A Lost Kitten (14 page)

“No!” he cried out. “Don’t stop.” He lifted his mouth in a pleading gesture to where he believed her lips were. “I need you. I’ve missed you.”

Her mouth returned. Her fingers wrapped firmly around his arousal. John bucked in Jasira’s hand and growled. Her hand moved slowly at first. John thought he was going to explode from the pure ecstasy of her touch. The fire Jasira started weeks ago erupted in his core. His eyes ignited. John roared from its intensity. His head dropped backward, over the tub. His legs fell apart, urging Jasira for more. His entire focus was on Jasira’s hand, not on his claws extending while he held the tub’s edge.

“Jasira,” he called out to her. His hips moved against her hand. “More. Don’t stop.”

Jasira gave John what he wanted. Her left hand explored his chest, arms, and stomach. Her right hand continued to rise and lower. John growled. Her touch was better than he remembered.

“Kiss me.” His lips reached up to hers. “I need to taste you.” Jasira complied with a need that matched his own.

John’s soul was ablaze. It scorched him from the inside out. He never felt such intense heat, such passion, such need. It was mind-boggling. It consumed him. He could think of nothing else. There was nothing except Jasira and the way she made him feel.

She gripped him tighter. John desperately clung to the tub. Her hand moved faster. The sizzling energy in him soared higher. John could not take much more. His mutant form made him too sensitive. He broke their kiss, needing to breath.

“Jasira!” John lifted his hips off the bottom of the tub. “Faster!” His head fell back as Jasira obeyed. His eyes grew brighter. His core exploded. An electrifying energy blast shot throughout John’s body. With a mighty roar, he erupted.

Jasira landed on her rump. Dazed, she remained there for several seconds. She did not understand what had happened. One minute she was pleasing her kindred soul, the next it felt like a thousand volts shot through her hands, up her arms, and into her core.

She gasped and jumped to her knees. John’s face was tilted upward. His eyes closed. He was not moving. She tapped his face. He was unresponsive. What happened? What was the electricity she felt? Why had John lost consciousness?

She tapped his cheek some more. No use. He was not waking up. Jasira studied John’s face. He seemed at peace. Maybe it was supposed to happen this way. Maybe he was weaker than usual because he was ill. Concluding that was it, Jasira decided to leave. It was late and John apparently needed his sleep. She kissed his lips and left.

John awoke the following morning with a smile on his face. Despite sleeping in a cramp tub, he felt rested. His soul’s anguish seemed lessened. He opened his eyes and looked around. The room was empty. The fire had long ago died in the hearth. He used his supernatural senses to scan the room. They confirmed what his eyes saw. Nothing.

His brows drew together. Was it all a dream? He sat up. Did Jasira enter his room last night? He glanced at the water. His enhanced eyesight noticed something odd. He swirled the water slightly. A milky substance streaked the water. It was no dream.

John grabbed the soap, then hesitated at a thought.
Unless
… He shook the thought out of his mind and started washing. He was ten the last time he’d had a wet dream; it was before his first mating experience. Jasira had entered his room and sent his soul soaring to the heavens with her touch. His smile grew as he started to remember.

At breakfast, reality started to sink in. John’s embarrassment increased. He could not look anyone in the eyes. He locked himself in his room afterward, asking for his lunch to be sent to his room. By dinnertime, he felt mortified.

What was he thinking? Was he that sexually frustrated that he would turn to a ghost for mating? Was he that mentally gone that he found a spirit more satisfying than a real woman?

John leaned on the window frame with his arms crossed. He stared out the window, to the left. He could see the schoolhouse in the distance. Jasira’s little house was a few feet away from it.

There was no doubt about it. Jasira pleased John’s soul like no other. The climax he had experienced was earth shattering. John had heard felines speaking of similar orgasms. However, they were talking about the fusing of their souls with their mates’. John’s experience was not the same, though it sure felt like it.

John rubbed his face with both hands. His family would think he was crazy for allowing it to happen. They would place him in a nuthouse if they knew how much he enjoyed it, or how much he wished Jasira was with him now. He exhaled and crossed his arms. It was crazy. It could not happen again. His heart spasmed. His soul cried in protest. He
was
crazy.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he said. He stayed by the window, staring at Jasira’s house.

Dena and five others entered with buckets of hot water and his dinner. John ignored them, along with Dena’s side-glances.

As soon as the bath was ready, the men exited the room. Dena stopped next to John.

“John, your bath is ready.”

“Thanks,” he answered, distracted.

“You need to take your medicine, and your dinner is getting cold.”

“Leave them there,” he replied, without glancing her way. “Goodnight.”

“John—”

“Goodnight,” he said more firmly.

Dena sighed and left the room. John was left with his thoughts.

The following day was Monday. John waited until school ended to exit the castle. With determined steps, he headed to Jasira’s house. He would tell her it could never happen again.

He felt a sharp pain in his heart. He coughed. Each time he thought of ending what had barely begun, it was the same. His heart would hurt. His soul would resist. John ignored them both. He hated feeling like a cheating dog. He refused to be a horny one also. He would end it, and that was that.

John knocked on Jasira’s door. A bout of coughing assaulted him. It lasted longer than the last time. Dena’s cold remedies were not working; his chest cold was getting worse. He had awoken several times during the night, gasping for air. He was struggling with breathing underwater. He had to shake the cold or he would die.

The door opened. He could not catch his breath to say hello. When his cough finally ended, John was dizzy. He braced himself on the doorframe and groaned.

Jasira’s warm touch on his cheek and forehead helped ease his suffering. “Shoot me and put me out of my misery,” he moaned.

John sensed Jasira moving away. He clamped his lips on his protest. He saw one of the chairs at the dining table being pulled out. He understood.

He entered the home and closed the door. “Thanks.”

John sat in the chair. He closed his eyes and absorbed the heat that filled the home. It made its way beneath his layers of clothing, through his skin, and into his bones. His shivers slowly ceased.

His senses refused to release Jasira from their hold. They followed her around the kitchen. Though he could not see her, John knew what she was doing. Cups and bowls drifted from cabinets. Spoons levitated from drawers. He gritted his teeth. They were the supplies the king had sent for him. Why did Jasira keep them? She had no need for them. Had she hoped he would return? John suppressed the hope that sparked in his heart.

Jasira placed a hot, steaming bowl of what looked like oatmeal in front of John.

“Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”

The bowl inched closer to him.

“Really, I’m not all that hungry.”

The spoon lifted in the air and floated in his face.

“Jasira…”

The spoon dipped into the bowl, scooping some oatmeal. It rose to inches from John’s mouth.

John did not want to insult her, so he ate it. His brows lifted high. “Mmmm. That’s good.” He took the spoon Jasira offered him and ate on his own. The oatmeal’s warmth helped to chase the cold from his core faster.

John’s eyes and senses followed Jasira while she boiled a kettle of water. It was the same teapot Yudit had sent John. He saw a small box from one of the cabinets float to the kettle. He did not recognize the box. Jasira sprinkled some dark herbs into the water. Her energy force remained by the teakettle until it whistled. Jasira reached for a mug and filled it with the boiling tea. She placed the herbal drink beside John’s bowl.

John eyed it suspiciously. It was a reddish-brown color and smelled foul. He swallowed his oatmeal. “Okay, I mean no insult, but what is that?”

He could not see Jasira twisting her lips in thought. How were they going to communicate with each other?

“Okay, how about this? Since I’m full of questions, why don’t you tap once for
yes
and twice for
no
. How’s that?”

There was one tap on his shoulder.

He nodded. “This is some sort of herbal tea, right?

One tap.

“Is it a regular herbal tea?”

Two taps.

John frowned. “It’s not.” He looked inside the mug. He sniffed it. “Am I supposed to drink it?” The idea repulsed him.

One tap.

“Not if I don’t know what it is.”

Her hand rubbed his chest.

John thought for a moment. “My chest? You mean this is for my chest cold?”

One tap.

“Ohhh, so this is medicine tea.”

One tap.

He smiled. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to. Dena’s been giving me medicine for two weeks.” His head tilted to one side. “Granted, it hasn’t helped.”

Jasira lifted the mug and lowered it. She then rubbed his chest.

John’s face expressed confusion. “What do you mean?”

She repeated the motions.

“Are you trying to tell me that this tea will work?”

One tap.

“I doubt it, Jasira. I’m not a Surrealan. I don’t think my body chemistry responds to your medicines. Dena assured me her medicine would work. It was passed down through her family for generations. And I feel worse now than before.”

The mug rose to his lips.

John stared at it. He looked up to where his senses told him Jasira was standing. “Are you normally this pushy?”

One tap.

He chuckled, taking the mug from her hand. “All right, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll drink it.” John took a sip. “Yuck! That’s horrible.” He placed the mug far away from him. “I can’t drink that.”

The mug floated up to his nose.

“Jasira, I don’t want to offend you, but that tea is the worst thing I’ve ever tasted. It makes Dena’s medicine taste like candy.”

She rubbed his chest.

“I don’t care if it is for my cold. I don’t want it.”

Her hand touched his forehead.

“Yes, I know I have a fever. I have aches and pains, too.” He started coughing. He pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose. “Why do you think I asked you to shoot me?”

Jasira held the mug to him. John clamped his lips together and shook his head. She kissed his forehead. His heart skipped a beat.

“What was that for?”

Jasira placed the mug down and took his empty bowl. John felt a tongue pass over his lips. He stopped breathing. Jasira left his side carrying the bowl. John gasped for air. He licked his lips.

“You…you didn’t answer my question. Why did you kiss me?”

Jasira displayed the bowl to him before placing it in the wash bucket.

“You kissed me because I finished my food?” He waited for her to return to his side.

Jasira tapped him once. She inched the mug closer to him.

John licked his lips and swallowed. “What do I get if I take my medicine?” His senses followed Jasira as she neared his face.

She outlined his lips with her tongue. John growled. He was supposed to break it off. Instead, Jasira’s tongue made his blood rush to his groins. Jasira lifted the mug to him. John took the mug and gulped the horrid liquid. It was a vile, bitter drink.

He lowered the mug and grimaced up at her. “I finished,” he managed to get out. He coughed once and shivered.

A napkin rose to wipe his mouth. He felt a tug on his jacket. John’s gaze lowered. He watched the buttons slip through their holes. He gulped. His heart rate accelerated. The material parted. He shifted in his seat so she could slip the jacket off his shoulders. She carried it to the rocker.

Next, Jasira removed two of John’s shirts. His body trembled profusely. John stopped her when he sensed a pull on his boots. He removed them himself. Jasira placed them beside the door. John felt her nearing. He knew his pants were next. His hands shook with the excitement she made him feel, so he hid them behind his back.

Jasira caressed John’s cheek and neck. Her hand traveled downward across his chest and stomach. His hands closed into tight fists. Her fingers outlined his faint need.

The heat John felt rushed to his cheeks. He bashfully explained, “I was freezing. I have two pairs of pants on.”

He heard the zipper of his first pair open unexpectedly. His eyes grew at her eagerness. Jasira already had him burning up, and he was still dressed. John wondered if she could make him feel as wonderful as she had the other day. He was not submerged in water this time.

Jasira parted the material and gave it a light tug. John snapped out of his fantasy. “I’m sorry.” He jumped up and removed his first pair of pants. Unsure if he should remove the second pair, he sat back down, leaving them on.