Mr. Purr-fect and the Geek (Gone Geek, #2)

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Mr. Purr-fect and the Geek (Gone Geek, #2) Page 7

by Sidney Bristol


  The avatar rounded the bend in the cavern and she deployed the spirit guide, a sort of decoy that would take damage before her character. A couple strides and the onslaught of the attack began.

  At almost the same damn moment that Miranda moved the joystick, Raul slid a single finger into her. She shifted, moving her hips. He pushed her foot over the edge of the sofa and kissed her stomach.

  Damn him.

  Damn him a lot.

  She pushed a few buttons at random, burning through some of her stored mana with no benefit to her progress whatsoever before her brain kicked in.

  The game. The game. The game.

  Swiveling the joystick, she navigated the avatar through the poison gas minefield and out of range from the worm.

  Raul’s knuckles brushed her and his finger curled deep within her.

  She was going to bite through her lip if he kept this up.

  Miranda breathed, and pushed on. The health bar was far lower than she’d like, and the second half of the level was progressively harder. Not that Raul knew that, because he kept getting bogged down at the beginning. He really needed to stop choosing range characters when what he needed was a good tank, but he hadn’t asked, so she hadn’t suggested.

  He pumped another finger in her and licked her breast, swirling his tongue around the tight nipple.

  There was no way he could miss her racing heartbeat.

  Damn him.

  She stopped by a healing orb, replenishing her health, and took the moment of calm to let her eyes flutter closed.

  God, Raul had talented fingers.

  “How’s it going?” he asked again.

  “Fine.”

  “Good.”

  He gently massaged her clit.

  She swallowed.

  Fuck.

  Miranda shifted, sitting up a bit and effectively hampering Raul’s movement. She powered through another bit of the level, scoring a nice chunk of loot in the process. By the time she hit her stride—Raul found his.

  His fingers slid forward, over her mound and clit, and back inside of her. She swallowed and fought to keep her eyes open.

  Fuuuuuuuck that felt good.

  Just a little bit further—and she’d either come or reach the end.

  If she totally bypassed the monsters and made a run for it...maybe she could finish the game first... It was a terrible idea, because as she progressed, the dungeon monsters would simply amass behind her, right on her tail. But it was that or stop playing. And she was far too competitive to give up like that.

  Joystick pushed all the way forward, she ran, tossing down traps and using the distance weapon to put down the more dangerous creatures, all while Raul pumped in and out of her pussy. She squirmed, though she didn’t want to.

  He applied more pressure to her clit.

  Shit.

  She wanted to come.

  But she also wanted to beat the stupid level.

  Just a little farther.

  Miranda moaned, despite her best efforts. Raul hooked his arm under her thigh, pulling her ass closer to the edge of the sofa with no regard for the life-or-death sprint she was in. His tongue licked her sensitized clit and her back arched off the sofa.

  The bastard.

  He was so not winning.

  She threw down yet more traps, draining the character’s reserves dry and put on more speed.

  Raul put a twist to his finger-thrusts.

  The crimson halo of light quickly filled the screen.

  She’d won!

  Miranda dropped the controller right on top of Raul’s head—by accident, but it was his fault. She groaned as he continued to finger fuck her. As talented as his fingers were—that was not at all what she wanted.

  High on lust, she grabbed the waistband of her shorts and pushed them down. Raul was forced back in the process. He sat on his heels while she kicked off her panties, grinning like he was the winner. She snagged the condom she’d stuck in the tiny, mostly useless pocket of her shorts, and ripped it open.

  “What? You finished?” He twisted to glare at the screen.

  “Not yet I didn’t. Up here. Now.” She slapped the sofa.

  “Bossy.”

  “You have no idea.”

  Raul grinned and slithered up onto the sofa, his boxers and jeans falling to the floor next to her shorts. She straddled his legs and he held his erection while she rolled the latex on. She lost no time scooting forward until his cock brushed against her wet folds. He stared deep into her eyes as she sank onto him, her arousal slicking her channel, making the intrusion easy.

  “Fuck—you’re hot.” Raul kneaded her ass with both hands.

  She gripped his shoulders, a lot less interested in talking.

  He lifted, guiding and supporting her as she rose. Gravity did the rest. She worked her hips, taking him deeper, stroking the length of his cock.

  Raul strained toward her until their mouths met in a hungry kiss. He rose up, thrusting into her with more force. She moaned as tremors of pleasure snaked through her.

  The pleasure coiled tight in her belly. She was too close to orgasm, too far gone to last.

  She dug her fingers into his hair, working her hips faster, seeking her pleasure with a hungry determination. Raul reached between them, his thumb playing her clit.

  Her body felt as though it burst apart, pleasure radiating out from her core.

  Raul continued to thrust up into her, drawing out the orgasm.

  “Fuck, yes, fuck me—you feel so good.” Raul’s voice was raspy, low.

  She gasped and held onto his shoulders. Her toes curled, and she struggled to move with him.

  He gripped her hips, moving her in time to his thrusts. She leaned forward, pushing her hand into his hair, kissing his mouth. His hold tightened, almost painfully, and he pounded deeper, harder—then stilled, his face momentarily frozen in a silent shout.

  His soul-deep groan made her grin in turn.

  Who was the winner now?

  Frank minimized his work email and stretched. Saturdays were for uninterrupted work and personal matters. Now that the most pressing things were out of the way...

  A missed call on his cell caught his attention. Not because he’d missed a call—he regularly ignored his phone on the weekend. It was who the caller was.

  The PI.

  Frank frowned and pressed the voicemail icon and lifted the phone to his ear.

  “Hi, Mr. Kellis. You said to inform you of any overnight visitors not on the approved list...”

  “Yes?” Frank’s hand curled into a fist. What was she doing now?

  “I observed a yet unidentified male entering the home last night around eight, and he has yet to leave.”

  “Thank you for letting me know.” The words tasted wooden in Frank’s mouth.

  “Not a problem, sir.”

  The PI ended the call.

  Frank carefully set the phone down on the desk. He hefted the Bluetooth mouse in his hand and hurled it across the room. Bits of plastic broke apart and the pieces went scattering under furniture. He shoved to his feet, growling profanities.

  She had a man. A man—staying with her.

  What the actual fuck?

  Frank paced the office shoving his hands through his hair.

  His gut said to go to her. Be near her. And yet—he couldn’t. Not after he’d nearly gotten caught a few weeks ago. It wasn’t time yet. The house wasn’t ready. Nothing was prepared.

  He needed to wait.

  Just a little while longer.

  They could fix this.

  He picked up the photograph he’d framed. The one of her with the red lips.

  Frank pressed a kiss to her mouth.

  Whoever the fuck this man was, he would not come between them...

  7.

  Miranda flopped onto her desk chair and swung from side to side.

  The house was quiet without Raul there. She almost wished she’d gone with him on whatever sort of emergency animal rescue thing h
e’d been called away on. But that would mean leaving Lola alone with the kittens, and though Miranda was thrilled as punch Runty McRunt-Pants was eating, she couldn’t bring herself to leave them for long.

  Besides, she hadn’t yet heard an update about Piper’s date and Rashae should know soon if she was going to officially get the artist gig for the board game thing she was excited about.

  She grabbed her phone and checked the girl chat.

  There were easily a couple hundred messages. She always got a bit sick to her stomach when there were that many waiting for her. Had something horrible happened? Was there good news? Or was Tamara sending them random cat videos again?

  One of the last messages was a video chat invite.

  She shook the desktop mouse, waking up the PC and clicked through to the video chat.

  “Look who’s joining us!” Tamara’s voice blared through the speakers.

  “Dear God, you’re loud.” Miranda winced and turned the volume down as the three other screens flickered to life. “We’re all here?”

  “Now that you decided to show up.” Rashae gave her The Look. “More about you later. Piper was just starting to tell us about—what’s his name?”

  “His name is Kobe.” Piper had her knees drawn up and her arms around her shins.

  “Like—the basketball player?” Miranda shifted, settling in.

  “Yeah.” Piper rolled her eyes.

  “She was telling us how it was—and wasn’t—awesome, before you decided to interrupt.” Rashae propped her chin in her hands.

  “Yeah. Like, he’s super neat to talk to, but...I don’t know.” Piper squinted. “He’s for sure not telling me something.”

  “Everyone has baggage,” Tamara chimed in.

  “What’s he look like? Do you have a picture? How’d you meet him?” Miranda hadn’t heard anything about the guy.

  “Yeah, what’s up with not telling us?” Tamara frowned. If Tamara didn’t know, then Piper for sure hadn’t yet shared the details.

  “I met him online at one of those dating-swiper sites.” Piper leaned forward, her laptop mouse swishing back and forth. “Hang on, I’m sending you guys a picture now...there.”

  Miranda clicked the attachment.

  “He’s Asian!” Tamara pumped her fist. “Hold on, I might know him.”

  “Shut up, Tamara.” Piper rolled her eyes. They were the only two of the four who lived in the same city.

  “Wow...” Miranda’s eyebrows rose.

  Kobe wasn’t Raul, but the guy was certainly attractive. He had that bad boy stare down, a six pack and everything else in-between. She could see the appeal. And why he’d be into someone as drop-dead beautiful as Piper.

  “Wait—is this like...a head shot? Is he a model or an actor? He lives here in L.A., right?” Tamara’s face filled the screen as she peered at the picture.

  “Yes, he’s from here, no, he’s not a model or an actor. I asked him why he had what looks like agency pictures on his profile, but he didn’t really give me a straight answer. Something about a friend and photography.” Piper shrugged.

  “I don’t know...” Tamara frowned.

  “What’s with the Asian hate, Asian?” Rashae squinted at the camera.

  “Nothing.” Tamara sat back.

  “What?” Piper demanded.

  “Nothing. Nothing. Did you have fun?”

  “Tamara.” Piper frowned. “Don’t make me come over there.”

  “No, forget I said anything.”

  “Oh, come on, Tamara, now we all want to know.” Rashae slapped the desk.

  “It’s just...” Tamara rolled her eyes and sat up a little straighter. “He’s like, really pretty. Guys this pretty in L.A. are usually here for something, you know? Be an actor. Get a record deal. Modeling. He’s way too good-looking to not have a thing, you know?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.” Piper sighed. “Miranda, what about you? You’ve been super quiet.”

  “Yeah, how’d last night with Mr. Purrfect go?” Rashae asked.

  “Good.” Miranda grinned. She couldn’t help it.

  “Wait—is he still there?” Rashae’s jaw dropped.

  “No, he left a little bit ago. But...” Miranda clasped her hands together. “He is coming back. The guys he does the animal rescue with had a medical rescue emergency, so he went to take care of that and pick up some clean clothes.”

  “Shut up!” Rashae clapped and threw her head back. “I hate you all. Why am I the single one now?”

  “Woo-hoo! Is he a tool or a keeper?” Tamara grinned right back.

  “He’s so not a tool. I was really surprised by how nice he is.” Though ‘nice’ wasn’t the word Miranda would use when he was throwing her around like a ragdoll.

  “What does that smile mean? Are you blushing?” Tamara peered at her through the monitor.

  “Yes.” Miranda covered her face.

  “What happened?” Rashae demanded.

  “Is he into something weird?” Piper asked.

  “Nothing weird, just—it was good.” Miranda shrugged.

  “I like that he’s there with you. I’ve been worried about you being alone since the break-ins and everything.” Tamara leaned an elbow on her desk and toyed with the end of her braid. “Does the detective know anything else? Any new leads? Is it connected to that stalker guy?”

  Miranda’s stomach churned and she swallowed. “Nothing new. Max—the detective who was on Andrea and Crystal’s case—took over my case and has been looking into it but...”

  “Nothing new? Still?” Piper shook her head.

  “No, but I do feel safer with Raul here.” Miranda leaned back in her chair. There was nothing worse than feeling scared in her own home and having no one believe her. Someone had to break-in to her house for the police to take her seriously, and even then, until Max looked into her case, hardly anyone would pay attention to her complaints over the years that someone had been following her. Snapping pictures. Around every damn corner. She refused to live her life in fear, but it made for some paranoia.

  “All those muscles... He can protect me any day.” Rashae grinned.

  The very muscles Raul had used to toss Miranda around. He made her feel...small. Which was something that hadn’t happened in a very long time.

  “What does that look mean? Miranda?”

  “Nothing!”

  “Oh, come on, I told you all about ripping-my-clothes-off sex. You have to give us details!” Tamara tried and failed to pout.

  Miranda managed to get out some of the highlights. She left out plenty, because while they were friends—it was Raul she was sleeping with.

  “Aw, he sounds like he’s making you really happy. That’s good. You deserve to be happy.” Piper had her chin propped up in her hand.

  “Yeah, I mean, it’s still way too early to tell, but...I like him.” Miranda sighed the dreamy sigh of lust. When the heck was sexy scrubs getting back here?

  Raul glanced at the clock.

  Another four, agonizing hours to go before he could get home—correction—he could go to Miranda’s house.

  He really had to stop thinking of it as home. Granted, he hadn’t slept in his own bed since last Friday. A full seven days ago, now. He pulled out his phone and smiled at the lock screen, a particularly cute picture of Miranda, Lola and Runty McRunt-Pants. The kitten needed a new name, that was for sure, but everything else was...perfect. This thing between them was a whirlwind, but in a good way.

  She believed in him, his vision for the rescue...without her, he’d probably have continued to flounder around. In a week, she’d set them up with a website, revamped their social media and branded things—whatever that meant. The proof was there though. They had real, honest-to-God donations coming in. She was completely amazing, and that wasn’t even taking into account everything else about her. Still, it was a lot of changes in a very little amount of time. It was a lot to take in.

  Dinner order will be ready to pick up on your way home!<
br />
  It was over an hour old, and totally mundane, but he smiled at the message. She thought of everything.

  Raul just wished there was something he could do for her. He stayed at her place, kept her up way too late, and played her games. Taking out the trash, keeping the litter box clean and an eye on the kittens wasn’t hardly enough. He had the idea that there was something she wasn’t telling him, but he was willing to wait her out. So long as she wasn’t hiding anything horrific from him, he had a good feeling about whatever it was they were doing.

  Flowers were good and all, but he needed to do something...more.

  “Dr. C, there you are.” A big, burly man covered in tattoos, sporting biker leathers and a white beard entered the clinic through the back door, a pet carrier in hand.

  “John, hey. What’cha got there?” Raul eyed the mewling carrier with trepidation. What the heck had his roommate found this time?

  “Mama cat and her kittens. They’ve got a lot of fleas and mange. Got a minute to take a look? Say...are you coming back to the house?”

  “Let me guess, you want to stick them in my room?” Raul peered into the carrier.

  “If you aren’t going to be around... She’s got mange pretty bad. It’d probably be best if she didn’t—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just—put the mattress up? Or something. I’d prefer for it not to get peed on again.”

  “Oh—hey, remember we were talking about doing a fancy thing? Look at this place.” John handed a brochure for a water front party spot. The slick pictures were classy. Upscale. “Does that fit what you were thinking?”

  “Maybe? I’ll give this to Miranda. See what she thinks.” He laid it down, snapped a picture and sent it off. Her business plan had a lot of off-shoots and things that didn’t make any sense to him. All Raul kept coming back to was the matter of money. They needed a lot of it. Even to do a fundraiser to get more money. “Okay, mama, let’s see how you’re doing.”

  “She’s really sweet. Bet she was someone’s housecat once. Say, are we still getting together this weekend?”

  “You mean, is Miranda inviting everyone over so you can take up her sofa and play Drudge again? Yeah, Saturday afternoon.”

  “Cool, man. I like this girl.”

 

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