Truth about Cats Read online

  No, she assured herself. I don't want to look. She didn't want to have anything to do with Rick. She supposed she should be grateful that she had a chance to see this side of him. She'd left him in an innocent conversation with her father, and the moment she turned her back, he flirted with anything in a skirt. Or out of a skirt, she mentally added.

  One of the blondes, Jennifer didn't know whether it was Tiffany or Amber, and didn't much care, jiggled herself over to where Rick had left his shirt on the back of his truck, accidentally rubbed it against her cleavage, then handed it to him.

  Rick pulled it on without seeming to notice the sexual invitation in the blonde's action. Or maybe he did notice and was just so used to women throwing themselves at him that he didn't bother reacting.

  "We were going to have strawberries and champagne a little later," the other blonde told Rick. "Maybe you'd like to come."

  He gave her a friendly smile. "Sorry. I've got plans."

  He said no, but Jennifer didn't miss that smile, dripping with promise. And she'd heard the word sorry loud and clear.

  Reality hit her like the frozen fish had hit Rick. Fixing Rick up with the right kind of woman would be a perfect step seven. Marrying the bank chairman's daughter would let Rick move up to vice president at a record pace.

  She couldn't make herself buy the argument no matter how rational it was. She might know that she could never have Rick. That didn't mean she was willing to just let some rich snit walk up and take him over.

  That could be step eleven, she promised herself. Rick wasn't ready yet.

  It galled her that he could be sorry to miss champagne and strawberries with nubile blonde babes. After all, why wouldn't he prefer a couple of hours with her parents, letting her father tell him how worthless he was?

  All right, so she was irrational.

  "Dinner's ready," she announced. "You'd better wash up."

  "Come by any time," the first blonde told Rick.

  "Any time at all," the second added. She gave Jennifer a nasty frown, then dismissed her from any consideration. "I still owe you that ride, Rick." Innuendo dripped from her voice.

  Jennifer spun on her heels and stomped back to her parents' apartment. If she stayed any longer, she would start emulating her kittens and try to tear one or both of the blondes to shreds.

  "Are they coming?" her mother asked as Jennifer stomped into the apartment and slammed the door behind her.

  "Not if I can help it."

  "Pardon?"

  Jennifer slapped her hand to her mouth. She hadn't meant to say that out loud. "I told them dinner was ready."

  "Is something wrong, honey?"

  Jennifer reached for a tissue and blew her nose. "He was out there with two blondes all over him."

  "Let me guess. Tiffany and Amber?"

  She nodded and dabbed at her eyes. Damned allergies.

  "If you want him, fight for him." Her mother plunked down a big bowl of mashed potatoes. "You aren't the only woman smart enough to recognize a good thing when she sees one."

  "Mother. I'm not interested in Rick that way. I'm just trying to help him--"

  "Too bad you're not interested. He looks pretty interested in you."

  "That's why he was down there pawing the T and A girls."

  Her mother giggled. "T and A girls. Tiffany and Amber--that's a good one." She paused briefly. "Was he really pawing them?"

  Jennifer forced down her anger for a moment. "They were pawing him, not the other way around. Still, he didn't have to go down and work on their cars, did he?"

  "He didn't have to help you out, either, honey. You've got yourself a man who doesn't mind pitching in."

  "Yeah, but--"

  "Mmm, that smells fine." Her father's voice boomed into the conversation. "A woman who can cook, that's the ultimate fantasy."

  Her mother smiled. "Flattery won't get you seconds. The doctor said to watch what you eat. Besides, Jennifer made the pie. You'll have to butter her up for dessert."

  "Oh, heck. You can't blame a man for trying."

  Rick gave Jennifer a quirked half-smile. "Feeling better?"

  "I'm fine."

  "Funny, you looked a little peeved earlier."

  "Yeah. Well you looked--"

  "Would you carve, Rick?" her mother interrupted.

  ***

  "Do you want a beer?" Rick reached into his refrigerator and pulled out a brew. He figured he deserved it after spending three hours letting Jennifer send chill vibes his way.

  He hadn't even been able to enjoy the home-cooked meal her mother had made. And that was a shame. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a roast.

  "Do you have wine?"

  He frowned. "Make a shopping list and I'll pick things up."

  "It doesn't matter. I'm going to bed."

  "At eight o'clock? Why don't you just tell me what put your shorts in a knot?"

  "I have no idea what you're talking about."

  Rick put the beer back in the 'fridge and closed the distance between them. "I think you do. Did something happen while you were cooking dinner? I thought you wanted to stay."

  "I did want to stay. I hardly ever get to see my parents anymore."

  Jennifer turned away from him but Rick thought he caught a glitter in her eyes. Could she be crying?

  He reached for her chin and gently tugged until she turned around and looked at him.

  He'd been mistaken. She looked mad.

  He knew he was taking his life into his hands, but it was worth it. He brushed his thumbs against her cheeks. Lord, this woman was beautiful.

  "I'm sorry," Jennifer grated out. "I know I'm in the way. But I just--"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "You wanted to go with those two girls, didn't you? I mean, how could you not? They were so young and pretty and, well, bubbly and rich. Besides, I've always heard that every man in the world secretly wants to do two girls at--"

  He put his hand over her mouth. Could she really be jealous? "Are you talking about Tiffany and Amber?"

  "I don't know. Were there any other blondes in the sorority who were throwing themselves at you?"

  "Hum. Well, Jackie seemed interested. Monique was a brunette, but she certainly--"

  Jennifer tried to bite his hand.

  "I was kidding," he said. "Tiffany and Amber are just kids. They wanted some help with their cars." And maybe, he admitted to himself, they got a little bit of a thrill flirting with someone a little dangerous, like him--someone they could fantasize about taking home to their daddies to give him a heart attack.

  "Trust me, those so-called kids are all grown up."

  "I wasn't talking about physically." Rick brushed his thumb across her lips. "I'm just not interested in a woman who hasn't lived enough to be able to carry on a conversation. I'm a lot more interested in a woman who's had to face the world on her own. Not to mention someone who's actually concerned about things other than just herself."

  Jennifer jerked her face away from his touch. "You don't have to humor me. I mean, I guess I could stay in my room if you wanted to bring up Tiffany or Amber, or someone else, for that matter."

  "Trust me, I'm not humoring you."

  She looked torn between ripping his head off and believing him. To his surprise, she pressed her face into his chest. "You took off your shirt, showing off for them."

  "Uh, sweetheart, it was over a hundred degrees out. I wasn't showing off, I was trying to keep from being a stinky mess when we went back for dinner."

  She shook her head against his chest. "You never take off your shirt for me."

  That didn't make a lot of sense, but then again this whole conversation wasn't making much sense. Not unless he was ready to assume that Jennifer's hormones were as crazy as his own. "You want me to take off my shirt?"

  Jennifer nodded slowly, her face moving against his chest. "Uh huh."

  Rick's heart accelerated to double-time. "That could be arranged." He reached for the top button but
his hand collided with hers.

  "I'll do it. I've been thinking about this since I saw you in Schilling's."

  "You saw me with no shirt on when I was sparring."

  "That wasn't for me, that was for Sensei or whatever his name was."

  "And you saw me when you cut my hair and--"

  "Shut up." Jennifer yanked down the shirt.

  Eric had never seemed particularly interested in whether Rick wore a shirt or not. Jennifer did, though.

  The air conditioning felt good against the muscles of his suddenly bare back. Jennifer nuzzled against him, then caught the tip of his nipple between her teeth creating a sudden increase in his internal temperature.

  "This isn't very fair," he observed.

  "What?"

  He reached for the buttons of her blouse. "I've been dying to see you naked."

  "Oh." She halfway pulled away. "I'm not as big as those blondes. I don't want you to be disappointed. I--"

  "I'm a lot more interested in quality than quantity, honey."

  "That's tacky and low-class."

  "Tacky and low-class is the story of my life. So if you want me to shut up, you'd better stop talking and kiss me."

  Rather than let her come up with a snappy answer, Rick bent and captured Jennifer's mouth with his own.

  Her lips molded to his but, for an instant, he thought she would close her mouth against him. Could he have completely misread the situation?

  Then Jennifer wrapped one arm around his neck, pulling him closer to her. She opened her mouth and sent her tongue exploring, tasting him.

  "Umm," he growled. Things were getting out of hand.

  "Oh, yes." Jennifer's free hand pressed against the front buttons of his jeans. For better or worse, there was no more hiding exactly who excited him.

  Jennifer might have forgotten about unfastening her own clothing, but Rick labored under no such handicap. He slid his fingers down the front of her blouse, unfastening each button with a gentle tug.

  There was definitely nothing the matter with Jennifer's breasts. Quite the contrary. Although they might not have the miraculous shape that owed its perfection to the art of plastic surgery, they were larger than he'd imagined they would be. He popped the front clasp of her white bra and spilled her breasts into his waiting hands.

  "Maybe we should move to your bedroom," Jennifer suggested. "Things are about to get complicated. I hope."

  Rick felt confident that he was up to dealing with that type of complication. Still, the bedroom sounded like a wonderful idea. Before she could change her mind, he bent and swung her up in his arms.

  "I'm too heavy," she protested.

  "No," he corrected, "you're just right."

  He pressed his lips to hers, then carried her into his room.

  ***

  Jennifer hadn't been in Rick's room before and wasn't sure what she expected. Probably a pile of beer bottles, mounds of mildewing laundry, and cheap pinups thumbtacked to the wall. She was close with the pinups. More of those tacky framed tattoo.com posters. Otherwise the room was immaculate. Even the bed was made.

  "What's the deal with tattoos?" she murmured.

  "My road to wealth," he said.

  Well, if he didn't want to tell her about it, that was his prerogative. Right now she had a lot more important things in mind. Like getting the rest of Rick's clothes off. After she got his clothes off, and after she'd followed the urge that hadn't left her since high school, maybe she'd take the time to look for tattoos.

  Rick placed her on his bed, then slowly peeled off her shorts. "You have a beautiful body."

  "Keep talking, big guy."

  "I'm afraid my mouth is going to be too busy." He followed his words with action capturing one of her nipples with his lip and teasing it with his tongue. He seized the other breast with a hand. With his other hand, he stroked the thin silk of her panties.

  "Lose your pants, Rick," Jennifer ordered.

  "I'm busy."

  She made herself unwrap her hands from behind his neck and reached for his belt. Too far.

  She hated pulling away from Rick's ministrations, especially when he slid his hand under the elastic of her waistband and brushed against her soft curls, his hand heading slowly southward. Still, she intended to be a full participant in their lovemaking. That meant more than just lying back and letting Rick take care of everything. Maybe later, after say a few hours of passionate sex, she'd let him take over for a while.

  She got an elbow between herself and the bed, then angled herself up.

  Rick gazed at her with an expression so full of desire that she almost cried. How could she be so lucky to be wanted by that this man that any woman would lust after? She fought back the momentary realization that this pleasure would be fleeting. Rick wasn't the kind of man who would settle down and raise kittens and babies. Still, better to have loved and lost.

  Love? Surely her response was a lot simpler than that. It had to be simply lust.

  "Is something wrong?" Rick looked concerned.

  "I told you, you're not naked."

  He grinned. "Want to make something of it?"

  "You bet, sugarplum." She snatched at his belt, puzzled out the clasp, then yanked it off.

  "Sugarplum?"

  "So sue me."

  Rick shook his head. "Call me anything you want. But things aren't even any more. What about your panties?"

  "Anyone ever tell you you talk too much?"

  He looked startled. "Uh, usually they tell me I don't talk enough."

  "Well take a hint." She yanked at his jeans and managed to pull down both the denims and his boxers.

  "Oh." She'd never seen, never even imagined that a man could be so excited. "It's very pretty."

  "Maybe handsome?" he offered. He halfway gasped the words because she grasped his shaft firmly with both hands.

  "You sure you want to argue about this?"

  He shook his head. "Pretty is good."

  "Actually it's very good." Slowly, daringly, she brought her lips to it, kissing the end, then sliding its length into her mouth.

  "Darling." He stroked her hair as she caressed him.

  She pulled her mouth away and looked up at him. "Now I lose my panties."

  "Good." He yanked them down with desperate energy. "You're so beautiful."

  She reached her lips toward him again, but he pulled her back. "I want you now."

  "But--"

  "Now." He slid a finger into her wetness and smiled.

  So she was ready too. It had been a long time since she'd been with a man like Rick. In fact, she'd never been with a man like Rick.

  She was going to make love with Rick. The thought made her shiver. Unfortunately, Rick probably assumed that every woman has already taken care of complications. "I'm afraid--"

  Rick reached into his nightstand for an unopened box of condoms, opened it and pulled one of the packets out. "Is this what you had in mind?"

  She nodded numbly. If he hadn't been prepared, she probably would have let him have his way with her anyway. What was wrong with her? Of all people in the world, the President of the Dallas Cat Rescue League should know the dangers of unprotected sex and unwanted pregnancy.

  Rick's dark eyes burned with a passion she hadn't known she was missing, hadn't dreamed she needed. "Now, Rick. Hurry."

  He slid into her, then kissed her as she nearly cried out. At first he felt like he would split her in two. Within seconds, her body accommodated his size.

  Instinctively he found that rhythm that matched her heartbeat and the pulse of her desire. Jennifer let her hands trail down his back, then to the hard muscles of his rear.

  Rick covered her face with kisses, then shifted his attention back to her breasts.

  "Oh, my." The pressure built up within her, brought her to the edge, then pushed her over.

  "You can stop now," Jennifer told him.

  "Not quite yet."

  Jennifer had always believed that female multiple orgasm was
one of those urban myths, sort of like the guy with the hook at Lover’s Lane. It was always a friend of a friend who experienced them.

  When it happened, it caught her completely by surprise.

  She let out a scream.

  Rick groaned, then exploded inside of her.

  "That was, um, nice," she murmured into his dark hair.

  "Only nice? I guess I'll have to do better this time."

  "You mean next ti… oh."

  Chapter Seven

  Rick rolled over and inhaled a mouthful of hair. He backed away coughing. Had one of Jennifer's cats gotten into his bedroom again?

  It took him a minute to pull himself from a groggy sleep. "Wha--"

  Beside him, Jennifer purred softly, then snuggled closer, her soft breasts yielding against his chest. The memories flowed back. Wow. This was definitely better than a cat.

  "Are you awake?" he whispered.

  "Again?" Jennifer sounded as surprised as he was. He hadn't been this randy since he'd left his teen years behind him.

  He pulled her toward him and pressed his lips against hers.

  An hour or so later Rick struggled out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. Jennifer remained in bed.

  "Want me to keep the water running for you?" he asked. A shower for two sounded romantic even if Jennifer had taken the edge off his desire.

  "Only if you plan on taking a four-hour shower," she groaned. "I hardly slept last night."

  "That wasn't entirely my fault."

  Jennifer rolled over and faked a snore. Within seconds, her breathing became slow and regular.

  The shower stung against two sets of scratches on his shoulder--one kitten-sized, and one that looked more Jennifer-sized. Rick grinned, letting the water beat down on muscles.

  Rick thought of himself as a practical man. He did what had to be done without complaining. One thing for sure, he'd never wasted time dreaming impossible dreams. Now he wondered if he'd just never had the right motivation. His mind kept popping up half-baked plans to make Jennifer a permanent part of his life.

  It was impossible, of course. He was uneducated, self-made. Despite her current financial conditions, Jennifer was an aristocrat. Aristocrats may play with the help--they certainly didn't spend their lives with them. The day she had dumped him in high school, Rick had adopted a simple rule. Enjoy the moment and don't plan for the future. Well, he'd certainly enjoyed the moment last night--about seven times.