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Sexual war wounds. Even now, I wanted her again.
She followed me into the bathroom and gasped at the sight of my back. “Did I do that?”
“Yes.” I pulled her against me and gave her a kiss to stave off her turkey-based questions. “I really have to shower now. I can’t go to work smelling like we just fucked. Though I really wish I could.” I filled my palm with her breast. “Can I wash your hair?”
“Yes.” She bit her lip. “Does your sister know I’m weird?”
“She knows I’m weird, so she wouldn’t expect any less.” Gently, I kissed her. “You saved me tonight. Do you know that?”
She didn’t say anything.
I eased back and tipped up her chin. “My job…I left it once. I had to for my sanity. Same reason I came back. Some things are hard and awful sometimes but they’re part of you. Part of me. I need to do what I do, but I’ve never found a place of peace.” Thunder seemed to shake the building. “You’re my peace, Kitty. And I can’t imagine letting you go.”
She swallowed deeply. “I really don’t want you to let me go, so if I try to run, don’t let me.”
“I think that’s considered kidnapping in some jurisdictions? Or unlawful imprisonment.”
“Sounds kinky.” She sucked in air between her teeth. “I want to give you a key so you can just come in when you want to and not have to rely on my neighbors to let you in.” She bit her lip. “How do you feel about that?”
I tucked her curls behind her ears. “I feel like I want you to keep my key too. But I didn’t bring it with me.”
“Tomorrow,” she said quietly. “This is moving fast.”
“Seems right on pace to me.”
And if that made me crazy, so be it.
She leaned up on her tiptoes to press her forehead to mine. “How do you feel about turducken?”
I had no clue what turducken was, but I was learning to appreciate new experiences. “Sounds heavenly.”
SIXTEEN
Clint was very lateto work.
But it wasn’t entirely the fault of my magic pussy, so named by him during round two? Three? I didn’t know for sure, just that my magic was currently sore as hell.
His boss Grant had called and insisted—no, ordered—that Clint take the morning off. They’d sent some of the rescued animals to a regional emergency vet, making the situation at Thorny Paw a little less dire.
Clint’s chat with his boss had evened him out to the point he’d even laughed a bit on the phone. And he’d grinned when I’d sent him off to work with his jacket pockets full of cookies.
I’d never been the domestic sort before, and certainly not for a man, but it made me feel all warm inside to bake for him and plan the dinner we’d have when he got off work—assuming it was before midnight.
Even if it wasn’t, I planned to have a roast waiting for him in the Crockpot I’d just gotten delivered via my shopping app. Naturally I had no clue how to make a roast but I’d researched it online and the smell coming from my kitchen made my stomach growl all day while I cleaned up the apartment.
Funny how even vacuuming cat hair could be enjoyable when you were also doing it for someone else to see, not just you. Princess ran so fast from the vacuum that she nearly gouged material out of the couch cushions during her flight from the room, but otherwise, the afternoon went well enough that I decided to not only deliver another Christmas-paper-wrapped sub to Clint, I also stopped by his place afterward to pick up the key he’d left for me in his mailbox.
No pressure, he’d said, but I wanted to check on Lucky. I also had a surprise in mind for Clint involving his cat and the baby gate I’d taken out of the closet and stretched across my bedroom doorway. When I returned from my lunchtime errands with a dubious Lucky—who’d only tolerated me catnapping him from his home due to my extra-large pouch of fishy treats—Princess was on my bed, staring at the gate with obvious disgust. She could’ve leaped over it but Lucky and his bulk wasn’t as sure of a bet. I hoped.
You could never be sure with cats though. They were wily.
Princess’s gold eyes narrowed as she spotted who was in my arms. Lucky looked up at me for another treat and I gave it to him, thinking erroneously I was buying his cooperation.
Wrong. A moment later, he twisted out of my arms and went sailing through the air right onto the bed, landing about a half inch from Princess. She let out a screech designed to raise the dead and then the fur was flying in every direction as I hurried to move the baby gate so I could get in the room to break up the fight.
Save me, Jackson Galaxy!
I rushed in to separate the cats, flinging fishy treats in all directions while trying not to yell since Jackson said distractions were the way to end disputes, not using a loud voice. Except neither of them seemed to care about the treats. Princess booked out of the room and Lucky pursued at top speed, leaving me no choice but to follow.
