Confessions of a Reformed Tom Cat

by Daisy Prescott

  I took a big step and then another until the darkness of the hall to the back room enveloped me. I wasn’t running. Far from it. I moved slowly and kept my eyes on my assailant stalking toward me.

  I probably should have asked myself why she wanted to slap me. Had I stopped to think, I might have realized unlike most women with the same expression on their face, I hadn’t actually given her a reason to be mad at me. At least none I knew about.

  Her eyes narrowed and she cut the distance between us in half with two long strides. To my left was the door to the bathroom and potential salvation. Further behind me stood the backdoor and freedom. While I debated hiding or fleeing, she made the decision for me by grabbing the front of my shirt.

  “Hey, Idaho. What’s up?” Always act innocent. In this case, I didn’t have to act.

  “I’ve been looking all over for you tonight.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You have?”

  She stared at my mouth and pressed her lips together. “I have. Why is a good man hard to find when you need him?”

  Her words rearranged themselves in my head after she’d spoken them. “Don’t you mean a hard man is good to find when you need him?”

  She snorted out a laugh. “Exactly. You read my mind.” Her hand not clutching my shirt touched the bared skin above my belt.

  “Hey, whoa, Idaho. Where you going with that hand?” I jerked my hips back to escape her wandering fingers.

  “I need a good man. And since I don’t know any good men, I decided I needed a hard man tonight.”

  “Okay.” I grabbed her hands in mine to protect myself from her assault. “Can I ask you one thing?”

  “Sssure.”

  The subtle slur answered my question, but I asked it anyway. “Have you been drinking?”

  “Tommm, don’t be mean. You sleep with everyone on the island. I need you to sleep with me. Now.” The slight rasp to her voice had strengthened into a sultry purr.

  Definitely not sober. “What happened to your own man? Have sex with him.”

  She wiggled her left hand out of my grasp. “No more boyfriend. No more ring.”

  “What happened?”

  She pressed a finger to my lips. “No talking, more sex.”

  “More implies there’s some sex to begin with.” I couldn’t figure out why I bothered to argue. Sex without strings was my thing.

  But could I have stringless sex with Hailey? I had rules. She was my kid sister’s best friend, and engaged.

  While I was lost in some sort of moral debate, she kissed me.

  Shit.

  Worse, my body responded, and I liked it. A lot.

  She was an amazing kisser—even buzzed and with grabby hands, her lips and tongue teased mine with a balance of aggression and skill.

  When she bit my bottom lip, I did the smart thing. I kissed her back.

  Our bodies met and I forced hers against the far side of the hallway. We bumped into the wall and I pinned her with my hips. With her height, I didn’t have to lean down. One of her long legs wrapped around my thigh like I’d imagined when I first saw them at Lori’s shower.

  Shit.

  Lori would kill me. I’d always respected the code of not fucking my sisters’ friends.

  Idaho reached between us and stroked my hardening erection through my jeans.

  To hell with my rules.

  I waved the white flag. Smart idea or not, I surrendered. If she wanted a one-night stand, who was I to let her have it with someone else? That would be like catching a King and throwing it in another man’s boat.

  I chuckled at the unintentional pun of her name and the king of salmons.

  She shifted and kissed my neck. “What’s so funny?”

  Like an idiot, I told her.

  “You’re making out with me, grinding your erection into my hip while thinking of me as a fish?” She pinched my nipple. Hard. She had perfect aim.

  “Ouch.” I jerked away, giving her enough room to escape down the hall toward the bar. “Hey, where are you going?” I grabbed her hand and halted her. How did this go from her attacking me to me chasing her?

  “For years I’ve heard how amazing you are in bed, all about your great moves and talents. I figured you were a sure thing. Instead I get fish talk. If I wanted a limp fish, there’s plenty of men on this island to choose from who don’t know what they’re doing.” Fire lit her green eyes. Her cheeks were flushed with emotion and perhaps a little beard burn. Her bottom lip appeared stung and swollen from our kiss.

  A noise to my left reminded me we had an audience. Olaf tipped his head and met my gaze.

  “Nothing to see here.” I answered his silent question. “I think Hailey needs a ride home.”

  “I don’t need anything from you.” Her tone edged belligerence.

  “Yes, you do. You need me to take you home.” I stared at her. “And you need to remember I haven’t said no.”

  Her mouth opened to speak, shut and opened again, and then clamped closed.

  “We good? I’ll drive you home and we’ll go from there?”

  Her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. She was either mulling over my offer or about to charge me with her horns. I hadn’t seen them yet, but I was certain she had them.

  I bet she would be amazing in bed.

  If I had any say in it, that’s where we were heading now.

  “I have a confession,” I said when we reached my truck.

  She buckled herself in and faced me. “Yes?”

  “I have no idea where you live.”

  Her laughter filled the small space. “I thought you were going to confess something serious. I’m renting a place on Goss Lake.”

  I joined her in laughing. “Maybe we should keep the questions and conversation to yes/no for now so you don’t end up wanting to punch me like you did back there.”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Great.”

  MY HIGH BEAMS lit a narrow path through the cedar filled woods around Goss Lake. Tucked between Holmes Harbor and Langley, Goss and Lone Lakes were further off the tourist path. Idaho gave me directions, our only conversation during the drive. She didn’t fidget or bounce with nerves. If anything, a steely resolve settled around her and she stared straight ahead. The headlights passed over a hulking mass between the cedar trees along her drive.

  “Whoa, was that a deer?” I asked, trying to see it in the red glow from the taillights.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Are you sure? Could be a bear,” I joked.

  “Trust me. Park behind my car.”

  I stopped behind a small Ford SUV. “How’d you get to the Dog if your car is here?” At least she hadn’t been driving under the influence.

  “A friend drove me. And for the record I had two shots over an hour ago. I’m not drunk. Far from it.” She sighed. “What happened to our yes/no pact? There’s a lot more talking going on here than I anticipated.”

  I shrugged. “I’m a curious guy.”

  “Well, Mr. Curious, how about we go inside?”

  “Alrighty.” I reached over her lap and opened the glove compartment. Inside, I fished out a few condoms.

  “Magnums?” She sounded more curious than doubtful.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.” She quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and had the door open in a flash.

  I smirked. My bravado and confidence were firmly based in reality. My reputation was well earned.

  I followed her down the path to a cedar-shingled A-frame house. She’d left the porch light on, but still fumbled with her key in the lock. Hating to see her nervous, I leaned into her and rested my hand over hers. “Here. Let me.” My breath tickled the small hairs by her ear and she shivered, but instead of moving away, she rested her head on my shoulder. I kissed her temple, lingering there for a moment despite the door swinging open in front of us.

  She reached for the light switch on the wall next to the door.

  “Leave it off,” I commanded, gently guiding h
er forward into the dark space. Despite the clouds, enough light filtered in from the wall of windows facing the lake that I could see the outlines of furniture.

  “Just one,” she argued and walked over to a table lamp. “I have a thing about shadows in the corners turning into serial killers.”

  I scanned the room, Amy’s words about being the first to be killed in a horror movie running through my mind. Seeing nothing but a few dust bunnies in a corner, I declared the room killer free.

  “What if you’re the bad guy?” she asked, moving to the coat rack near the door.

  “Me? No, darlin,’ I’m the knight in shining armor.”

  “Prince Charming?”

  “Sure.”

  “Ugh. I’m not some damsel in distress who needs rescuing.” She hung up her jacket and gestured for me to take off mine. “Boots, too.”

  “You’re too bossy to be a damsel.”

  “Damn straight.” She stripped off her sweater and threw it over a chair. Boots followed and joined mine by the door. “Drink?”

  “Sure. What do you have?”

  “Whiskey and tequila.”

  Revenge sex, if that’s where we were heading, and I’d bet on it, required tequila. “What were you drinking earlier?”

  “Tequila.” She grabbed the bottle and poured two shots, lined up two limes slices, and grabbed the salt shaker.

  Yep. Revenge sex.

  Fine by me.

  “What should we toast?” I asked, watching her lick the side of her thumb and pour salt on the wet skin.

  “Magnum condoms works for me.” She licked, drank, grimaced, and shook her head.

  I took her hand and licked the same spot, tasting salt and something essentially her. Meeting her eyes, I poured a thin line of salt and licked the skin again, pausing to suck and gently bite the fleshy part of her thumb. The shot followed and I maintained eye contact while I finished with the lime. Her breathing was shallow and her tongue peeked out from her slightly parted lips.

  “Damn,” she whispered before pressing me into the counter.

  Our mouths crashed together in a tangle of tongues and teeth. She bit my bottom lip and then sucked away the sting. I ran my tongue along her front teeth before owning her mouth, dominating the kiss and switching our positions.

  With my hands on her ass, I lifted her up on the counter. She was the same height here and we aligned perfectly. I ground myself into her and trailed my hands under her thin, long sleeve T-shirt. I could see her black bra beneath the material, her nipples creating shadows where they peaked. My thumbs rolled over them and I pinched both between my fingers, causing her to suck in a breath. Small tits were often more sensitive than their bigger sisters. What was the saying? More than a mouthful was a waste? I couldn’t wait to get my mouth on hers. I jerked the material up and over her head. A flash of black under her left breast caught my eye.

  “You have a tattoo?” I leaned forward so I could see it more clearly.

  “Um, yeah.” She lifted her arm and tilted back. “A chuisle mo chroí.”

  “A hush lemo cree?” My tongue twisted with the unfamiliar sounds of another language. Using my fingertip, I outlined the small black letters flowing over her rib. My eyes met hers and her cheeks flushed. “What does it mean?”

  “Literal translation in Gaelic is ‘pulse of my heart.’”

  I traced the letters with my tongue. “Seems a logical place for it.”

  I blew warm air over the words. Such a romantic quote for a tomboy like Hailey. She chose to hide her tattoo on her skin in a vulnerable place. Bold, yet protective.

  “Were all your friends getting them?” I shifted to see her face again.

  She straightened and barely met my eyes. “No, just me being a rebel. I wanted something to remind myself I’m alive. I’m here. I exist.”

  “You definitely exist.” I kissed my way down her neck, lingering at the top of her shoulder, before continuing my journey south. My mouth found the swell of her tits and I licked a line down to the center between her bra. “You’re a bad ass.”

  Her hands reached behind her and I stilled them. “Let me.” Seeing a beautiful woman naked for the first time was better than Christmas, and no way was I going to let someone else unwrap my present. I flicked open the closure with one hand and pulled the delicate lace away from her skin. A toss over my shoulder made the offending garment disappear.

  “Your turn,” she whispered into my neck.

  “Not yet. You’re still wearing clothes.”

  “Hmmph. I can’t remove my jeans if I’m sitting on my ass.” She pouted, but made a good point.

  I picked her up and held her thighs. Those long, gorgeous legs tightened around my hips. I could screw her standing here, but she still wore her jeans. “Bedroom?”

  “Upstairs.”

  I carried her up to the loft bedroom, not listening to her protests of being too heavy or big. That was bullshit. I tossed her down on her bed, mainly to watch her perky breasts bounce when she landed.

  My fingers found the button on her jeans and I yanked down the zipper before shimmying them over her hips. Enough light carried over the railing to create shadows and highlights around her curves. Before I could flip her over to see her ass, fingers grabbed at my flannel, tugging at buttons, and threatening to rip them off.

  Chuckling, I slowed her hands. “Slow down.” I finished what she started and my T-shirt joined the flannel on the floor. All that remained were my jeans and socks. Regardless of the chill, I had a no socks rule. No pants, no socks.

  She rolled over and snuck beneath the covers, hiding her gorgeous body under a layer of quilts and blankets.

  I dove under and found my way to her, centering my face over her middle. One hand skimmed over her stomach, while the other pulled her legs apart. Her body tensed and I kissed whatever skin I could find, stomach, hip, thigh, inner thigh to soothe her. She laced her hands through my hair and I accepted it as encouragement to continue.

  Her hesitation—despite her hands guiding me lower—told me she wasn’t used to getting this. Any man who expected blow jobs but didn’t love going down on women was a dickhead. We’d already determined Kurt fell into that category.

  One-night-stand or not, I’d make her come hard enough to never accept anything less.

  A nip to the skin at the top of her thigh told her I meant business. This wouldn’t be two licks and done. I would stay down here until I finished what I started. With each lick, suck, and swirl I paid attention to her reactions. Every woman reacted differently. What worked for one, left another cold. The reason women loved me was simple: I paid attention.

  And I was a very fast learner.

  Idaho relaxed and her body told me exactly what she loved. Her hands tightened ever so slightly when she liked what I did and eased up when she didn’t. Or pushed when she wanted my mouth to shift. Her hips began to grind off the bed, seeking more. I gave it to her with one, and then two fingers, curled and pressed inside of her. Ah, that was it.

  I slowed my rhythm, but increased pressure. Muffled below layers of fabric, I could hear her soft moans and whispered swear words. I lost myself in pleasuring her until her hips rose off the bed and I felt her tense all over. I continued doing exactly the same thing until she shuddered and her thighs tightened around my head.

  She called out “I’m coming.”

  I smirked. Oh, darlin, I know. Trust me, I know.

  “Sweet damn. That’s what all the fuss is about,” she swore and shifted her legs.

  I grinned and kissed her stomach, then shrugged off the covers. Sweat dampened my forehead. I wiped my beard on my arm.

  “Satisfied?” I flopped on the pillow next to her.

  Her eyes were closed and she smiled. “I’m not through with you yet.”

  “Oh, we haven’t even begun.” I rolled over and set the condoms on the table, then pulled off my jeans and socks.

  “Three?” Excitement or disbelief echoed in the question. Maybe both.
r />   “I like to plan for every possibility.”

  A few hours later, one condom remained unopened when I put on my jeans. I’d leave it there as a reminder.

  Hell, I’d leave it there for someone else to find.

  On her back, with one tit exposed above the quilt, Idaho softly snored.

  I tucked her fully under the covers and kissed her forehead. “Thanks for the good time.”

  She stirred and opened one eye. Sitting up, the quilt dropped and exposed both breasts, which she quickly covered.

  “No need to be shy, nothing I haven’t seen already.”

  “Are you leaving?” Her voice croaked with sleep. “You can stay.”

  “Nah, but thanks. It’s better I leave now. I’d hate to see regret in your eyes in the morning. You have some ibuprofen?”

  Her brows furrowed. “I’m not drunk. I made this decision completely sober.”

  “I’m sure you did. You’ve been lusting after me since high school.” Making up stuff, I teased her. Or so I thought. She ducked her head and gazed out the window.

  Okay. That was news to me.

  “Listen, you’ll be happier to wake up alone tomorrow. Want me to give you the pep talk about it being the first day of the rest of your life?”

  She threw a pillow at my head. “Get out.”

  I ducked and heard her laughter. “You know I’m right.”

  With a sigh, she nodded. “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  She gestured at the bed and me, and her body.

  “No need to thank me.” I rubbed my lips together and dragged my teeth over the scruff of hair right below my bottom lip. “It was my pleasure.”

  I stood to leave.

  “Tom?”

  “Yeah?’

  “Can we not tell Lori about this?”

  “No problem. It’ll be our little secret.” I leaned over and kissed her forehead. “A one-night-stand between old friends.”

  Her frown returned for a split-second before she gave me a smile. Maybe I imagined the frown.

  I let myself out and sat in the truck for a minute before putting it in reverse. In the red-lit darkness, I caught sight of the shadow in the woods again. I swung the truck around so I could use the headlights to illuminate whatever lurked there.