by Cait Miller
In the shadows to the side, Megan could see the cat keeping pace with her and tried to call out to it, but it merely looked at her with familiar eyes and vanished. Hearing the rasp of someone else breathing, she looked again to the shadows and saw Jack. His face hard with determination, he reached for her hand and ran with her towards the streetlights. Her legs ached and trembled with the strain and she imagined she could feel the heat from the engine close behind them. Heart pounding, she pushed on. Just as she thought all was lost they tumbled into the golden pool of light and all was silent.
Then the burning began, the light that before had represented safety turned on them and heat engulfed them, dissolving the clothes from their bodies so that its hungry flames could reach their skin—
The nightmare released Jack from its grip with a suddenness that left him disoriented. Still in his feline form, he lay on Megan’s bed. Beside him, she too quieted as if now that he was awake the fire had been deprived of fuel. Another wave of heat washed over him, and he realized that he was on the verge of shifting again and the illusion of fire had been his addition to the dream. He had only intended on staying with Megan until she fell asleep but as he glanced towards the room window he saw the lightening of the dawn sky. Checking one last time that she now slept peacefully, he slid off of the bed, padded silently through the apartment and out of the window.
* * * * *
Having safely retrieved his clothes and other belongings from the hedgerow where he had hurriedly stuffed them last night, Jack returned to his hotel room. He was exhausted from the shift and his cock ached with lust for the woman he had left. He had to have her, she was his.
If he were a normal man, he thought bitterly, he would be waking up warm and satisfied beside Megan right now. He pulled on clean jeans and a soft black shirt. Then again, if he were a normal man he would probably never have met Megan. He didn’t even want to consider that.
The thought brought to mind Megan’s accident last night. Being the cat did have some advantages. Quick as he was as a man, he could never have reached her in time. His hands trembled as he remembered how close it had been, his tail had actually brushed the car as it passed. Megan believed it had been joyriders and she was probably right, but Jack recalled the times yesterday he had felt they were being watched. Still, who would want to hurt her, and why? The answer was, of course, no one. He dismissed it from his mind for the moment, resolving to be more vigilant—just in case.
In the meantime, he had to go back to her apartment. He had some explaining to do after abandoning her last night and he had no idea what he was going to tell her. Whatever else happened, he was determined to make up for the unfulfilled promise of the night. He swore; it all might have been over if the change had not got in the way. It was only going to get worse as his transformations came more frequently. He was rapidly running out of time.
* * * * *
Megan sat at the dark wooden table in her kitchen drinking coffee and refusing to feel disappointed that the cat had been gone when she woke this morning. It was for the best really, this way she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about turning him in. Of course that would not stop anyone else from doing it. She only hoped he would be okay.
The knock caused her to jump. Hissing in annoyance, she licked the cooling drink off of her fingers and placed the cup on the draining board before making her way to the door. It was still early and she could not think of anyone who would be knocking at her door at this time unless, her expression brightened, it was the postman with her latest book order. She opened the door and the look of anticipation slid off her face. Jack.
“Hi.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and his gaze took in her fitted blue T-shirt and tight jeans.
She ignored the resulting spark of heat. “Morning,” she replied, her tone more of a statement than a greeting.
“I need to apologize and explain about last night.”
Megan waited, one hand on the door. This had better be good.
“I had to call my parents.” As she stepped back inside and began to close the door he continued in a rush. “Really, they’re on vacation. This was the last chance to speak to them for the next week because they’ll be staying at their cabin and it doesn’t have any phones.” As he spoke, he edged past her into the flat. “I promised I would call and update them on the business.” They stood facing each other in the narrow hallway, bodies nearly touching.
“That is just about the worst excuse I have ever heard, so it must be true. I felt like an idiot, Jack.” Megan shut the door, resisting the urge to slam it, and headed for the kitchen, knowing he would follow.
“I’m sorry.” He stood so close behind her that she felt his breath stir her hair, causing a shiver to chase down her spine. She stepped away from him, taking a clean mug from a cupboard and pouring him a cup of coffee. She turned abruptly to hand it to him only to discover those fabulous eyes of his had been fixed to her backside.
“I’m up here, Jack.” She refused to be affected by the heat she saw in his gaze when he lifted his head.
“Those are really great jeans.” His voice had deepened and she swore she could feel the vibration of it as their fingertips connected on the handle of the mug. Okay, maybe I’ll be a little affected. His eyes held both heat and that trace of amusement. “I like your T-shirt, too. It really draws attention to your…eyes.” Megan’s face flushed and she could not help but smile at his outrageous comment as she looked down and saw that, without the constriction of a bra, the thin fabric outlined her nipples.
Jack placed the untouched coffee on the worktop and slowly advanced as Megan began to back away from him.
“I’m still angry at you.”
“I know.” She found herself backed against the table as Jack continued to stalk her. Excited butterflies fluttered in her stomach. He was so overwhelmingly masculine, he seemed to fill her little kitchen with his presence. He placed a hand on either side of her body, trapping her in a loose embrace. She could smell him, soap mixed with an indefinable scent that was all his own. Her heart began to beat a little faster and she moistened her lips in anticipation.
His hands moved to her waist and he bent his head and brushed her mouth with his own once, twice. His tongue traced her lips demanding entry and when she complied, he responded with a hunger that belied his initial gentleness. His hips pushed against hers, the hard length of his erection bulging behind his jeans. Her tongue thrust and dueled with his for control of the kiss as her hands came up to grasp his shoulders. Hands slid up beneath her T-shirt to cup her breasts and a bolt of heat shot straight to her core as his thumbs brushed over her nipples.
She gasped and Jack broke away from her lips long enough to pull her top over her head. Her hands went immediately to his shirt, quickly unbuttoning it and sliding it off of his shoulders to drop to the floor. He unfastened and stripped off her jeans and panties while she explored his powerful shoulders and hair-dusted chest, his breath caught when she ran her nails lightly over his nipples. She watched as they beaded, then caressed his firm buttocks as she pushed his underwear and jeans over his hips. He caught the waistband before it could slip to his ankles and groped in his pocket for a foil-covered condom. She took it from him, opened it and began smoothing the thin latex onto his cock with shaking hands. He groaned and moved her hands back to his shoulders and finished sheathing himself with a practiced stroke.
“I want you too much,” he murmured, “and if you touch me like that it’ll be over before we get started.” Catching her waist he lifted her onto the table, drawing her knees apart to make a place for himself. The shock of the cold surface on her buttocks made her suck in her breath. She leaned back on her elbows. Jack dipped his head to her breasts, suckling one while his fingers teased the other, switching to give each equal attention. He lifted his head and met her eyes as he blew gently on her engorged nipples, causing her back to arch in a silent appeal for the damp heat of his mouth again. His hands gripped her hips and Megan’s eyes flick
ered closed while he kissed his way down the center of her body, pausing to swirl his tongue in her navel. She whimpered in frustration when his mouth brushed teasingly over the curls at the apex of her legs and down to nuzzle and nip the inside of her thigh where her birthmark lay. A chocolate-brown blotch about the size of a ten-pence coin orbited by smaller spots, it vaguely resembled a paw print. Her mother had once told her it was inherited from her side of the family. What the heck am I doing thinking about my mother!
Jack’s mouth left her but before she could catch her breath his hand released her hip and she felt one long finger slip into her, testing, before it was joined by another. Impossibly, she felt her cheeks heat further as he discovered how wet she was. Her eyes flew open and she cried out as she felt his tongue part her so that he could close his lips around her clitoris, sucking gently as he thrust his fingers in and out of her. When she felt her muscles begin to contract she brought her hands up, fisted them in his hair and dragged his head back up to her mouth for another desperate kiss, tasting herself.
“I want you inside me when I come,” she whispered.
For an instant Jack’s thick, hard cock slid against her own swollen flesh, his hips bucked against hers and his body quivered with restraint. “Not yet.” He moved back and his fingers thrust into her once again.
She moaned into his mouth as he circled her clit with his thumb, his tongue mimicking the action of his fingers. Her breathing growing frantic, Megan raked her hands through his hair and over his shoulders and back. His mouth drew a damp path around to nibble on her lobe, his breathing harsh in her ear and his voice strained as he whispered “Now!” and pressed his thumb hard on her clit.
Megan groaned as she flew over the edge, her body convulsing as she felt his cock filling her with one slow thrust. Her legs wrapped around his hips, they began to move together, faster and faster until she felt Jack reach his own completion, his shout filling the room, followed by her own in another shattering climax.
The world faded back in slowly. Megan stroked her hands down the muscles of Jack’s back, reveling in his weight and the heat of his breath on her neck. Jack groaned softly and she chuckled, hardly believing she had just taken part in a kitchen-table sex scene. “I don’t think this table was designed for this, you know.”
He lifted his head and met her eyes. “Do I look like I care?” Conveniently her hand was stroking his tight buttock and she slapped it once hard. “You will if it collapses underneath us.” He yelped and she soothed the sting.
“Okay, that’s true,” he smiled at her as she felt his cock harden inside her again. Her body tingled with the knowledge. “Guess we better be quicker this time.”
Chapter Four
“What’s wrong?” Jack’s own mind was spinning, but he was aware of Megan’s turmoil as they lay together wrapped in a cotton throw. Temporarily sated, they had stumbled as far as the living room couch where they had both drifted into sleep.
“Nothing,” she replied. “I’m just worried about the cat.”
It was now early afternoon and when they had woken up Megan had told him about her strange feline visitor of the previous night. He noticed with mild amusement that she left out a lot of the details. He ran his fingertips lightly along the creamy skin of her arm. He could not believe he hadn’t performed the blood exchange. He’d had plenty of opportunity—you couldn’t get much closer than they had just been. Hell, he could even do it right now. It didn’t take much blood from either of them, just a few sips, and it would only be once. The thought of drinking someone’s blood—even Megan’s—made him feel faintly sick. Since he was not looking forward to the process much himself, he knew there was little chance of Megan doing it voluntarily. The problem was he didn’t want to force or trick her into it anymore.
He wanted her to choose to be with him.
He wanted her to trust him.
“You think he will be all right?” She lifted her head from his chest to look at him.
“I’m sure he’s fine.”
“But anything could have happened to him.” She sat up, holding a corner of the throw over her breasts with one hand. “He could have been hit by a car, or someone could have captured him, maybe he’s locked up in a cage. D’you think it would be on the news?”
His amusement faded and he watched helplessly knowing that her distress was his fault. He made his decision—it could be dangerous, but if he wanted her to trust him this would be the first step. “Megan,” his voice wavered a bit. He grasped her shoulders as she reached for the television remote intent on turning on the news. Clearing his throat he looked into her eyes and tried again. “Megan, I need to tell you something.” She looked at him, impatience turning to wariness as she studied his face. He took a deep breath. “I’m a shapeshifter…the cat in your apartment last night was me.”
For an agonizing instant there was complete silence in the apartment. Jack watched Megan’s face, seeing astonishment, disbelief and finally anger reflected there before she spoke.
“That is not funny, Jack. I don’t know whether you are trying to make a fool of me but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and believe that was meant to be a joke.” She flung the edge of her cover towards him and stood frowning, hands on her hips, oblivious to the fact she was naked. Afternoon sunshine filtered through the half-closed vertical blinds at the window, bringing out red highlights in her hair and illuminating her pale skin.
Jack’s mind went blank as he gaped at her. God, she’s beautiful.
“I realize you probably think I’m being stupid, after all, he is just an animal. But Jack, there’s something about him…” her voice trailed off. “Are you even listening to me?”
He brought his attention back to her blue eyes, appalled at his daydreaming, and his nerves once again overtook his hormones. She looked down at herself…naked…and abruptly whipped the throw from where it was bundled on his lap, eyes widening at the half-erect cock, which hadn’t quite got the message from his brain. As she put the barrier of the coffee table between them, he grabbed one of the small cushions from the couch and covered himself, feeling ridiculous. She didn’t believe him. It almost was funny…almost.
“Megan, I wasn’t joking.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, shifting her attention from the material she was tucking in above her breasts and studying him. “My God, you are serious, aren’t you!?” He nodded. “Well, that is wonderful!” Hitching up the throw with one hand so she wouldn’t trip, she began to pace up and down the length of the small table, gesturing wildly with her free hand. “The first guy I have sex with in three years and he turns out to be certifiable.” She shot a glance at him as she passed. “This is what I get for sleeping with someone I met two days ago. Guess that makes me nuts, too.” She stopped and pointed a finger at him. “This is your fault, you know. I never do this, then you come along with that body and that smile and those fuck-me eyes.”
His brows lifted at the uncharacteristic curse. “Megan, I am not crazy. It really is true. I am a shapeshifter and I turned into the cat that was in your apartment last night.”
“Fine, prove it,” she challenged, folding her arms.
He thought for a moment. “You wear a nightshirt to bed.”
She shook her head. “Too easy. Besides the fact that half the population probably does, you could have seen that lying on the end of my bed.” Skepticism was clear in her expression.
“You told me I ‘better not have fleas’ before you climbed into bed with me.” Jack watched the battle in her eyes as she absorbed the fact that there was no way he could know that unless he had been there, but as he was rapidly learning, she was a true skeptic.
Anger darkened her eyes again as her mind provided the logical answer, “You spied on me! You were on the fire escape!”
Jack’s thoughts immediately went to the night he had watched her from the fire escape and knew guilt was evident in his face before he could suppress it.
She spun around and started
towards the kitchen. Briefly he considered using telepathy but quickly discarded the idea. She would only consider it to be another way he could have known what happened last night. It was bad enough she thought he had been physically spying on her, she would probably go up in flames when she discovered he could read her thoughts. He followed her and discovered her stumbling over the end of her makeshift robe as she retrieved his clothes from where they lay scattered around the floor. “I was not spying on you.”
She ignored him, muttering under her breath, Scottish accent broadening with every angry step so that he caught only the occasional words. “Idiot… Dammit… Crazy…”
Jack strode over to her and tossed the cushion onto the kitchen table—it wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen everything he had anyway. Then he pulled her gently up by her shoulders to face him. He felt his clothes brush against his abdomen as she clutched them in between their bodies. “I know because I was here. What do I have to do to prove it to you?”
Megan’s gaze met his and he knew he was not going to like what came next. “Show me.” He released her and took a step back as she continued. “Change into the cat right here, right now, and I’ll believe you.”
He closed his eyes, acutely aware of his failure to complete the bonding. “I can’t.”
She thrust his clothes at him. “I didnae think so!”
He took them without protest and dressed as he spoke. “I don’t control when the cat comes. There is no pattern to it.” She watched him silently and he continued. “That’s why I left in such a hurry the other night. The scratching was a sign that the change was coming.”
She tilted her head. “Or it could just have been allergies.” she said.
“Okay, so how do you explain a wild animal saving your life then coming to your apartment and spending the night on your bed?” he asked, frustrated.
