PrimalDesign (9 page)

“Oh God,” she moaned, her back arching in an offer to him.
“Monk.”

He fucking loved hearing her say his name like that too. To
reward her, he slid one of his hands beneath the gaping material of her shorts
to touch her pussy. With her legs straddling his hips, her sleek lips were
spread open, exposed. And all his.

“Oh yes.” More honey coated his fingers where he skimmed
them over her labia. “Please make me come.”

He could totally do that. He gave her nipple one sharp bite
that made her cry out and sat back. He had to watch this, watch her come apart.
And it was a sight well worth leaving her breasts for.

Kitty’s face was slack with pleasure, her eyes heavy-lidded
as she stared back at him. She didn’t try to close her legs, or try to shy away
from him. No, she arched her back even more, her hands sliding up her torso to
play with her nipples as he fingered her slick sex. Monk glanced down to watch
his hand under the leg of her shorts, the way her thighs tensed as his thumb
found her clit and circled. He glanced up again to study her expressions as he
eased two fingers in her tight pussy, the muscles clamping hard around him.

She had her bottom lip between her teeth, her nostrils
flaring as she sucked in air. Her eyelids fluttered as he set up a fast rhythm,
fucking her hard with his fingers, his thumb circling endlessly. She pinched
her nipples, a cry escaping her as her inner muscles tensed.

“Monk,” she breathed, her hips rocking as she rode his
fingers. “More.” A hiccupping breath. “More, please give me more.”

“I’ll give you anything you want, baby, always.” Hoping she
hadn’t heard the vow in his words or the reverence in his voice, he gave her
three fingers, stretching her pussy. “Fuck, Kitty-Cat, you’re so tight and wet.
You’re soaking my hand.”

“Mm-hmm. Uh-huh, okay.”

He reached over to pull her shorts completely to the side,
watching his fingers tunnel in and out of her pussy. “You’re all pink and
shiny,” he said, his cock leaving a damp spot on the front of his jeans. He was
going to come just from fingering her. “Look at you, all hungry.” He flicked
the edge of his fingernail over her clit. She let out a strangled scream, her
arousal thick in the air. “Are you gonna come for me, Kitty-Cat?”

She rode his fingers faster, her hips bucking in time with
his thrusts. “Yeah, yeah.” A gasping cry. “Yeah! I’m coming.”

But he could already feel her clamping around his fingers,
her tight muscles nearly snapping his bones in half. Awed by her response, he
glanced up to see her mouth open on a silent scream, her eyes wide with shocked
pleasure. Thrusting against her clenching, Monk gave it to her harder, faster,
his fingers searching out that spot that made her lose her mind yesterday. When
he found it, he tapped it once. She jumped. Twice, she squeaked. The third
time, she wailed, her hands leaving her breasts to grab his shoulders as her
entire body shuddered with the force of her orgasm.

It was amazing and heady to know he could bring her that
much pleasure. Sure, his balls felt as if they were going to explode, his cock
ached and the front of his jeans were soaked, but it was a small price to pay
for the sound of Kitty’s cries, which still echoed around the car. She slumped
against him, her breath coming in fits and starts, her body shivering against
him.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand out of her shorts. Her thick
cream glistened on his fingers and he put them in his mouth, purring at her
sharp, sweet taste. “You taste fantastic, baby,” he said around his fingers.

She let out a soft sigh, her body relaxed and sated against
him. His cock still throbbed, but Monk was far too happy with the position they
were in to shift her away. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, cuddling
her close, and listened to her breath evening out as she fell asleep.

Closing his eyes against his raging need, Monk breathed in
the scents of his female, his cougar purring with contentment. This was all
they’d ever wanted. They wanted Kitty and her bear to feel secure enough with
them to let down their guard, to accept them as the ones who would keep them
safe.

* * * * *

“Kitty, we have a problem.”

Frowning at Daisy’s wedding gown, which was almost finished,
Kitty shook her head and adjusted the clip on her ear. “What do you mean, we
have a problem? I thought everything was going well back in New York.”

Margaret Myers, her personal assistant and one of the best
seamstresses Kitty had ever worked with, growled softly. “Someone’s spreading
rumors that KC Designs plans to use fur in its next collection.”

Kitty’s hands fell into her lap in shock. “What?”

“I know! Like shifters would be so crass, but that’s what
the word on the street is. Even worse, I think S.H.A.F.T. is involved. You know
how much they like to take down celebrities.”

“But I’m not using fur. I never would!” Kitty cried as she
clenched her hands together. S.H.A.F.T. stood for Shifters and Humans Against
the Fur Trade and they were one of the biggest anti-fur advocates in the United
States. This was bad. “I’m a shifter, for crying out loud. Why would I want to
use fur when mine could very well make a nice cloak?”

“Shit, I know that, Kitty. I have Stan beating tracks to all
the major newspapers and magazines explaining that we’d never use fur in our
designs, but I needed to warn you what was going on. Just watch your back,
okay?”

“Fuck, Margaret,” she moaned as she bounced her leg up and
down, nervous energy sizzling along her veins. “This could ruin me.”

“I won’t let it ruin you because that means I don’t get a
nice bonus at the end of the year for keeping you on schedule,” Margaret said
firmly. “Now, in other, less earth-shattering news, the bridesmaids’ gowns are
headed your way. You should get them tomorrow along with the shoes we talked
about.”

The conversation drifted to less stressful topics, but Kitty
could barely concentrate on her assistant’s words. After hanging up, she tried
to work on the dress. It was almost complete except for a few finishing
touches. The last couple of weeks had brought her a new clarity she’d directed
toward finishing the two most important dresses for the wedding.
Tante
Claudette’s dress had been finished three days ago and hung up waiting for the
big unveiling.

Daisy’s gown was slowly becoming perfection. The Thai silk
Kitty had chosen was gorgeous, changing colors with the light. The ivory would
be perfect against Daisy’s skin and make her glow, not that she needed much
help, but Kitty was determined to make the best gown of her life for Daisy. It
was her wedding gift to her best friend and cousin. Daisy would love it, but
only if Kitty didn’t manage to fuck it up beforehand by working on it when she
couldn’t focus.

Sighing, she dropped her face in her hands. This was a
nightmare of monstrous proportions. Why someone would slander her in such a
way, she didn’t know. She didn’t have any enemies in the industry that she knew
of, having been very careful to walk a fine line between ruthlessness and
competitiveness. And now, all of a sudden someone was spreading rumors about
her using fur in her upcoming line. Did it help to know Stan, her publicist,
was already on the case? It made her feel a little better, but Kitty knew once
the idea was planted in the public’s mind, they would turn on her like rabid
badgers.

A knock sounded on the door, but it didn’t open. “Hey,
Kitty, we’ll be leaving for the engagement party soon. Are you ready yet?”

Kitty looked around. Shit. She’d forgotten about the
pre-wedding party. “I’m running a little late, I’ll have to go on without
y’all,
Tante
Claudette.”

“Okay.” She paused. “Are you sure I can’t look at the gown?
Just a quick peek?”

The familiar refrain asked in her aunt’s pleading tone
pulled Kitty a little further from the edge of no return in terms of freak
outs. “No, not yet. You get to see the gown on the night of the rehearsal
supper, but not until then.”

Her aunt’s grumbles could be heard through the door, making
Kitty chuckle a little. She carefully arranged the silk so it wouldn’t wrinkle
and put away her supplies. She wasn’t in the mood for a party, not after the
news she’d received, but as the maid of honor, she had to go. Besides, Monk
would be there. Her heart lifted a little higher at the thought.

As Kitty showered and dressed for the party, she couldn’t
get over how much things had changed in the two weeks since she and Monk had
made that truce with each other. They didn’t have sex all the time, although it
was a close thing. Knowing he was her friend once more eased something inside
her, something that made her feel as if she were set free. When she wasn’t
working on Daisy’s gown or
Tante
Claudette’s dress, she spent time with
Monk.

They talked about things not involving their past, or the
shouted confession he’d made about his mother. Kitty wasn’t ready to face that
because every time she thought about Monk’s life ending at his parent’s hands,
she felt sick inside. It was better to keep things light and fun. By unspoken
agreement they left anything touchy alone, instead concentrating on other
things and just having fun together.

It wasn’t always easy being around him, especially if they
happened to run into Nick or Zach, who for some reason Monk seemed to think
wanted her. Neither male showed her the slightest interest when they caught her
alone, but the instant they saw her with Monk, they flirted outrageously with
her. Kitty snorted and applied her makeup. Males were idiots just looking for a
reason to fight and in the last two weeks, Monk had gotten into at least three
fights, not counting the one in the alley.

Kitty slipped into the dress she’d picked from her catalog
for this party and smiled to see it fit a trifle snugger than it had when she
first tried it on. It seemed her
Tante
Claudette’s cooking was putting
the weight on her that she’d lost in New York.
That’ll make Mama happy.
Her mom had come over nearly every single day to visit. She was the only one
besides Monk and Daisy allowed in Kitty’s workroom, something Claudette pouted
about any time they visited.

Francine hadn’t asked if Kitty was staying. She hadn’t asked
how things were going with Monk, probably because she knew if she did, Kitty
would sprint for the nearest airport. Everything should have been perfect and
it had been except for a few minor incidents she hadn’t mentioned to anyone
because she hadn’t wanted to sound like a drama bear.

Stepping into her impossibly high Louboutins, she mused over
the strange feeling of being watched she’d had ever since that day in the alley
with Monk. It never happened when she was with him, only when she was either
taking a quick walk in the woods to clear her head, or when she was headed into
town to see Monk. She suspected she had a reporter on her tail trying to take
snapshots for a tabloid magazine. The problem was each time she had the
feeling, she never caught a scent. It was baffling and she’d chalked it up to a
puffed-up sense of self until now. Because the more Kitty thought about it and
the conversation she had with Margaret, the more she was starting to believe
her watcher was trying to catch her doing something with fur. It made sense
that the press would want proof of her wearing fur so they could plaster it all
over the news.

Dammit.
Kitty finished dressing and grabbed her
clutch. She couldn’t remember if she’d killed anything while on her walks. Most
shifters, when in their animal forms, did a little hunting because it soothed
their beasts. No one thought anything of it. Of course, most of them weren’t
being accused of skinning helpless bunnies and shit in the name of fashion.
Goddammit,
I’m in so much fucking trouble.

She sucked in a calming breath and left her room. She could
handle this. The party tonight would help take her mind off her problems. Monk
would be there and although it was something that would have sent her into a
tizzy weeks ago, now she looked forward to seeing him and spending time with
him. It wasn’t love. It was…friendly affection with a heavy dose of lust.

Snorting at herself, Kitty locked up her aunt’s house and
walked to her rental car. She didn’t love Monk and despite what he’d shouted at
her, he didn’t love her. He hadn’t said it again.
And I’m glad. I don’t want
a messy goodbye when I leave.
Yeah, when she left.
Gah, stop thinking
about it.
She reached for her door handle, the hair on the back of her neck
lifting, and it had nothing to do with her thoughts.

She paused at her car door and looked around her aunt’s
familiar yard. Nothing was out of place, but she had the feeling she was being
watched again. Expanding her senses, she smelled the fresh air and the earthy
scent of the bayou several yards away. Everything appeared normal, yet she
couldn’t shake the sensation of eyes on her. Deciding it had to be an owl or
something, Kitty climbed in the car.

The instant she was in the close confines of the vehicle,
her mind instantly leapt to Monk and her need to go home. Kitty sighed and
started the engine, pulling out of her aunt’s driveway with a heavy heart. She
wasn’t quite ready to go back to New York. It was only because she’d missed
being around her family. Monk played a small part in her reluctance to leave.

God, she was such a bad liar.

It took a conscious effort not to speed into town in an
attempt to escape the thoughts whirling around her brain. Home wasn’t in Maison
Rouge anymore. She’d made a life in New York. It was sometimes lonely, but it
was all hers. She couldn’t just up and leave because of homesickness. Could
she?

Kitty frowned at the empty highway in front of her. There
was no way she was moving back here. This thing with Monk was temporary, just a
little sexual stress relief. Right?