‘Sorry,’ Felicia said.
‘No need to apologise,’ Gabe said gallantly. He paused, as if trying to frame his next words. ‘I wanted to thank you again for the other night.’
For showing up when he was almost naked? For thinking about jumping his bones? Dammit, all he said was thank you and she was right back in the mindset of the evening, images flashing in her mind.
He stepped towards her, and she stepped back, only to have her thighs connect with the table. He leant forwards, and a flutter started in her stomach.
But Katherine’s was the next voice she heard. ‘Felicia?’
They jumped apart again as Katherine came back into view, framed by the doorway. She’d put her glasses on, although the tiny gold wire frames were sliding down her nose. ‘Could you write up a press release and fax it to the Addison Independent as soon as we have some info from the city? If we nip this in the bud, maybe we can keep it to a notice buried on page seven rather than a full story.’
‘I’ll get right on that,’ Felicia said.
‘Thanks.’ Katherine smiled at Gabe. ‘I’m sorry to say, you’ve visited us at a crazy time, Mr Sullivan.’
Felicia stared at Katherine. She was way too calm. Felicia wanted a shot of whatever relaxation drug her boss was taking, preferably a double dose.
‘It gives me the opportunity to witness grace under pressure,’ Gabe said easily.
Trying to muster her own share of grace under pressure, although she was feeling more flustered than graceful, Felicia took the opportunity to slip back to her office.
* * *
Gabe retreated to one of the covered tables outside. Despite the heat, he found himself using the area as a temporary office where he could spread out some paperwork, review his notes and messages – and also be at the centre of things.
The sewage leak was either stupid bad luck, or it spoke of something more serious. He would wait until he heard the City Sanitation Department’s report before he came to a final decision, of course, but he couldn’t help but ponder the possibilities.
He was used to facing opposition and resentment in his job, even from facilities that were entirely on the up and up, with multimillion-dollar budgets and exquisite amenities. His presence never failed to engender a level of suspicion and guilt. He was from a policing agency, and his job was to scrutinise every factor and detail of the operation. That naturally put people on the defensive.
The bottom line was that no person or facility was perfect. Even a place he’d give perfect marks to might have a cashier in the gift shop who was skimming from the till. He didn’t take points away for an individual like that, although he hoped the facility appreciated that his review had brought the problem to their attention.
The SCCS staff was under a lot of stress, there was no question about that. It was his job to figure out if the stress was due to everyday causes or a deeper set of problems. And, if there were problems, it would be his job to write them up and recommend solutions that the Zoo Association would require SCCS to implement. Or it would be his job to ensure that the SCCS’s licence be revoked and the facility shut down.
Yeah, he had the potential to not just be a bad guy, but to be the really bad guy.
So far here, he’d seen dedicated, passionate employees struggling to keep an out-of-the-way, underfunded facility going. So far, he’d seen that the animals were well cared for. The cages might be a little bare, but there was a level at which things like murals and fancy shelters were for the benefit of the visitors rather than the cats themselves. The cats wanted a dark, quiet place – it didn’t matter if it looked like a natural stone cave or a big plywood box. The point was that they were well fed and properly looked after.
The vet, José, had been pleasant enough, but reserved. Again, Gabe could put it down to the usual resistance he encountered. If everything was fine, then José naturally would be defensive. If something was amiss, José was likely to want it covered up.
As far as Gabe could tell, the veterinary records were in order. José had shown marked reluctance to show him a recent injury report, although the injury itself seemed to have been a fairly minor one.
José’s distraction could have stemmed from the recent birth of Amur leopard cubs. He’d excused himself from their meeting several times to check on the mama cat and her babies, and he looked flat-out exhausted.
Still, Gabe had made note of the injury in question; something just didn’t seem right, and he wanted to give it a closer look.
If the Sanctuary were a child, he might have dubbed it ‘accident prone’. First there had been the false fire alarm – but there had been a horde and a half of children swarming around. ‘Don’t touch’ was the most powerful sign to encourage a child to put his or her hands on something.
Now there was a sewage leak. Again, something that could happen to anyone, anywhere. The same set of school kids could have shoved something down a toilet. The sewage system could be old and corroded. Whatever.
But coming on the heels of the fire alarm – and, for that matter, the ocelot injury a few days before that…Was a curious pattern emerging? Was it a random series of unfortunate incidents, or something more?
Unbidden, his mind flashed back to Felicia’s comment over dinner about the land being prime real estate, that someone had suggested selling the property and relocating the Sanctuary. There wasn’t enough to bring him to any obvious conclusions. It was all just something he’d keep an eye out for.
‘Hi!’ a voice said brightly.
He looked up to see the buxom blonde caterer smiling down at him.
‘Mind if I join you?’ she asked.
Gabe tipped his head so he could view her over his sunglasses. ‘Be my guest,’ he said, gathering in his paperwork.
She slid on the bench sideways, straddling it with just enough of a hip thrust to make her intentions clear.
She wore a pink sleeveless halter-type shirt with wide lapels, sort of funky and retro and stylish all at once. She obviously wore a push-up bra beneath it, because a crevasse of shadowed cleavage was apparent between the lapels. He’d noticed earlier that her jeans rode a little low and the shirt a little high, showing off the tattoo at the small of her back, although he hadn’t been close enough to make out what the tattoo depicted.
Felicia was also wearing a sleeveless, button-down top today, but revealing less cleavage. Hers had seams down the front to shape the shirt to her body without being clinging. It was elegant, professionally sexy, especially paired with the long, straight white skirt that had a high slit up the back.
Felicia, however, was off limits. It would compromise their working relationship and there was also the slightest niggle of concern that she might be involved with the problems plaguing the Sanctuary. Not that he could think of any reason to be suspicious except that, at this point, no one was ruled out and, knowing he was attracted to her, he had to go out of his way to be objective.
‘We didn’t really get a chance to chat the other day,’ Debbie said. ‘Talk about mayhem! Anyway, I just wanted to say hi again, and get out of the sun.’ She grabbed a file off the table and fanned her cleavage, which, he noted, glistened attractively with a fine sheen of sweat.
Debbie made it blatantly obvious that she was interested in him. He felt the first stirrings of arousal in his groin: a normal, healthy reaction to an outrageously sexy, confident, willing woman. He’d probably suggest drinks after work, see where the evening led, in the hope that it would lead back to his hotel room, where they’d share a fun sweaty, uninhibited time together.
‘I’m kind of stunned by the heat,’ he admitted. ‘I have to confess I thought California was all palm trees and inviting beaches.’
There was nothing wrong with blatant. With blatant, you knew where you stood. Women were finally admitting that sometimes what they wanted was a night of hot sex with no strings attached, that they didn’t always want or assume that a wedding dress and two-point-five kids would follow.
No
t that there was anything wrong with a wedding dress, et cetera. Gabe figured he’d find Ms Right someday – in fact, he was looking forward to that. But Debbie Landstrom wasn’t Ms Right and, as near as he could guess, didn’t have any interest in being Ms Right. The option of Ms Right-Now, however, was something they could both agree on.
‘The café is air conditioned,’ Debbie said. ‘We could cool down.’ She leant forwards, allowing a greater view down her shirt, and batted her doe eyes at him. Her musky perfume insinuated itself into his nostrils.
He’d planned to stay here until the City Sanitation people showed up. But goodness knew how slow government employees could be. And it was really hot, and iced tea sounded wonderful. He shoved the files and phone into his briefcase and stood, a bit awkwardly in his condition.
It didn’t even occur to him until they were inside the building that it would be empty of both tourists, who’d gone home because of the sewage leak, and the now unneeded employees.
Oh, she was good.
She opened the ice maker and scooped out a sliver, popping it between her red lips and sucking on it suggestively.
The blood drained from Gabe’s head and pooled in his groin. He stuck his hand in the cold bin and found a piece of ice. Coming up behind Debbie, he lifted her hair and traced the ice along her neck. She squealed and backed into him, shimmying her hips so that her fine ass snugged up against his hardened cock.
Debbie’s squeal turned into a breathy, appreciative ‘Hel-lo’.
Creative foreplay be damned. He spun her around. She was already unbuttoning her shirt. Her lacy yellow bra was the kind that scooped low, and all he had to do was tug a little before her nipples popped out.
She hopped up on the counter and threaded her fingers through his hair, urging him closer even as he dove in, kneading and sucking. Definitely enhanced, but she made all manner of cooing happy noises, so it seemed to be a worthy endeavour. He imagined how it would feel to slide his cock, slick with her saliva, down the valley between her breasts, and his cock responded, pressing hard against the fly of his khakis.
He made swift work of his belt buckle and yanked down the zipper. Debbie joined in to help, tugging his trousers down so they pooled at his feet, and pulling down his underwear with only slightly less force.
At his feet now, she closed her hot mouth around his cock, taking him in with ravenous enthusiasm. Her long fingernails grazed his balls, and he groaned, close to the edge. Last night’s session in the shower – or the one the night before – hadn’t taken the edge off as much as he’d hoped.
Straightening, she shimmied out of one leg of her jeans. She wasn’t wearing underwear, and she obviously spent time at the waxing salon – a narrow strip of groomed hair was all that stood between him and her pussy. She perched back on the counter and spread her legs, sliding one hand between her thighs to massage her bare, glistening lips.
‘C’mon, baby, I need you inside me.’
Gabe didn’t need further invitation.
Hot, wet and tight. It was a cliché, but it was true.
He varied the length and speed of his strokes, gauging her reaction to see what gave her the most pleasure. Then he felt a stiletto heel press into his back as she clamped her legs around him, urging him on. Well, that answered that question.
She was already carrying on a litany of raunchy encouragement and, as he sped up, her moans increased. Reaching down between them, his fingers sought out her clit. There wasn’t much space for skilful manipulation, but his hips rhythmically bumped his hand and his fingers slid along her hard button, and it was enough. Her moans turned to shrieks, and she squeezed down around him, and her fingernails dug into his back, and he felt the come surge up inside him.
When he released his load into her, fast and hard, it was Felicia’s face that he imagined.
Curious.
Debbie released her death grip from his back and he disengaged from her, pulled up his trousers and held them together. He refrained from looking over his shoulder to see if she’d punctured his shirt, or, for that matter, his skin.
Debbie casually reached across the counter and pulled a handful of paper napkins from a metal dispenser. She swiped herself clean, dropped the napkins on the counter, and hopped down to readjust her clothes. In less than a minute, her jeans were fastened, her bra was back in place, her shirt was buttoned, and she was fluffing out her hair and dabbing a finger at the corners of her mouth to fix any smudged lipstick.
‘I hope they sanitise the countertop before they serve anyone food,’ she commented, flicking at the napkins with her forefinger.
He started to laugh, assuming she was making a joke, but then he saw her moue of distaste.
Shaking his head, he rummaged in the supply closet and found cleaning spray and rags. He dropped the napkins she’d used in the trash and wiped down the counter.
‘Seriously, I mean, jeez, isn’t that the type of thing you write places up for?’ Debbie asked.
‘No, generally I don’t write them up for my having had sex in their cafeteria,’ Gabe said lightly. As a food-service professional, Debbie had had safe food-preparation rules drilled into her brain. But she still seemed to be overreacting. As if it hadn’t been her idea in the first place!
‘Well, I wouldn’t want to eat there,’ she said. ‘I hope they scrub this place down before I have to use it to prep the fundraiser food.’
‘Then I assume you don’t have sex on your own kitchen counters?’ Gabe asked.
She stared at him for a minute, then smiled and batted her eyelashes. ‘Inviting yourself over already?’
‘I’ll take a rain cheque,’ Gabe said, grabbing his briefcase. The problem with fun, sweaty, uninhibited playtime was that sometimes the other person turned out to be someone you weren’t sure you wanted to spend time with again.
Once again, his obstinate brain flashed to Felicia, suggesting that she’d be as much fun after a steamy session in the sack as she was during it.
And once again, his obstinate cock, which really should have been sated, twitched in appreciation.
9
‘No sooner than that?’ A silence, during which Katherine fumbled with the clicker on her pen. Felicia, Mel, Gabe and Lance (who seemed to have decided the problem was partly his to solve since he’d discovered it), gathered around her desk, held their breaths – in part from politeness, in part because the offices were downwind from the leak and the A/C was being particularly uncooperative. ‘I know it’s Friday afternoon,’ Katherine responded to what she heard. ‘That’s why we need to get this fixed today. Weekends are our busiest time.’
It was clear from Katherine’s face that whatever she was hearing wasn’t good.
She got off the phone shaking her head. ‘It looks like someone – probably some bored junior-high kid – flushed an entire box of tampons and followed it with the box. The older parts of the pipe just couldn’t take the strain. The city only has a skeleton crew on over the weekend, so the repairs may not be finished until late on Sunday – and they’ll have to shut off the plumbing everywhere but the areas that are critical for the animals for the whole time. We’ll have a port-a-john within the hour for the essential staff, but we’ll be closed until Monday, and then it’ll be a mess. They’ll have to do a lot of digging in the main courtyard and one of the bad sections is under the garden outside the front gate, so we’re going to have to get new plants and re-landscape.’
Lance groaned – understandably, since he’d planted that bed, directed by a couple of seventyish volunteers who had the horticultural know-how but not the muscle.
Then he got what he clearly thought was a brilliant idea, because his usual James Dean sneer turned into an actual smile that made him look like a particularly eager (and very well-built) puppy.
He opened his mouth then fell silent, looking from face to face. Mel had said she’d got him to be chatty one on one, but, then again, Mel looked about his age; he still seemed intimidated by the senior staff, especially Ka
therine.
‘Please,’ Katherine said, evidently sensing his discomfort. ‘If you’ve got an idea, speak up. We need all the ideas we can get at this point.’
‘Can we move the plants before they dig there? It’ll be kind of gross, but we’ve got gloves and coveralls and sh-stuff,’ he corrected himself quickly. ‘And my sister’s seeing this guy who works for a landscaper. Maybe he can get us some clean dirt.’ He snorted. ‘Clean dirt. That sounds weird. But maybe they’d, like, give it to us. It’s just dirt, right? Can’t cost them a lot.’
There was a brief silence, during which Felicia kicked herself for assuming the bad boy had no useful connections. There were times a landscaper with a tie to SCCS could come in handy – and this was one of them.
Katherine nodded. ‘Thank you, Lance, but I really hate the thought of anyone doing too much in this heat.’
‘They’re saying the heat wave’s gonna break tonight. It’s just going to be normal hot tomorrow, not killer. So if I come in early tomorrow…If that’s OK, that is,’ he added quickly. ‘Saturday isn’t one of my days, but I don’t have anything going down so I could help.’
‘I’ll help,’ Mel said. ‘I was coming in anyway.’
‘I’ll help too,’ Felicia volunteered instinctively.
Katherine shook her head. ‘Thanks, but, if you’re working tomorrow, we’ve got that National Science Foundation grant to finish. Maybe it’ll actually be quiet enough so that we can get it done. People don’t usually call on Saturday.’
Felicia felt a brief urge to argue. While gardening wasn’t her thing, spending some time doing physical labour with Mel and one of the more decorative volunteers sounded like a good break from her desk. But Katherine was right. The grant had been on her agenda for the afternoon, but there was no way she’d get to it, not with trustees to contact about the leak, a press release to write and a list of phone calls about five miles long for the event.
Cat Scratch Fever Page 10
