she didn’t hear Mel’s conversation. The rattle of Mel attempting to open the door back to the medical room distracted her.

  Mel started pacing like a caged tiger. ‘He locked me out,’ she muttered. ‘The bastard locked me out! That was why he told me to let Katherine know right away. Well,’ she conceded, ‘that and she’d want to know. I should be in there!’

  Forget the frozen burrito. Someone needed to be distracted. ‘Come on, sweetie,’ she said, taking Mel’s arm. ‘We’re going out to lunch. José’ll page you if anything happens.’

  ‘I shouldn’t…Oh, you’re right. He’s got a vet tech to help him, and there�
��s nothing I can do except jitter. But can we forget lunch and go straight to dessert? At times like this, a woman needs ice cream.’

  Sure, Felicia thought as they headed towards the parking lot, there was work she should be doing while she ate – but sometimes friends took priority.

  * * *

  Several places in town served ice cream, but The Acropolis Diner, with its gleaming chrome fixtures, cosy booths and waitresses who could tell when you needed a refill on your iced coffee and when you needed to be left alone, was where they ended up. After a lunch consisting mostly of hot fudge sundae, Mel seemed a little calmer, until her phone rang while they were finishing the last gooey bites. Then she literally jumped out of her chair. She pulled out her cell with trembling hands, glanced at the number – and sank back into her seat with a sigh of relief. ‘Hi, Grandma.’ She switched immediately into Vietnamese, but Felicia could recognise the tone: apologetic, but annoyed. After an obviously frustrating conversation, she hung up, shaking her head.

  ‘My grandpa’s birthday party is tomorrow night in San Francisco. Grandma expects me to be there. It’s never sunk in for her that I’m six hours away, no matter how many times I tell her. She got off the plane from Saigon and hasn’t left San Francisco since. And she’s right that I really should be there, but I can’t. No one else here has my experience in dealing with newborns and José needs someone to relieve him.’

  She sat, chewing her lower lip and staring at the melting remains of her sundae, just as twitchy as she had been before they’d run away from work.

  Felicia knew that any time Mel had to deal with her beloved, but not very Westernised grandparents, she needed to blow off steam. A long hike or a trip to the beach usually served, but there was no time for that now. And more ice cream, usually a cure-all, would be a bad idea, seeing their sundaes had been roughly the size of ocean liners.

  Well, there was one form of stress relief that Felicia could provide on short notice. And the way Mel was biting her lower lip was adorable, even if it was from guilt and anxiety.

  Felicia left cash on the table to cover the bill and herded Mel back to the women’s room. As she’d hoped, it was a single-seater. Glancing around quickly to make sure no one was paying attention, she led Mel inside and locked the door behind them.

  There was about a second’s hesitation. Washroom quickies with other girls weren’t part of her normal repertoire, and she wasn’t sure how to proceed. Then she pulled Mel in for a kiss and realised the details were going to take care of themselves.

  Having to bend to kiss her made Felicia feel strong, powerful. Never mind that Mel could probably bench-press her; logic had very little to do with this sort of thing.

  Soft lips and a probing tongue. A sharp, citrusy scent from Mel’s hair and the animal smell of the cats that always clung a little when she’d been working with them – dusty, sunwarmed fur and a hint of something musky and wild. And those delightful breasts that Felicia remembered so fondly, pressing against her. It combined to dizzying effect, reviving the Gabe-related stirrings that had been troubling her ever since the night before. But this wasn’t about her – it was about Mel.

  She could have happily kissed Mel until sunset, but in a public bathroom she couldn’t afford to be so leisurely. She worked up Mel’s uniform polo shirt (‘veldt tan’ with the SCCS logo over the right breast), unclasped the front hook of her purple lace bra and lightly caressed the dark prominent nipples. Mel shuddered.

  ‘More?’ Felicia mouthed.

  Mel nodded.

  She cupped the lovely breasts, one in each hand – they were just the perfect size to make a nice handful – and circled the nipples with her thumb until Mel was squirming and biting her lip from something other than anxiety.

  So pretty. Could Mel be one of the lucky women who could come from nipple-play alone? She couldn’t herself, or at least she never had, but Mel certainly seemed sensitive enough. But this wasn’t the best place to conduct that experiment. Some games deserved a comfortable bed and all the time in the world.

  If her own level of arousal was any gauge, the fact they didn’t have all the time in the world right now wouldn’t be a problem.

  She stroked her hands down Mel’s torso to the waistband of her khaki shorts. Not wanting to neglect the delicious nipples, Felicia captured one in her mouth as she worked on the zipper and struggled the jeans down just enough to slip one hand into Mel’s panties. Slick, swollen, eager – no surprise there. Felicia felt that way herself. OK, she’d been roiled up on and off since the night before, and this encounter just kicked it up a notch.

  Someone knocked on the door. No time for subtleties. She found the spot and, began to circle it. Mel pressed one bare thigh between Felicia’s legs, pushing up her skirt. Pressing against her drenched panties with that heated skin.

  Oh God. She’d meant it to be all about Mel, but there was only so much a woman could take. It was going to be about both of them – and quickly, if the way she’d just clenched and released was any clue.

  On edge as she’d been, it built quickly as she rubbed herself against Mel’s thigh. Mel was whimpering, biting at her own hand as Felicia’s fingers worked. The happily stricken look on her face, the flush extending down over her breasts, added to Felicia’s own excitement. Mel’s legs began to shake. This was a happy thing for Felicia.

  Then Mel began to buck under her hands. She didn’t make a sound, but her face contorted and she mouthed something that looked like it wanted to be ‘Oh God yes’ or maybe just a wordless scream.

  Felicia couldn’t say if it was the added stimulation from Mel’s thrashing or the beautiful visual that ultimately kicked her over, but the waves began at the soles of her feet and her scalp, rolled along her body and met in the middle with overwhelming force.

  She kissed Mel violently to stifle the noises she wanted to make. And, for just a second, with Mel’s juices all over her hand and Mel’s firm little body pressed against her, Felicia flashed to Gabe.

  They cleaned up quickly and left the bathroom trying to simulate the innocent faces of a couple of women who had been sharing makeup or helping each other with some clothing crisis.

  It was a wasted effort. The young woman waiting outside – who screamed baby butch from the flat-top haircut to the Doc Martens – took one look at their expressions and flashed them a big grin and a discreet thumbs-up.

  7

  The call had come at 7.30 the previous night, while Felicia was at home, laptop on her lap in front of the TV on mute, putting the final touches to a grant proposal.

  ‘Four healthy cubs, Felicia!’ José sounded both tired enough and triumphant enough to have given birth to them himself. ‘Three females, one male. The male’s on the small side, but he should be fine.’

  After that news, Felicia managed to get a good night’s sleep for once, without resorting to Mr Twitchy or fantasies of Gabe.

  As a result, Felicia faced the next morning armed with a merely large, as opposed to gigantic, iced coffee and more optimism than she’d felt in a while. She swept her desk clutter into neat piles: logistical details such as tent rental, grant files and, front and centre, the list of donors she needed to call. She even remembered to pour some water on the desiccated aloe and swore it perked up a bit.

  One cub had already been named – she’d spoken to Valerie Turner after José’s call, knowing she would want to know immediately of the birth. Valerie had offered a naming gift even before Felicia had to ask.

  She faced a long list of phone calls to possible donors, but it didn’t look as daunting as it would have on another day.

  The first call was to the owner of a local luxury-car dealership. Mr Alfredi had always been supportive in the past, but had said no to Richard about sponsoring the benefit, according to her notes. Maybe the high gas prices were cutting in to Hummer sales.

  When he got on the phone, she expected to have to do a hard sell. Instead, he all but greeted her with cries of joy. ‘Felicia! I was meaning to call
you. I got my invitation to the Sanctuary benefit last week. Is it too late to get in as a sponsor this year? We got your letter a few months ago, but no one ever called to follow up with us and it just fell between the cracks.’

  Sure no one called to follow up! She had it right here in her notes. No doubt Richard caught you on a bad day and now your wife wants to know why your name’s not on there.

  She didn’t say that, in part because she felt bad that she hadn’t called herself as she’d done in other years. But, when the Barbery Foundation grant hadn’t come through, she’d been scrambling to get other grant proposals done to fill in the huge gap that left and she’d had to put more in the hands of her committee chair than usual.

  Instead, she said, ‘I’m so sorry! And of course it’s not too late. It’s perfect timing, in fact – you can be the first company to take part in something very exciting honouring our latest arrivals. Noelle, one of our Amur leopards, had four cubs yesterday.’

  She could practically hear his ears perk up. ‘Baby leopards? My kids would never forgive me if I didn’t do something.’

  By the end of the conversation, she had a pledge for $2,500 from the dealership, the firm’s usual donation – and an additional $500, straight on to Mr Alfredi’s personal credit card, for the cub-care fund.

  Maybe he really had been missed in the shuffle and Richard had written the wrong thing down. Mistakes happened.

  Smiling, Felicia went on to the next company on her list. And again got the ‘No one called me this year’ story. Odd. The company, an LA law firm, wasn’t being especially receptive, so she figured the marketing guy might just be telling a little white lie.

  Felicia was persistent, however, and the words ‘naming opportunity’ piqued his interest. Sanchez, Ackerman, and Leventhal LLC abbreviated nicely; he thought Sal the Amur leopard had a ring to it that the partners might like.

  The call ended as a definite maybe. Felicia made a note to call back on Monday and moved on.