Cats Meow (3 page)

“Fuck,” she grumbled, frustrated beyond her
normal restraint, reduced to cursing. “You bastard!”

“What, sweet baby?” he teased. “What do you
need? Tell me, Becca.”

Inhibitions be damned, her need to orgasm
was far greater than any sense of propriety. If he wanted specifics, she’d give
him explicit, in-your-face instructions.

“Suck my clit. Flick your tongue over it,
fast. Fuck me with your fingers, hard. Three of them. And don’t stop ‘til I
come.”

Holy shit. Where had that come from?
She was a completely different woman with him. Bold and brazen.
Daring and free. And damn if she didn’t like the new her.

While Micah may be all dominant alpha male,
he was pretty damn good at following instructions. He held her clit captive
between his teeth, his tongue flicking against the tip and his lips exerting
glorious suction. At the same time, two thick fingers powered into her pussy.
He twisted his wrist, added a third finger and homed in on the perfect spot
where the stroke of his fingertips drove her wild.

Rebecca bucked, fucked his face, muttered
incoherent praise. Her entire body tensed to the point only her heels and
shoulder blades remained in contact with the mattress. Micah mumbled something,
creating amazing vibrations that tore through her pelvis. She strained, grabbed
for the prize, screaming his name as overwhelming pleasure exploded,
ricocheting from one nerve ending to the next.

He didn’t let her down. Micah kept the
devastating sensations rolling, building the pressure until all she could do
was surrender to the ecstasy. Dazed, she lost count of how many times she came,
each peak higher than the last. And when she thought she could take no more, he
proved her wrong. Repeatedly.

He gave her no chance to recover. Micah
rolled on a condom, aligned his cock with her pussy and slammed forward. He
filled her in one great thrust—stretched tender tissues to new limits—reached
previously concealed and ignored pleasure centers. She felt full, whole.
Blissed out beyond belief.

He took her hard and fast, then slow and
deep, constantly changing the tempo. Just barely coming down from one peak he
built her back up until she lost all concept of anything other than him.
Finally, Micah brought her to one last stunning crest and followed in her wake.

They collapsed in total exhaustion and
satiation only to wake a short time later. The slightest touch was all it took
to reignite the passion and start all over again. He fucked her from behind
then changed position so they both lay on their sides.

The next time she woke up he was carrying
her to the bathroom. She’d never had shower sex but soapy bodies sure made for
devilish fun. Hands sliding over sensitized skin. Slippery bodies moving in
sync. It blew her mind.

For a magnificent finale, she took control
and told Micah what she wanted. She got a heady rush from directing their play.
She straddled his hips and rode his cock as if she were a rodeo queen, feeling
powerful, sexy and beautiful in Micah’s arms. He set her free and helped her to
fly.

If only the night could last forever and
they didn’t have to return to their real lives in the morning.

* * * * *

Rebecca woke in the predawn hours held
tight against the curve of Micah’s body. One heavy arm was slung possessively
over her waist, shackling her. Devastating her emotions. The sheets were
tangled around them and the room reeked of hot and sweaty sex.

She wanted to stay with him. But she
couldn’t. Rebecca wasn’t stupid. She knew the score. One-night stands did not
turn into relationships. Unconscious loving behaviors displayed while asleep
didn’t equate to true sentiment. He appeared to have laid claim to her, but it
wouldn’t stand up to the light of day.

The night had been out of character for
her. They were opposites and while opposites attract, they also repel. Micah
was a man of action, the kind of guy who wouldn’t go for long-term
relationships. If he did, he would go for beautiful arm candy, not a socially
inept science nerd.

She didn’t do casual sex, with this night
being her one exception to the rule. When she picked a man for the long haul,
it would be someone with similar interests. Even though she’d been assertive in
bed, she didn’t have enough confidence in herself as a woman to believe she
could hold the interest of a man like him.

Quiet as a mouse, she slipped from the bed,
trying not to moan over all the aches and pains in muscles that had never
received such a vigorous workout. He reached out and a pang of regret pierced
her heart. If only they could form a lasting bond from their very brief time
together.

The realist in Rebecca shook off the
destructive thoughts. Lust and mind-blowing sex did not equate to love.

She had to fight not to giggle upon
spotting the numerous discarded condom wrappers littering the floor. They’d
made some great memories. Ones she’d cherish and hold close on cold nights.

Dressing in the rumpled clothes, feeling
sticky and longing for another shower, she brushed a light kiss across his
forehead. Then Rebecca did what had to be done. She walked away, closing the
door on one of the most exciting chapters in her life.

Chapter Three

“Not yet. Wait for it,” Micah instructed.

Rubbing at his temples, he struggled to
concentrate on his job and clear the erotic images from his mind. Two weeks had
passed since his night in Asheville. Fourteen hellish days of torment. More
than twenty-thousand minutes—not one of them free from thoughts of her. She
filled his mind every moment while awake and invaded his dreams when he managed
to sleep.

Dr. Rebecca Southerby, the one who’d gotten
away. Not that he was unable to go after her. Finding her had been child’s
play. He knew where she lived, worked and spent her free time. He knew lots of
facts and figures but longed to know her more intimately. Investigating her
background was part of his job since she’d applied for a position at Nanotech
Industries, the company where he worked as head of security. Strong work ethics
had kept him from using what he’d learned to contact her.

“Hold your positions,” Micah ordered. “He
has to leave the building or the charges won’t stick.”

“Suspect’s reached the security scanners,”
Simpson stated. The competent security specialist was on the ball, staying
almost a step ahead. “Silence the alarms.”

During the break in action, Micah’s mind
wandered back to Becca. Intimate details haunted him. Facts impossible to know
without having slept with her. Facts he couldn’t forget once he had. Little
things, like how her hair smelled of warm cinnamon, her skin of sweet honey. Amazing
details such as the musky, slightly spicy flavor of her arousal. The explosive
passion hidden beneath layers of respectability.

Rebecca had shoved her sexuality so deep he
doubted she’d known it existed before they met. He’d noticed it from the start.
It was in every sensual move she made, the subtle innuendo and veiled meaning
in how she phrased things. And soon as he’d gotten her alone, the potency of
her innate eroticism had blown him away.

“Suspect’s almost to the doors. Ten feet,
eight…”

Rawlins’ countdown echoed in Micah’s
earpiece, the security guard’s voice cutting through his wayward thoughts. He
had to stop thinking about her. Stop fantasizing and replaying every sizzling
moment in his mind.

“Five, four—”

“Hang on,” Simpson interrupted. “Suspect is
stopping.”

Damn it! Get your fucking head on
straight and in the game before you fuck this up!

“What’s happening?” Micah spoke into the
microphone concealed by the cuff of his shirtsleeve.

“He’s set down the package,” Rawlins
informed. “Hand’s in his pocket. He’s pulling out—”

“It’s a cell phone.” This from Gardner in
the security room. “Locking on to the signal. Give me a sec.”

After a few tense minutes and several
electronic clicks, the ongoing conversation echoed over their com link.

“Stop boring me with the details of your
job and answer the question. Do you have it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. A black SUV will meet you at the
entrance to the parking garage.”

“What about the money?”

“Once you hand over the formula, the funds
will be transferred to your account. We’ve already been over this. Stop
stalling.”

“Fine.”

As the conversation ended, Rawlins resumed
his countdown. Micah forced his wayward thoughts to the back of his mind and
watched for the suspect from across the courtyard. Industrial security didn’t
offer the same thrill for him as serving a decade of covert ops in the Army
had, but he enjoyed his work. Scientific research was a highly competitive
field full of spies who would bribe, coerce and steal in order to gain an
advantage.

Case in point, the weasel was willing to
sell his employer’s new technology. A look at his financial records spoke
volumes. His wife’s lavish spending habits had gotten them deep in debt. Now he
risked his career and even his life for money. Micah had no sympathy for the
idiot.

What did bother him about the whole thing
was the weasel in question had been in daily contact with Dr. Rebecca
Southerby. And the organization was in the process of courting her for a
top-secret project. Not even Micah knew details of what her job would involve.

He didn’t want to believe the sweet and
demure woman he’d shared a night with could be wrapped up in theft. The sad
truth was she appeared to be in this mess up right up to those big green eyes.

“Suspect is on the move. He’s cleared the
doors.”

“I’ve got him,” Micah said. “Move in.”

Either the weasel sensed the impending
danger or something tipped him off. Whatever the reason, he started to run.

“Suspect’s gone rabbit.” Micah began
issuing orders rapid-fire, while racing after the target. “Donovan and Moore,
seal off all exits. Hendry, isolate all known associates. Don’t lose him,
Gardner.”

“Got him, boss,” Gardner replied. “Pick-up
vehicle has rolled up to the southwest gate.”

“I’m on the suspect. The rest of you
converge on the garage. I want whoever is in that vehicle. Lethal force is
not
authorized. Take ‘em down, but make sure they’ll still be able to answer
questions.”

Taser in hand, Micah hurtled decorative
planters and dodged employees outside enjoying their lunch breaks. He had no
trouble closing in on the suspect, a pasty, out-of-shape researcher who spent
most of his time working with his mind while neglecting his body.

Seeing the team converge on the SUV, the
suspect turned and headed toward the nearby forest surrounding the facility,
probably hoping to lose his pursuers in the dense foliage. There wasn’t a
chance in hell of Micah letting that happen.

“He’s headed for the trees.”

And Micah was the only one close. Putting
on a burst of speed fueled by the adrenaline of the chase, his legs ate up the
ground between them, and he gained on the weasel.

Almost there.

He went down, hard. His foot caught in a
hole, wrenching his ankle. Micah landed flat on his face and left knee with
excruciating darts of pain shooting through his leg.

“Fuck, I’m down. Suspect’s in the woods.
Call in local law enforcement.”

* * * * *

“Where the hell am I?”

“Relax, Mr. Lasiter. We’ll be there soon.”

Micah got the hazy impression of a face
hovering over him then it disappeared before he could focus on the image.

“There”? Where the fuck is “there”?

He tried to reach up and rub his temple but
his hands didn’t work right. They were sluggish, unresponsive. And what was
wrong with his eyes? Everything looked fuzzy and surreal. Detached.

He detected movement, saw flashes of green
trees through a dark-tinted window. Heard the hum of tires on asphalt.

The darkness at the edges of his vision
closed in. Someone spoke but he didn’t understand the garbled words.

* * * * *

Micah’s body jerked. His brain struggled to
process the information his senses took in. White walls, beeping instruments,
numbness in his legs, his left arm freezing cold from the IV fluids.

Oh shit!

They’d operated again. How many surgeries
did that make? Three or was it four? He’d lost count. The anesthesia messed him
up, and whatever other drugs they pumped into him fragmented his memories. He
wasn’t sure how much time had gone by since he’d blown out his knee.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good!”

He knew that voice. Micah rolled his head
to the side to find the head of Nanotech, Gabriel Weltman, sitting in a chair
next to the stretcher he lay on.

“You have decisions to make, Micah. With
extensive therapy, you may be able to walk again…one day.”

He caught some of the words but not all.
Stuff about shattered bone and inability to restore function. Enough to
understand he was royally screwed.

“There is another way. We’ve made great
strides with our recombinant DNA and gene-manipulation research. There’s a
procedure our scientists have perfected. The Predator Project.”

Weltman rattled off a bunch of scientific
stuff that went way over Micah’s head.

“We can make you strong again. Stronger
than ever. The intended application is military in nature. We believe you are
the perfect candidate. Your DNA would be altered, infused with
Panthera leo
.”

Panther what?

Certain words rattled and echoed around in
his head.
Stronger than ever. Able to keep working. Top-secret program.

Micah grasped two important facts. The
Predator Project would prevent him from being an invalid. He’d have a second chance.
But something wasn’t right since he’d never heard of the project before. From
the little he knew about research, it sounded as if they’d broken some laws,
maybe done things that circumvented moral and ethical standards for
experimentation.

And he no longer had an out. Now that
Weltman had shared this information, Micah had to either keep quiet and reap
the benefits or blow the whistle, which would probably get him killed. Weltman
couldn’t let him walk—or limp—away. Turning this down would be signing his
death certificate. He no longer had a choice.

“Do it!”

* * * * *

What the fuck have I done?

Damn, had they ever done it. They’d infused
him with animal DNA, performed more operations to help his body accept the new
genetic soup. Stuck him with needles, poked and prodded. Then they became
afraid of their own creation, shoved him in a cage, locked up behind steel
bars. Security cameras watched him every moment, studying him as though he were
an animal in the zoo.

Confused, strapped to an exam table, helpless
and in pain, Micah endured the researchers torturing his abusing and battered
body. Angry and frightened, he felt something elemental within him begin to
shift, an altering of reality.

Glass shattered, pulling Micah from his
confused thoughts.

“Oh god.”

A nervous female technician had dropped a
vial and one of the scientists yelled at her. In his rage, the man lashed out
at the woman, striking her face.

“Leave her alone,” Micah demanded. The
scientist ignored him.

He fought the restraints to no avail as the
woman was slammed against the wall and slapped until she dropped to the ground.
It brought back vile memories from his childhood.

Rage blasted him, heating Micah’s blood.
His body jerked, snapped the bindings and changed. In the blink of an eye his
world reshaped. Antiseptic scents assaulted his nostrils, creating blinding
pain in his head. His vision sharpened, turned to shades of black and white. He
felt strong and had a powerful urge to stalk and hunt.

Shrill screams pierced his skull and made
his temples ache. He shook his head in an effort to ease the pain, relieved
when the horrible sound ended. The rapid pounding of feet brought his attention
to the doorway as men rushed into the room. One of the men drew a weapon and
Micah dodged behind a table.

A piercing burn slammed into his flank and
suddenly his body weakened. His head swam drunkenly, muscles stopped
responding. Heavy limbs faltered, causing him to stumble and fall to the floor
as his vision dimmed.

* * * * *

“Good, the sedative has worn off.”

Weltman’s voice jerked him back to the
present. Micah glared at his boss, who stood on the other side of steel bars.

“I have to say, Lasiter, you going all
feral and shifting into a lion has created quite the stir around here. No one
ever suspected the procedure would give subjects the ability to change form.
We’d hoped for greater strength but this— Amazing.”

Jesus Christ, it’s true then. It really
happened. I turned into a lion.

Shocked beyond speech, he listened,
absorbed. After all, information was power and he needed all he could get.

As he spoke, Weltman motioned for a guard
to unlock the door. He moved into the small space, appearing unafraid. Of
course, the fact the guard held a tranquilizer gun pointed at Micah’s chest
would provide a measure of safety.

“We believe your anger brought about the
change. Our researchers are currently devising a series of tests to determine
what other factors will have the same effect. Thankfully, I had the foresight
to hire a specialist in zoology, specifically in large cats. You might remember
a bit about her since you performed a rather thorough background check.”

Weltman turned to the side, motioned to
someone. “I assure you, my dear, it’s quite safe. Please join us, Dr.
Southerby.”

“Becca?” Jesus, how deeply was she involved
in this mess? How much did she know?

She stepped into view, sucking all
available oxygen from the cell and he forgot why it mattered. His heart and
lungs ceased to function, while his cock roared to life. She appeared small and
fragile standing next to Weltman.

Dressed in sensible clothes and a white lab
coat with wire-rimmed reading glasses perched on the end of her pert nose,
Becca was a sight for sore eyes. As before, her chestnut hair had been pulled
into a chignon at the back of her head. He longed to release the pins and free
the silky mass.

His memories had not done her justice. She
was more beautiful than he’d recalled.

Desire shot through him, heated his blood,
which sizzled within his veins. Lust arced between them, drew them together. Famished,
he drank her in, noticing the signs that Becca was not unaffected by his
presence. Her nipples puckered, pressed against the material of her blouse.
With trembling hands, she reached for him, only to be stopped short several
feet away.

“That’s close enough, dear.”

“M-Micah. What’s going on? What are you
doing here? I don’t understand.”

His gaze was locked on her arm where
Weltman’s fingers wrapped around the slender muscle, holding her back from him.

“I thought you brought me here to work with
a lion?”

Had she not been told what she was getting
into? Had she been kept in the dark?