Kitty Wishes

by Dahlia Dewinters

  She ruffled her fingers through his sleep tousled hair and touched his bare shoulder.

  “Des, I like you a lot. I do. But I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess of a life.” She shrugged. “It’s too much for me to even begin to explain.”

  He took her hand and kissed the palm. “Every problem has a solution, Sakaria. Stop shutting me out.”

  Sakaria extricated her hand from his. “It’s not that easy, Des.”

  “Yes,” he insisted. “It is that easy.”

  Sakaria shook her head. She had to get out of there, now.

  “I’m going, Des. I’m sorry. I’ll call.” She left him before he could make her change her mind, snatching up her bag in the living room on the way out.

  * * * *

  It was one a.m in the morning when the cat flap made a soft sound, announcing the cat’s presence. She jumped nimbly onto the table, then onto the laptop keyboard, effectively ending any attempt that he was making at working, which was pathetic at best. Guess that was his signal to stop faking it and try to get some sleep.

  As he sat, he stroked the cat absently, thinking about Sakaria and why she’d left. Had his questions and insistence on her staying damaged them in some way? While “I’ll call”, wasn’t the best thing she could have said, it was better than “See you around”, which would have been the nail in the coffin.

  “What do you think, Cat?” He held the animal up to eye level. Her brown eyes were fascinating. Even more fascinating was the fact that the cat seemed to be looking right back at him. “Did Sakaria break up with me? I should just give her space, right?”

  The cat meowed twice, touched his nose with her paw and then meowed once.

  “Your ear looks much better, Cat.”

  “I hope she’s not seeing anyone else,” he kept talking to the cat as he walked into the kitchen and flicked on the sink light.

  The cat meowed twice as she followed him.

  “You’re not hungry, are you?”

  The cat meowed twice again and walked past the food bowl to the bedroom.

  “Okay, you’re a woman. You think she’s still angry with me?”

  The cat meowed twice from the hallway.

  Des shook his head. Maybe he should stop using the cat like a magic eight ball. He was starting to sound crazy even to himself.

  Best thing would be to get some sleep and think about it in the morning.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The man rapped twice before opening the back screen door. Sakaria peeked over the edge of the table from her vantage point on Des’s lap, giving the stranger the once-over as she twitched her tail. Since they’d had the argument, she hadn’t seen Des at all in her human form. He still continued to come to the café, according to Julie. However, no amount of persuasion or threats by Julie could make her go out front to face him.

  Sakaria didn’t know what to do about Des, how to get this curse off her nor how to deal with the feelings she had about him. So, she chose to not think about it and simply spend time with him as a cat. Much more fun than going out in the street at night and safer too. Halloween was drawing closer, not a safe time for cats.

  However, she still held out hope that Des would be able to help her, which is why she continued her nightly visits. Leave clues, Julie had told her. That shouldn’t be against the spell. But Sakaria couldn’t be sure and was hesitant to do anything other than what Will said. It made her angry that he even had a say in all of this.

  This was the first she’d spent time in cat form with Des during the day and thus her first time encounter with Ryan. He was a little taller than Des was, but had the same close shaved hair that was dark against his walnut-brown skin. But this one was exuberant and expressive where Des was quiet and contained. She ducked back down. Too much energy for her.

  Des kept his eyes on the laptop screen. He had been working for most of the morning, muttering under his breath and actually telling her how much people tried to cheat the system with claims. He also told her, the cat, how much he really liked Sakaria, the woman, and how he wished he knew why Sakaria, the woman, always left and never stayed the night.

  It was difficult for her to just sit there, meowing in all the right places without just shifting and telling him the entire story from beginning to end. When she slept now, she was frightened that the shift back to human would stop working. The panicky feeling would stay with her for most of the day as she went around doing her human tasks in her human form. Julie was right, she’d had her head in the sand and now time was ticking away on her. She was very afraid.

  “How is it,” Des said slowly to the man now standing in his dining room, “that you find the nerve to just walk into people’s houses without waiting for an invite?”

  “Door was open, you were sitting right there, bro. I knocked.” Jaw working at a wad of gum in his cheek, Ryan yanked a chair out and folded himself into it, leaning until he balanced on the back two legs. “So you coming to the party on Saturday or what? Bring your girl too.”

  Yes, Sakaria thought, he’s pushy.

  Desmond gave a slight sigh that only she could feel. “It’s a possibility. Sakaria and I sort of had a fight.”

  Not a fight, Sakaria thought. Only a slight disagreement.

  “Either way you should still come. Lots of good looking girls are going to be there.” He popped his gum, causing Sakaria to jump.

  He wasn't bad looking, Sakaria thought, peeking over the edge of the table at him again, but so much like a strong wind before a storm. His energy enveloped the room.

  “Oh, yeah, your fireman status guarantees the presence of good looking girls, I forgot.” Des looked at his cousin. “Maybe I’ll stop by, just to support you and your social endeavors.”

  “Hey!” The front rungs of the chair hit the hardwood floor with a bang as Ryan got up. “You got yourself a cat?” In two strides, he hovered over her and rubbed her head roughly. She yowled in protest. For goodness sake!

  Des reacted immediately. “Are you trying to pull her head off?” He warded off his cousin's hand.

  Sakaria lashed out with one paw and scratched him, not as hard as she could have but enough to teach him a lesson.

  “Damnit!” Ryan examined the shallow scratches. “She got me.”

  “I bet that happens a lot.” Des said with amusement in his voice. “You should be used to it.”

  Ryan snorted as he went back to his chair. “You and Sakaria had a fight? You must not be banging her right.”

  Des snorted. “Banging. Ridiculous term.”

  Ryan nodded knowingly. “If it’s right, she’ll come back. They always do.” He cracked his gum. “So what’s Miss Pussy’s name?”

  Sakaria’s ears pricked at the question. Des hadn’t called her anything but Cat this and Cat that. She would be very interested to know how he answered this question.

  “How do you know it’s a she?”

  Get to the point, she thought and let out a mew of impatience that neither man noticed.

  Ryan barked a laugh. “You wouldn’t have some stray tomcat snuggled against your jewels. And, she hasn't taken her eyes off me since I've been here. Definitely a girl.” He paused. “So what's her name?”

  “Cat.”

  “Cat? What?”

  Des shrugged. “She’s not really mine, I mean she comes and goes whenever.”

  “Aww,” Ryan said. “Just casual dates? No long term commitment? Real pretty cat though. Call her Foxy, you know like Foxy Brown.”

  Des sighed. “Foxy Brown?”

  “Most definitely. That’ll be the closest you’ll ever get to Pam Grier in this lifetime.” He snapped his fingers. “See you Saturday, right? With or without Sakaria.” He turned to go, then turned back. “Just don’t bring the cat, please.” He laughed.

  Sakaria yowled in protest. She didn’t mind the name Foxy, but she wasn’t going to just sit here and be insulted.

  Des rubbed her head. “I think you hurt her feelings.”

  Ryan laughe
d. “I think you need to spend more time with Miss Sakaria and less time with that cat. See you Saturday. Anytime after eight.”

  “Saturday. Yeah.” Des said absently as his cousin left. Sakaria jumped onto the table. “So what do you think of the name Foxy?”

  Sakaria gave a distracted mew and paced back and forth on the table, thinking. She didn’t know what to do. Some days she was content to just be a cat and to let the chips fall where they may. Other times, she wanted to beat the curse, to remain human and be with Des. She didn’t have much time left. What was she going to do?

  * * * *

  He was on the sofa, watching television when he heard the flap of the cat door.

  “Foxy?”

  She was on top of him, in his lap before he could say anymore, mewling, kneading her paws against his shirt and rubbing her face against his neck and hands.

  “Where do you go all day, girl?” He massaged the space between her ears. The little notch in her ear was barely noticeable with the fur grown up around it. “Busy social life? Hope you’re staying out of trouble. Not like me.”

  Foxy meowed sympathetically and touched her paw to his face.

  “You understand what I mean, right? The girl I’m seeing won’t cooperate.”

  The cat’s eyes flew open and she stood up and gave a long drawn out meow, making him laugh.

  “Just like you, right? You women are all the same.”

  Foxy jumped on the coffee table and began pacing back and forth. Her tail stuck straight in the air and she began a litany of yowling, meowing and hissing that sounded like she was telling him off.

  “All right, maybe not all the same.”

  Foxy meowed and got back into his lap. He was forgiven.

  * * * *

  Later that night, the dream started as usual. Foxy stalked around, jumping on his lap, jumping on the TV remote, jumping on a book he was trying to read. He didn’t dare take out the wood-burning tool because she would jump on that. It almost seemed as if the cat wanted him to go to bed. Maybe she was tired too. Running around in the streets probably took a lot out of her.

  He brushed his teeth and got into bed, fell asleep almost immediately with the sound of the cat’s purring in his ears.

  The dream started as usual. Moments after the spicy scent of cinnamon and vanilla drifted over him she was there, her naked warm body pressed against his.

  “Desmond,” she whispered in his ear as she planted kisses on his neck and face. “I miss you.”

  She licked him, a slow sensuous trailing of her tongue from below his ear down his neck.

  “You taste so good,” she whispered, continuing her trail down his body until she reached his dick, which was hard and waiting for her.

  She slipped him in her mouth and he moaned, the warm wetness causing his cock to harden more. She slid her lips down his shaft, kissing and licking, teasing him until he thought he was going to explode, then took him in fully, sucking hard and winding her soft, wet tongue in an agonizingly slow, sweeping pattern around the tip. Her breath warmed him, bringing to life the areas she had touched with her tongue.

  He reached down and brushed his fingers across her hair and her face, his senses deceiving him into thinking this was reality. Her lips were full, wet and soft against his dick as she continued to slide her mouth on him, creating a strong suction that brought him close to the edge.

  Her loose, wild hair, what seemed like miles of it, slipped and slid across his body, spreading her scent all over him.

  “Sakaria,” he whispered hoarsely, feeling the orgasm start to build. Her tongue swirled faster, flicking ever so lightly at the tip. He must be going crazy. Nothing could feel this good and be a dream.

  Then, suddenly, she was on top of him, her hair a cloud around her face as she smoothly slid herself onto his cock. He watched her face as she settled on to him, her eyes half-lidded, a kittycat smile playing across her face as she moved slowly up and down. Her hands drew feathery patterns across his chest as he matched her rhythm, hoping to give her as much pleasure as she was giving him.

  He placed his hands on her waist to steady her and watched as she gently stroked her own breasts, rolling the nipples between her fingers until they stood up like hard, smooth pebbles. She moved faster now, leaning forward until they were both were enveloped in the curtain of her hair.

  “Sakaria,” he murmured again and kissed her, pulling her to him, letting his tongue wander into her mouth. Her pussy fluttered around his cock as her orgasm approached, intensifying the pleasurable sensation. He thrust into her harder, wanting her to come, needing to see the pleasure/pain on her face as she went over the edge with a surprised “oh!” that was followed by his own wrenching explosion. He gasped, his eyes closing tight, emptying himself into her.

  When he opened his eyes, or thought he opened his eyes, only Foxy was there, curled up in a ball on the other pillow, snoring away.

  He sat up in bed, bewildered, but awake. He was sure of it. Sort of. But there was no Sakaria, only Foxy on the next pillow, snoring. Just… weird. He lay down and went back to sleep.

  * * * *

  Sakaria watched him through slit cat eyes, feigning sleep. She almost got caught this time. The sex was getting so good that she didn’t want to shift back to cat. She wanted to cuddle against him, feel the stickiness of their bodies together. Then, in the morning, she wanted to sleep late while he made breakfast. Early mornings were not her forte.

  She settled into the curve of her body more deeply and tucked her tail in for sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Desmond went to the Halloween party reluctantly, mostly because he didn't want to hear Ryan's constant yakking about him not going anywhere and partly because he had some irrational thought that he might see Sakaria. He rather regretted bringing up the issue of her not staying the night, but it was important to him to know what was going on.

  Foxy had been missing in action all day. He was a bit worried about her. Halloween wasn’t the best time for cats to run the streets. He placed chicken salad and another bowl of water on the floor and left, making sure the cat door was unlocked. He still wondered how she was able to get out in the first place. He was pretty sure that he had locked the cat door last night before he went to bed.

  As soon as he entered Ryan’s house, a two-story modern colonial, loud music and bright costume colors assaulted him. There were the requisite zombies, the sexy vampires and the lazy ghosts. Then there were the clever costumes, those that he didn’t care enough about to figure out.

  Ryan came up to him, all smiles and charm and handed him a cold beer.

  “You made it,” he said as Desmond twisted off the top and took a fortifying swallow.

  “Yeah. I’m here,” he said, looking around. He looked at his cousin, dressed in a long sleeved t-shirt and jeans. “No costume?”

  “I’m dressed as an off duty firefighter.” Ryan pointed at the little appliquéd red flame on the shirt.

  Desmond laughed. “You just don’t want to look like a douche.”

  “Exactly.” He gestured around them. “I love this holiday. Women dress in sexy costumes and get drunk. What could be better?” He drained his bottle and tossed it into the recycling bin. “I think I might have seen your girl here. Why didn’t you come together?”

  “I told you, we had a little disagreement.”

  Ryan raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “Well, I think she’s here.”

  He brightened. “Really?”

  “Yeah, she came with Julie who won’t give me the time of day. Go find your girl. Tell her to tell Julie-baby that I’m totally cool.” Ryan clapped him on the back and moved on.

  The key was to keep moving. Don’t get trapped against a wall or in a corner by some woman over eager to snag a quickie. He moved from room to room. He didn’t want some insincere, drunk female lying about how interesting his job was.

  He turned a corner into some random hallway and he saw her. Rather, he saw her hair, the long, thick
multicolored hair that was, he realized now, eerily similar in color to Foxy’s. A totally insane thought began germinating in the back of his head, one that he shook off very, very quickly before it started to grow.

  Des hurried over to where she was engaged in conversation with Julie and a couple of her friends. He touched her on the arm.

  “Sakaria.”

  She immediately turned toward him as if she were just waiting for an excuse to get out of the huddle.

  “Desmond, hi!” She looked a little drunk, but pleased to see him. So far, so good.

  He took her arm and led her to a quieter corner. He had a million things he wanted to say to her, but not one of them would come.

  “How’s your cat?” She finished her drink and tossed the plastic cup in the trash. “Still pushing the food bowl away?”

  Desmond looked at her. How did she know about that? Was that something that cats did in general? And why was she mentioning this now?

  “True,” he said slowly. “She’s been away all day too. I’m a little worried.”

  She nudged him playfully. “What did you do, threaten to spay her?” She laughed lightly. “She might not like that too much.”

  “I don’t think anyone would.”

  He was standing very close to her, close enough to catch a whiff of her sweet, alcoholic breath. Because he had nothing to say, he studied her. She wore a low scooped neck white t-shirt, a coffee-colored sweater and a long black skirt. She had, of all things, a headband with brown cat ears stuck crookedly in her thick, curly hair, which for once was loose and hung heavily down her back. She saw him looking at the ears and touched them self-consciously.

  “I'm not a big costume wearer,” she laughed and glanced at his outfit of blue oxford shirt and jeans. “I can see that you aren't either.”

  “Not really my style.” He wasn’t going to repeat the douche comment he’d made to Ryan. Point was, she was here and talking to him and that was what mattered.

  “Me neither.” She raised her hand to her right ear and fiddled with her earring. He noticed that there was a tiny notch taken out of the top of her ear. Funny he hadn’t noticed that before.