No… purr-fect?
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX
WILDER
The quickest way tokill a hard-on? A fat-ass, fluffy cat staring directly into your fucking soul.
Five seconds more, and I would’ve ripped these tiny little panties off Maisie and finally, fuckingfinallytasted her, right here on the floor of her kitchen while she’s wearing that ruffled pink apron.
Except that damn cat chose right at this moment to flop over onto his back, his fat stomach on display on the floor right beside us, staring up at me and demanding belly scratches.
I just got cockblocked by a fuckingcat.
“Stop laughing,” I grunt as I carry Maisie toward her bedroom, fully intending on making good on the plans that were just interrupted.
“I’m sorry! I…” she says through cute little giggles that make me want to stuff her mouth full of my cock. “He’s just… needy, that’s all.”
Annoying, that’s what he is.
I’m not a cat person, and I willneverbe a cat person. Even if he belongs to the one person I can tolerate being around.
The one person I… want to be around.
Who I kind of like spending time with.
I stop in front of the room she led me to and shake my head at the curtain of bright, colorful beads that fills the doorframe. The kind that you have to walk through to enter, like you’re stepping through a waterfall or some shit…
The inside of her bedroom is a lot like the rest of her apartment, full of mismatched furniture, colorful paintings and pictures lining the walls, cream-colored wallpaper with flowers.
There are stacks of books scattered on every surface. The purple table next to her bed, along the wall, on her desk, the overflowing bookshelves lining the opposite wall.
Most, from what I can see, are the Fabio-esque covers like the one I caught her reading that day outside my office. A lot of them have colorful-looking squares peeking out of the pages, and my interest is piqued.
I deposit Maisie onto her bed, and she sits back on her knees with the hint of a smirk on her lips. “I can practically feel your judgment from here.”
“Didn’t realize how much you liked to read.”
Her cheeks flush, and she shrugs, eyes dragging over the stacks of books before returning to mine. “Yeah, I guess it’s kind of my thing.”
“That where you like to read them at?” I nod toward the oversized velvet chair in the corner that looks like it came off the set ofThat ’70s Show. It’s covered in pillows and fluffy blankets, and I can practically see her there, curled up with a book and that damn cat.
“Yes. Mostly. I mean, I read anywhere, but it’s my favorite place to read.”
I walk over to the stacks and pick up one that sits on the top. It’s got a couple wearing period clothes, tangled up together in what looks like the throes of passion, and I find myself grinning when I think of her reading this.
My good girl. Innocent. A fucking virgin until me.
Before I can open it to scan the pages, she’s in front of me, ripping it out of my hands and hiding it behind her back.
“Uh, no.”
My gaze flicks to her red-stained cheeks and the flush that’s traveling down her neck onto her chest.
Is she… embarrassed?
“Why not?”
