Here Kitty, Kitty
© 2007 Shelly Laurenston
Available Now from Samhain Publishing
Nikolai Vorislav likes his single life just as it is. Simple, relaxing and quiet. What he doesn’t need is some foul-mouthed Texan hellcat living in his house, eating his food, flirting with his idiot brothers and shooting holes in his home with his granddaddy’s gun. But those long legs, dark eyes and lethal tongue are making Nik insane and he fears he may be caught in the sexiest animal trap ever.
Angelina Santiago doesn’t know how she got from Texas to North Carolina in a night or how she ended up in some hillbilly tiger’s house wearing only a sheet. What she does know is that she doesn’t like good ol’ boys with slow, sexy drawls who can’t seem to stop rubbing up against her. Yet in order to protect her friends, Angie has to stay with a cat who seems hellbent on finding all sorts of delicious ways to make her purr.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Here Kitty, Kitty:
A soft knock at the door almost had her diving out the window.
“Angie, sugar. Open the door.”
She almost screamed, “Are you fuckin’ nuts?” But, instead, she took another shaky deep breath, and pulled the door open.
The hillbilly stood there, a brown blanket wrapped around his hips.
“Can I come in?”
She was staying in his house and he was asking her if he could come in.
Only in the South.
Angie nodded, not sure if she could create an intelligent sentence if she decided to speak, and stepped away from the door. She went and sat down on her bed, then jumped back up again.
Sitting on bed…not good.
Nik closed the door and slowly walked over to her. When she stepped back, he stopped.
She finally spoke, unable to hold it in any longer. “In less than twenty-four hours, your mother has seen me break a man’s nose, hit him with a chair, and molest her son. No, I’m not okay.”
Grinning, Nik took a step toward her. She jumped back, slamming into the bed. She held her arm up. “Stay!”
He laughed. “Aw, sugar. That only works with dogs.” Then he was right there. Right in front of her. She put her hands down at her sides to prevent herself from rubbing that amazing body all over.
“It’s not a big deal. Really. My momma don’t care.”
“I do. That woman probably thinks I’m a whore. A dangerous, psychotic whore.”
“Naw. Daddy has twenty-eight stitches where Momma mauled him one time. Trust me. In my family, this is nothin’.”
He couldn’t believe how beautiful this woman was. She wore no makeup, her thick hair still damp and tangled from their roll on the floor, her clothes a simple T-shirt and shorts. Yet to him she was ten times more beautiful than she had been the night before when she’d gotten all fancy. At some point, he’d tell her never to wear makeup again. She didn’t need it. It actually stole some of her natural beauty. And she was a natural.
One of his hands held the blanket. The other reached up to touch her face. She took another step back. Or, at least, she tried to. But the bed got in her way.
Nik waited until she stopped moving, and he lightly touched her cheek. To his surprise, she didn’t swat him away this time. Instead, she closed her eyes and made that sexy little whimpering sound.
“Okay.” Her eyes snapped open and focused on him. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Get what over with?”
“You. Me. Let’s just fuck and get it over with.”
She had to be the most entertaining female he’d ever met in his damn life. Where the hell had she been hidin’? Were all the women in Texas like this?
“Look, hillbilly, I want you. You want me. Let’s just bang this out and go on about our day.”
Nik shook his head slowly. “No.”
She frowned, then nodded in understanding. “I see. You don’t want me.”
“Sugar, you must be kidding.” He grabbed her hand and wrapped it around his cock, the blanket the only thing between them. “Feel that? You did that. You keep doin’ that to me.”
“Oh.” She stared down at where her hand connected with his body. Then those beautiful brown eyes snapped up to his. “So what’s the problem?”
“There will be no banging out anything.” He stepped even closer to her. “When we do this—and we will do this—I don’t plan to rush a goddamn thing. We’re not something to ‘get over with’.”
She stared up at him, brown eyes wide, “We’re not?”
Since she seemed quite content to keep a healthy hold on his growing erection, he moved his hand back up to her cheek. He brushed the smooth skin with the tips of his fingers—and she let him.
“Nope. We’re not. We’re going to take this slow and easy, sugar.”
He pressed his body against hers, her hand caught between them. “Oh, yeah. We are.”
And she meant it. She had no idea why he wouldn’t just throw her down on the bed, come, and go on about his day. That Nik had no intention of rushing anything where Angelina Santiago was concerned. This was a woman you savored. Enjoyed. Fucked. Hard, long, and as often as possible.
No. She’d have to forget about “banging out” anything.
He had other plans. Bigger plans. And they all involved her coming all over him.
“Because, sugar—you make me purr.”
She had men say many things to her over the years. Some nice. Some sweet. Some thoroughly disgusting. But no one had ever told her she made them purr. And she never knew it would have the kind of effect on her it did.
Angie wrapped her hand tight around his cock and squeezed. Nik closed his eyes, leaning down until his forehead rested against hers.
“Damn, darlin’. That was plain mean.”
“I don’t like to wait, hillbilly.” She really wanted to beg. She wanted to scream, “Please don’t make me wait!”
But, dammit, a girl had her pride. Didn’t she?
He smiled, even though she got the feeling she might be killing him. “But you’re gonna wait.” And it was an order. A delicious order she felt all the way to her toes. “You’ll wait for me.”
In the big scheme of things, it wasn’t like she really had a choice.
He chuckled, his free hand playing along the bottom edge of her T-shirt. The air changed around them. Going from playful to serious in a heartbeat. He tugged on the shirt.
“Pull your shirt up.”
Normally, she’d ask what the fuck for. But they both knew that wasn’t going to happen now.
Unwilling to release his cock anytime soon, she gripped the end of her shirt with her free hand and brought it up over her breasts. She’d never had time to fix her bra, so they were bare, the nipples hard.
Nik tucked the blanket he wore into itself, so that it stayed on his hips. Then he took both his hands and ran them up her ribcage, his fingers gliding along her flesh.
Nik’s big fingers circled her breasts and both she and Nik let out a shuddering breath. She no longer found his hands on her annoying. Not in the least. She had the distinct feeling she could easily get used to this. Used to him touching her, fondling her, making her squirm.
He gripped each of her nipples between thumb and forefinger. Her squirming intensified, the ball of her right foot pushing into the floor.
He rubbed his lips against hers, but he didn’t kiss her. She wondered if he was afraid to. Afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop.
With a deep sigh, he released her breasts, and grabbed hold of her bra. Gently, he re-hooked the lace over her, took the T-shirt from her hand and pulled it back down. He still had his forehead against hers and she watched him struggle with his decision to pull away.
Finally, and with obvious reluctance, he stepped back, unwrapping her fingers from his hard cock.
“We’re not doin’ this now.” He brought her hand to his mouth, turned it over and kissed the inside of her wrist, right below her palm. He ran his tongue along the veins. Once he had her squirming again, he stopped.
“Slow and easy, sugar. That’s what the South is all about.”
“I’m beginning to hate the South.”