A muscle-tensing sense of impending crisis zipped from the roots of Caitlin’s kinky hair all the way down to her size-nine feet. “Definitely the worst of times.”
Cassie Kramer had the truest heart in the world, but her impulsive approach to life had left Caitlin in the mop-up and rescue position more than once during the course of their friendship. It looked as if today would be no different. She picked up Cassie’s note.
Her roommate’s handwriting was as flowery as the colorful daisies on the paper, and had been punctuated by a series of smiley faces. “Sorry about the rent check.” A frowny face added its own apology. Caitlin picked up the envelope she’d addressed before going to her father’s. Dropping their rent into the mailbox had been a simple enough request—one her scatterbrained roommate had somehow overlooked. But Caitlin would take care of it. With the leeway granted by their landlord, she could still get it to him by the fifth of the month.
Caitlin read on.
“I know the place is a mess, too. But I got tied up, so to speak.” Smiley face. “Tim and I discovered that panty hose will do the trick.” Another smiley face and two exclamation points.
Caitlin looked up and frowned. “Who’s Tim?” Despite her roomie’s diminutive height, she was generously proportioned and had a flirty, outgoing personality that men found irresistible. She was small and feminine and spontaneous, and men with sex and fun and adventure on their minds flocked to her.
Caitlin attracted a different sort. Standing nearly six feet tall in her bare feet, she found that a decent pair of heels left her towering over most men. Adding in the three bad-ass marines she called family, who loved her a little too well, didn’t help set the mood for potential lovers.
And then there was the problem of being boring to contend with.
Virginia Is for Lovers.
Her home state’s old tourism slogan mocked her. Maybe if she was Cassie Kramer…
Cassie could hang out until closing time at smoky bars on dance night and have her pick of the litter of available men. Caitlin could last an hour, maybe two, before her eyes stung and her lungs congested. There was nothing quite like hacking up phlegm to keep a man from asking her to dance.
Or to do anything else.
She was doomed to late nights at the library, with its purified air and rarefied patrons. While she loved her books, the fiction stacks just didn’t draw the kind of men Caitlin wanted to meet. There’d been a few nice ones there—graduate students, retirees, Jimmy the bachelor librarian.
But not one of them looked the part of the disreputable beast from her favorite fairy tale. Not one bore an air that even hinted at danger. They were all charming and sweet and courteous—and stuck in the same drudgery-filled life that Caitlin was.
Lucky Cassie. Damn lucky.
Caitlin read on. Cassie’s note might well be the most interesting part of her evening.
“Will you be a dear and give my note to Sean?”
She shook her head, wishing she could keep up with her roomie’s love life. “Who’s Sean?”
“He’s coming by tonight to pick me up—he called about some sort of weekend get-together. I thought I could go, but I can’t. I tried to call back but couldn’t reach him. It was sort of a mercy date, anyway. He’s a friend of a friend, you know?”
Caitlin chastised the piece of paper in lieu of her impulsive friend. “You could have just said no.”
“I’d apologize in person, but Tim came by unannounced and surprised me with a four-day trip to D.C. We might actually leave the hotel and see some of the sights!” Three smiley faces. One of them winked.
“You’ll take care of it, won’t you? Thanks. See you Monday. Cassie.”
At the last smiley face, Caitlin’s frown deepened. “You get a weekend of adventure in the big city and I get to be the Wicked Witch of the West to your mercy date?”
She picked up the Dear John note, hoping Cassie’s explanation would make everything clear to the hapless Sean, who thought he had a date tonight. Minus the smiley faces, this note was even more brief.
Sean—
Sorry to leave you in the lurch like this, but something came up.
Take care,
Cassie
“That helps a lot.” Caitlin’s sarcasm echoed in the foyer.
Cleaning house and breaking the bad news to mercy dates. Just the way she wanted to spend her Thursday night. She could feel the excitement oozing from her pores.
Resigning herself to her lackluster fate, she set the notes on the table, carried the plate to the kitchen, then went into her room to change into grubby clothes. With nothing more exciting than housework and paying the rent to look forward to, she entertained herself by making a big production of getting dressed.
Stripped to her bra and panties, she opened her closet and curtsied to the long dress hanging on the door. “Yes, my lord. I’ll go with you.” She pulled a hand-me-down T-shirt off a hanger and waved at the rest of the clothes. “Goodbye, Papa. I will go with this vile beast if it means keeping you and my family safe.” She pulled on the shirt and bowed her head to the long dress. “Lead on, Sir Beast.”
Caitlin waltzed to the bed. “Oh, no, sir, you mustn’t.”
She muttered the patronizing protest, then threw herself, spread-eagled, onto the bed. “My reputation, sir. I can never be yours. Well, maybe this once.” In a fit of coy giggles she rolled onto her side, reaching for the full-length body pillow she slept with. She hugged it tight against her breasts and squeezed it between her thighs.
As she closed her eyes and kissed the back of her hand, the beast who was her captor took shape in her mind. A big, tawny, catlike creature. Something more than a man, something less than handsome. Virile and uncivilized, rough and rugged—the veneer of his princely rank stripped away to reveal his animalistic need. His hands and mouth would touch, kiss and stroke her into surrender.
Caitlin rolled atop the pillow, increasing the pressure to the sensitive endings of her breasts and clitoris. She arched her back above her faceless captor and stroked her fingers along her neck, purring in response to the pretend touch of her beastly lover. She clutched at his imaginary mane of golden hair and ground her hips into the pillow. A tingling sensation fluttered between her legs and she reached for the culmination of this fantasy seduction.
He was so big. So dangerous. So bad.
And he was hers.
“Take me,” she begged, rolling onto her back and letting the pillow fall over her—the way her fantasy lover would fall down and consume her.
Caitlin tightened her thigh muscles and stretched her toes, urging her own release. Almost…just about…
The headboard rattled with the force of her kick. “Ow!”
An assortment of other choice words filled the air as the fantasy vanished and the throbbing pain in her little toe took over. Caitlin tossed aside the pillow and sat up to rub her foot.
“Perfect timing,” she moaned, feeling cheated of her happy ending.
The pain in her toe eased along with the desire for her fantasy lover. Someday, she wanted the real thing. She wanted to know what it would be like to come when a man touched her. Her sexual encounters thus far had been remarkably limited, and had never quite lived up to her fantasies.
Maybe because she’d never run across one of those bad boys she craved.
Maybe because her father and brothers scared off anyone truly interesting.
Maybe