Sheer Bliss (3 page)

Chapter Three

After scanning the digital
television guide up and down the spectrum of channels from ABC to
WE, Calla mashed a button and turned the plasma screen black. She’d
had her fill of reality shows and nonsensical celebrity
competitions, and certainly didn’t wish to pass the evening
watching an enhanced stereotype of the people in her home
state.

Nope, no Gym-Tan-Laundry
for me
, she thought with a sad smile, and
padded to the kitchen. Barefooted and clad only in a long, satin
night shirt that barely dusted her knees, Calla refilled her glass
from the bottle of Merlot on the counter. Holding her drink to the
light, she swirled the luscious red liquid to gauge its full body.
As she brought the rim to her nose to savor the dark fruit and
earthy tones, a flash of white streaking across the glass patio
doors caught her attention.

Calla sighed and set down
her wine. What now? Given her home’s location along the residential
area of the shore, few people had reason to skulk along the
backyards.

People, no, Calla
realized. Shifters, however, seemed likely to claim entitlement.
After she had specifically warned Sheila and Lorraine to butt out
of her personal affairs, too, one of them had sent a potential
tutor. Well, time to nip this beast in the bud.

“
Hello?” She slid the
glass door a few inches and poked out her head, then scanned the
breadth of night for her visitor. The lighted corners of the
brick-fenced yard illuminated the hedges and her flower bed, and
beyond the opening to the shore path Calla saw no
movement.

Calla’s face warmed with
embarrassment. Perhaps her mind had tricked her into seeing
something that wasn’t there. As she eased back to return to the
living room, a shadow fell upon the grass and a shape emerged from
the dark recesses of an unlit patch. A sleek wolf, streaked black
with white underbody and socks, trotted toward her and paused at
the first step of Calla’s wooden deck. With a curious cant of the
head, the wolf’s mouth gaped open in what Calla interpreted as a
flirtation.

Calla eased further out to
lean against the jamb, then folded her arms. All these years of
happening upon shifted friends and acquaintances, and she still
hadn’t figured out who was who.

“
Unless you brought some
cheese and crackers to go with my wine, I’m not interested.
Whichever Winston you are,” she said. The further admonishment
still brewing in her head fizzled away, however, as the wolf stood
on hind legs with fur rippling. Soon it disappeared altogether, and
front legs became arms while the hind ones filled out.

Now, standing before
Calla, a naked woman with long brown hair and bright blue eyes
smiled and posed in a provocative manner that emphasized her full
breasts. “Actually, I did bring dessert,” the interloper said, her
voice a near purr in contrast to her canine sensibilities, “though
I wonder if you have the appetite for it.”

Calla laughed—she wanted
to sound haughty and confident, yet her voice spilled out in a
ridiculous schoolgirl giggle. She regarded Maya Winston under a
hooded gaze, her pulse quickening as she took in the lovely women’s
shape. “I thought you were still in Paris,” she said.

Maya shrugged. “Got in
last night, slept late. I meant to call, but when I overheard
Mother’s plans to fix you up with somebody in the pack I decided to
do some damage control.” Maya pouted, pushing out her lower lip in
a teasing manner that made Calla’s body react. “You should thank
me, you know.”

“
For what?” Already ideas
on showing her gratitude formed erotic images in Calla’s mind, more
prominently Calla smoothing her hands over Maya’s luscious breasts
and taking a nipple into her mouth.

Maya stepped closer. Calla
tracked the she-wolf’s movements, particularly how Maya’s bare
pussy disappeared briefly from view when she raised a leg. Her own
pussy throbbed for want.

“
I just came from the pack
house after spending nearly an hour convincing Mother not to do
anything. I told her how you were doing fine on your own and if you
wanted a lover you had the wherewithal to find one on your own in
good time.” By now Maya had come close enough that her hardened,
dark nipples nearly brushed Calla’s night shirt.

“
So,” she said with a
leer, “how goes the search?”

Calla smiled.

* * * *

Still in cat form, Caleb
took to the sand with graceful stealth, staying to the shadows
behind the light posts lining the edge where the sands met the
residential area. Closer to Calla’s beachside home, he caught a
familiar scent in the air—shifter, yet unmistakably female—and
followed it directly to the brick wall that separated Calla’s
property from the public walkway to the sea.

Interesting
, Caleb mused to himself,
and wondered if Calla herself had the ability to give off such a
scent considering her alleged genetic makeup. He hadn’t intended to
come here—he’d originally
started in this
direction to track down Trisha and her friends at The Wall, a
favorite night club situated on the shore. If necessary he could
shift partially—covering all the essential parts—and order the girl
home if she appeared to be having too good of a time to threaten
her betrothal to Malcolm Weaver.

And if I keep telling
myself that, I can justify spying on Calla Savitch as a happy
accident
, he thought as the entranceway to
her backyard came into view. On light paws, Caleb bent low and
crept closer to the wall, picking up bits of conversation drifting
from her porch. He stilled and kept out of view, tuning out the
roar of the ocean behind him.

“
So, how goes the search?”
asked a woman sounding way too sultry to be Calla.

A barking laugh broke the
short moment of silence that followed. “It’s not so much a search
as it is a complete lack of interest.”

“
Cute, Calla.”

Breathless silence
followed. Though curiosity burned through Caleb’s senses, he didn’t
dare raise his head even a centimeter over the top of the wall. He
inhaled the crisp, heady scent of she-wolf and knew immediately the
other voice belonged to a Winston—most likely the uninhibited Maya.
He knew the two women were close, but the direction of their
conversation—coupled with the amorous heat given off by the
shifter—implied to Caleb a more unconventional relationship than
friends might have suspected.

He closed his eyes to
better detect their movements. He heard hands smoothing over skin,
quiet sighs of pleasures, and finally a juicy, smacking
liplock.
Sweet Calla, I hardly knew
ye.
With Maya, of course, he expected a
fondness for both genders—the she-wolf was a self-proclaimed
trisexual.

Try anything
sexual
.

Caleb grinned to himself,
remembering her drunken proclamation at a past Indian Summer Ball.
He then wondered if the breakdown of his fling with Calla all those
years ago precipitated this broadening of his old flame’s sexual
horizons.

Sighs turned to steady
moaning now, and by damn if Caleb didn’t begin to harden in panther
form.
That’s it
, he decided, and shifted to human form.
Given the vibes thrumming from the back porch, Caleb doubted either
woman would spot him peeking.

Still crouched low in the
sand, he bent his fingers over the brick and lifted his head to
skim the yard area. In the glow of porch light, Calla and Maya
stood locked in a tight embrace. Calla, willowy and pale in her
nightshirt, rested one hand on Maya’s bare bottom, kneading the
ample flesh while her other hand cupped a breast. Maya’s hand had
to work as well, though with their position Caleb couldn’t readily
see where the she-wolf touched her…friend. Wherever Maya devoted
that attention, though, Calla appeared to enjoy it. Caleb’s keen
eyesight picked up on the rapid flittering of the woman’s eyelids,
her face twisting with ecstasy as she moved with Maya to deepen and
prolong their kiss.

It seemed to go on
forever, and Maya finally broke free and moved to Calla’s side,
pressing her breasts against the other woman’s shoulder. Here Caleb
made out Calla’s inviting shape underneath the skimpy shift—rock
hard nipples denting the fabric, which dipped at the delta between
her quivering thighs. Unconsciously he grasped the base of his
cock, and his fingers curled around his sac, tugging and massaging
to full arousal.

Maya lifted the hem of
Calla’s short gown high enough to reach the waistband of her
floral-patterned panties. She slipped her hand underneath the slim
triangle—Caleb watched fingers flex and bend as Maya presumably
worked Calla’s pussy and clit to a near-liquid state.

“
Let’s go inside,” he
heard the she-wolf buzz in Calla’s ear. “We can do so much more,
comfortably.”

No sooner were the words
said, though, when Calla’s heavy-lidded expression slowly sobered.
She seemed to awake from a dream and turned to Maya as though
seeing her for the first time. Her hand fell limp from Maya’s
backside and she gently extracted the she-wolf from her private
parts.

“
You are definitely
tempting me tonight,” Calla said, appearing to ignore Maya’s look
of confused disappointment, “but I’m sorry. I’m just not feeling it
right it.”

“
I didn’t get that
impression a second ago,” Maya said accusingly.

Calla, however, just
smiled and offered a chaste kiss to Maya’s nose. “Come by the salon
for a freebie. I’ll make it up to you.” Without another word, she
backed into her house and slid the glass patio door
shut.

“
Calla?” Maya called after
her, but her plea met with the quiet swish of a curtain blocking
her—and Caleb’s—view of Calla’s kitchen. The she-wolf growled and
turned sharply away, storming down the path toward the ocean. “I
doubt it’s the kind of ‘freebie’ I’d want,” she
grumbled.

Still in human form, Caleb
pressed his back to the wall and hoped the aborted seduction
preoccupied Maya enough not to detect his scent. At it was, he
expected her to shift back to wolf form once she hit the beach, and
dash into the dark.

Instead, Maya fulfilled
half his prediction. Not seconds after shifting, those white socks
trotted over the sand to where he hid. Caleb glared uneasily into
bright blue eyes and the best approximation of a canine
grin.

Hello, Caleb.

* * * *

Caleb didn’t waste time
reverting to his panther shape. He found it better to communicate
with other shifters this way, particularly where Winstons were
involved. If claws had to come out, he wanted the
advantage.

Maya
. He stood at
attention, bowing his head only slightly.

How was New
York?

How it usually is, old
and small and dirty. Tell me, Maya,
he canted his head to one
side and scratched one paw in the sand,
had you known I was
here?

Of course,
Maya
said.
I can smell desperation a mile away.

The panther let out a low
growl, the best Caleb could come to an exhausted sigh in this form.
Makes sense,
he conceded,
to know a scent with which
you’re so closely associated.

Fuck you.
Maya
turned to leave.

Hey, I’d gladly offer.
It’s not like Plan A worked out for you.

Oh, I suppose Calla
is
your
Plan A as well?
Maya’s canine head craned back
to face him, teeth bared.
What you saw back there, you’d never
get that close to her again.

Did I say I came here
for Calla? I was on my way to The Wall when I heard a commotion. I
figured I should check it out. I still consider Calla a friend,
despite what she thinks of me
.

Maya didn’t respond
immediately, and Caleb wondered if the she-wolf bought the
lie.

Eventually she let out a
howl and stretched.
Well, as you probably surmised, Calla is
just fine without either of us. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to
seek out more agreeable company for the evening.

Caleb called out to her
retreating form,
You don’t worry about leaving me here with a
clear path to the object of your desire?

Like you have a
chance.
The white socks danced out of sight.

Indeed. What chance did he
have with Calla, who apparently turned away a night of passion with
somebody she didn’t hate? Still, why spurn Maya’s advances? Perhaps
Calla had her fill of women, or maybe she genuinely was tired.
Caleb slunk slowly toward the entranceway to her backyard for a
better view of the house, noting the jagged pattern of darkened and
illuminated windows as Calla presumably shut down for the
night.

The last remaining light
glowed on the second floor—Calla’s bedroom. With the shade rolled
up, Caleb caught glimpses of shadows and skin as the woman moved
about preparing for bed. He knew he should leave, but Calla’s
earlier behavior concerned him. Though the two hardly communicated
since his mating to Teresa, he did truly care for the woman he
called friend, and at one time his lover. He sensed something about
tonight had hurt her, and he couldn’t in good conscience leave
until he knew she was okay.