I watch, mesmerized, as she pulls her dress up and off, hangs it carefully on a hanger, and puts that on a hook by the door.
The place is cluttered but really neat. Everything seems to have a spot.
Pepe pushes his face harder into my hand, and I rub the side of his neck. “Never had a cat.”
“Any pets?”
“No. I moved too much.” And I really don’t want to talk about it. “Can I get up?”
“With a cat in your lap? Never.”
I look down at the creature who has literally taken over my entire body. “I can just… push him off.”
“Against the rules.”
“What rules?”
“Cat rules.”
“Cat rules?”
“Yep. Cat rules are not the same as human rules. For example: cat on lap? Can’t move. You are out of play for the foreseeable future.”
“That’s ridiculous. What if you have a job to go to?”
“Call in sick.”
I snort. “What are other cat rules?”
“Are you allergic?”
I shake my head.
“A cat will always go to the allergic person in the room. Cat rule.”
“What else?” I ask, my voice as light as I can make it while watching this beautiful woman wipe makeup from her face, each swipe revealing glowing skin, covered in more freckles than I’d even guessed at. “More ridiculous rules?”
She yawns and the sound sends a shower of sparks down my spine, and I’ve got no idea why that would happen. There’s nothing sexy about a yawn. Except with Rae… there kind of is.
“Hey, I’m not the one who makes the rules.” She walks over to the boiling kettle, grabs a teapot, and fills it. “I just enforce them.”
“Tell me about tonight.”
“You mean the Paint and Sip Orgasmathon.”
I grin. “Yes. I want details.”
“Give me a sec, and I’ll tell you all about it.” She disappears again into the bathroom.
I shut my heavy eyes for just a few seconds and settle deeper into the very comfortable armchair, hands sinking into soft, warm fur. I smile at how cute Rae is. Laugh at how she manages to twirl between her bed and her kitchen in such a small space. Feels so good here. With her…
Something wakes me up with a start.
Oh shit. My neck hurts. What the hell?
Groggy, I look around, taking in unfamiliar shapes.
A pair of tiny bright slits reflects the dim light coming in from the only window in the place.
