“Such a good kitty,” he murmured, those honey eyes glinting with desire.
Ashton returned, his boots clomping on the floor until he came to a stop near us. He sent Brad a shit-eating grin as he passed him some toys, including a cat wand with a fluffy ball hanging at the end of a string. “We found some. Apparently we were expecting some cats to come along.”
“Thanks, man,” Brad said, his attention diverted to Ashton. I didn’t like it, though; I wanted his attention on me. I hissed, earning me a wide-eyed look from Brad as I scurried forward and swiped at Ashton.
Ashton jumped backward, nearly bumping into another man who was walking by with three beers clutched to his chest. He apologized to the patron before facing his palms toward me. “Yeah, there’s a reason I don’t like cats. See you around, Brad.” He patted Brad on the shoulder, and I glared at his hand. No one touched my temporary Master, not while I was around, but he was gone before I could send another hiss at him.
“Are all cats this possessive?” Brad asked as he swung the cat wand in his hand. There were another three toys lying on the ground in front of his crouching form, including a ball made of rope, a fluffy mouse that had a windup button on its behind, and a triple-layered orb tower. None of them interested me as much as the wand, though. My gaze followed the swaying string and ball as he swung it side to side.
I meowed, reaching forward to swat at it. Brad swished it in the other direction before I could get it. I frowned, eyebrows furrowing, and shuffled closer, attempting to swipe at it. Brad waved it harder and I made a noise of disapproval.
“You’re so cute,” he said, and I had to strain to hear him as the music changed to a harder beat.
Something rolled beside me and I glanced at the ball, letting out an annoyed meow when an overzealous mutt came running toward me. I hissed, striking at the ball, but the dog was already in my personal space, tackling me. Letting out a screech, I kicked at him, my foot landing in his gut. The dog yelped, rolling on his back just as his Master came running toward us.
I scuttled into Brad’s arms, who was already diving forward to get in between us. Burying my face in his neck, I whimpered and meowed in anger.
“Oh man, I’m so sorry!” the dog’s owner said while I assumed he helped his pet up to his feet and probably even patted the idiot’s head.
I glared at them, taking in the dog who looked more like a puppy with big, wide eyes and his tongue lolling out of his mouth. He had ink-black hair, and even through the leather snout he’d strapped onto his face, I could see he was Asian. Shirtless, he wore nothing but a pair of leather chaps with a tail hanging out from between his cheeks. A butt-plug tail, obviously. I had one at home too, but it wasn’t as big or as bushy as the black furred one he had shoved in his hole.
His owner was a handsome man and had light blond hair that hung around his shoulders. He had an unshaved jaw, and a square face with a smile that seemed too nice . There was Brad, who was genuine, then there was this man, who looked at me like he was just trying to be polite when he didn’t want to. He wore jeans, boots, and a plain white T-shirt—nothing fancy.
“Sometimes Kwan gets way too excited when he’s around other pets,” the owner laughed, running a hand over the back of his head. With his other hand he patted the dog. Kwan tilted his head back, the tongue on his mask swishing side to side as he raised his arms to bounce back on his knees and pant eagerly.
I rolled my eyes. Dogs were so stupid.
“I hope he didn’t scare your… cat,” the owner finished, frowning at me as though he didn’t know why I was here.
I glared right back at him. Typical dog owner.
“Erm, I think he’s okay. This is the first night we’re playing together.” Brad chuckled, rising from his crouched position, and ran his fingers through my hair. I purred, leaning up into his touch, but I made sure to keep my eye on the dog and his owner at the same time. You could never trust canines.
I shook myself and licked the top of my hand, wiping it across my chin and face to clean myself. The dog watched me, eyes wide and head tilted curiously. He whined, maybe stupid enough to think I might play with him, but I only huffed in return.
“I’m Mark.” The blond held out his hand and Brad took it, shaking.
“Brad. This is Harley.” He touched my cheek, running his knuckles across my skin. I purred harder, wiggling closer to his thigh.
“Hi, Harley.” Mark leaned forward, but I swiped at him, making him snatch his hand back. Kwan tilted his head from one side to the other, almost like he was confused.
“Uh, he doesn’t really like strangers, I don’t think,” Brad said with another laugh.
Mark nodded, and even though he smiled, it was as fake as the Prada bag my mom bought from a Chinese online site. She liked to pretend it was real, though. “Well, Kwan and I should go. He made some friends on the other side of the room. Bye.”
Mark tugged at Kwan’s powder blue collar and the dog followed with far too much enthusiasm. I snorted. Typical.
“Well, that was interesting.” Brad crouched again and ran his hands down the sides of my face until he scraped his fingernails under my chin. I purred, eyes slipping closed. I fucking loved it when my Master did that. “I’m sorry if he scared you. I didn’t see him coming.”
I didn’t bother opening my eyes, and my dick jumped in my shorts as he lightly dragged his nails over my skin again. I scooted closer and purred harder.
“Would you… would you like to come home with me tonight, Harley?”
My eyes popped open and I blinked at him. I had a firm rule not to rush home with anyone, no matter how yummy or charming he was. I’d had a cat friend do that once and he ended up bruised and beaten by a pair of reckless and unprofessional Doms who’d thought it was fun to mess with a cat. They’d been dog lovers, too, from what I understood of that situation.
I opened my mouth and hesitated. Part of me really wanted to say yes. It’d been too long since I’d had a Master, one who played with me and cared. Brad seemed nice enough, but just because they looked and acted nice didn’t mean they were. My whole life had been about statistics, and the numbers of cats—hell, any kind of sub—being hurt by men who took them home was scary.
“You can call someone, let them know my address if you want,” he whispered, as though reading my mind. He smiled and it warmed my heart. He had a nice mouth. “I won’t hurt you, pretty kitty.”
