Lion And The Falcon (Furry United Coalition) (11 page)

“Ha, ha, Sylvester. Don’t give up your day job because your career as a comedian will prove short.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny. Just trying to find out what yo
u need to get comfortable.”

“A blanket and pillow for yonder couch will work fine.”

“Take the bed.”

“No
, thank you.”

“I insist. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Sleep in sheets imbued with his scent, possibly still carrying the scent—or icky stains—from his latest amorous encounter. No way, although given the cleanliness of the place, they were probably pristine. Still, though, she didn’t need any more fodder for her surprisingly overactive imagination where he was concerned.

“You keep the bed. I wouldn’t want you to end up sleep deprived.”

“You know, we could share. It’s big enough for two. Actually, we could comfortably fit more.”

“Know that for a fact
, do you?”

“Unfortunately
, yes.”

For some reason the thought he’d experienced what he pretty much admitted to an orgy prickled. Flicking her hair back, she stood and walked away. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Through the door with the frosted glass. Do you want something to change into? I don’t have any woman’s clothes, but I can offer a t-shirt or something.”

“Nope. I’m good.
”

Given the opulence of the living room and kitchen, the marble garnished bathroom with its double sink, super
-sized glass shower, and plush towels didn’t surprise her in the least. Using the facilities, she took a moment after she washed her hands to splash her face with cool water, unable to avoid seeing her reflection in the mirror.

A familiar visage looked back. Not exactly pretty, or
so numerous people remarked—some of them while dating her—with features too bold and sharp for cuteness. Still, though, she wasn’t butt ugly. She possessed clear skin, lustrous hair, and straight teeth. But what did she care how she looked? It wasn’t relevant to the job at hand.

Nolan thinks I’m sexy.
Probably because she kept rejecting him. A man like him, used to women dropping their panties if he so much as smiled, probably thought her a challenge. And he could keep thinking that because she had no interest in bedding him. Nope. None. No matter how sexy he appeared when she stepped out to find him wearing low-hipped lounge pants and a form-fitting under armor shirt.

It took her a moment to register he held out an offering, more like waved it in her face. “Here. I know you said you didn’t want one, but in case you change your mind, this should act as a nighty.”

“Thanks.” She grasped the offered t-shirt.

“I put some blankets and pillows on the couch. But again, if you find it too uncomfortable, the bed is big enough for two.
”

“No, it’s probably best if I sleep out here, you know, in case of
an attack.”

“
Right. So I guess I should say good night.”

“Good night.
”

Why did they stand there staring at each other?
Bodies swaying closer, as if pulled together by some invisible force. Her breathing shallow. His eyes dilating. The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. A rumble went through him. She snapped back.

What am I doing?

Without another word, she practically flew around him and dove onto the couch.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said gruffly.

Burrowing under a blanket, body hot, heart racing, she managed to mutter, “Yup.” And then proceeded to toss and turn until dawn before falling into a restless sleep where she dreamt she was a giant yellow bird chased by a great big kitty. Only, when she was caught, the type of eating he put her through had her screaming in pleasure, not pain.

Falling asleep should have happened in seconds given the evening
’s activities and his snack. However, Nolan, arm cradled under his head, couldn’t get his mind to shut down, not when he remained all too aware of the woman crashed on the couch just outside his room.

Claric
e.

A bird.

A sexy chick.

A sexy, aggressive falcon
who hated him because he was a lion. A spoiled, useless feline according to her. The knowledge she thought so little of him should have predisposed him into disliking her in return, or at the very least, allowed him to ignore her.

Nope.

Despite her angular frame, her snide remarks, the whole species thing, and more, he couldn’t help a tug of attraction. More than tug, full-blown arousal. Just the mere thought of her had him tenting his covers. What a pain. Blue balls and Nolan weren’t closely acquainted. Usually when he got a sexual urge, the reason for it was on hand—and sometimes knees—to take care of it. On rare occasions when he didn’t feel like company, he let his hand do the work. Lying alone in his room, he couldn’t bring himself to take care of his large problem. Nor could he saunter forth and pour on the charm in the hopes of a BJ or some action. From what he’d learned of Clarice so far, she was more likely to shoot him than give him sex.

I wonder why she’s so prickly?
Part of it stemmed from the whole avian versus feline problem. Instinct was a hard thing to fight, but he got the impression her aggressive nature went deeper than that. He sensed trust issues on her part, big ones, and suspected her attitude was her way of shielding herself from emotional damage. Could the loss of her mother explain it? What about her father? Where was he in all this? And why did his furry side think that licking her from head to toe would turn her prickly fowl temper into cooing erotic bliss?

Pondering the various ways to tame the wild bird on his couch followed him into sleep where he dreamed himself into a certain cartoon character on an endless chase after an elusive bird.
Not exactly restful. Certainly not in the ordinary, and kind of disturbing given once he caught her and realized his comic book version didn’t have the proper equipment to do what his mind fantasized.

While in the midst of that dilemma, a loud noise penetrated his dream and
Nolan instantly woke. He flung the covers back just as his condo door slammed shut with a resounding boom. The snarled, “Who the hell are you?” by a voice he recognized—
uh oh, Mother’s here
—followed by Clarice’s belligerent, “What’s it matter to you, cougar?” spelled an even bigger uh-oh.

“
I’ll ask the questions here, bird. Where’s my son?”

“In the bedroom.
I have to say, though, don’t you think you’re a little old for him, grandma.” Crazy falcon. She baited the wrong person. Nolan couldn’t help but grin, though, as he imagined his mother’s face.
I am liking my new ASS friend more and more.

“Grandma!
Did you just call me old?”

“So sorry.” Yeah, she didn’t sound too apologetic. Nolan knew he should get out there, but a morbid fascination over how far Clarice would push his mother kept him still. Clarice didn’t disappoint. “Would you prefer the term cougar? Cradle robber? Mrs. Robinson?”

“I am not here to sleep with him, hussy.”

“I’m sure that’s a first,” Clarice replied.
“And I wouldn’t be tossing names, or did you not notice the fact I was sleeping on the couch until you barged in?”

“
Obviously, he wanted to sleep alone. Yet, look at you. Desperate for attention, lounging on his couch, half-naked.” Half-naked? Really? And he’d missed it. Damn. The mental image almost made him miss his mother’s next words. “He’s probably hiding in his room waiting for you to leave. Can’t you take a hint? Get your clothes and go.”

“Not happening.”

“Excuse me. Do you know who you’re dealing with?”

“
I think I can guess and my answer is still no. Like it or not, I’m not going anywhere. As a matter of fact, you should get used to seeing me around. I’ll be sticking real close to Nolan. And I mean
close
. Where he goes, I go.”

Dead silence. “Are you implying what I th
ink you are, big bird?”

“Big? I wouldn’t be calling me fat
, Garfield. Did someone indulge in one too many saucers of cream? You know, the pet store is having a sale on catnip and mice. Maybe you should invest in some and work off those extra pounds.”

Enjoying himself way too much, Nolan didn’t immediately get up
, even when he heard the crash of what was probably the glass dish holding his keys. It wasn’t often he got to hear someone stand up to his mother. Unless they possessed a death wish. He also found it interesting that despite Clarice’s intentional misleading statements that she and Nolan were involved, he didn’t bristle, sweat hairballs, and he didn’t want to scale out his balcony window and run. Usually when a female got possessive, his first instinct involved extricating himself and hiding. However, in Clarice’s case, even though said jokingly, her taunt of sticking to him like glue made his furry self purr and puff his chest. Had someone slipped him some catnip in the ventilation system again? Why on earth would the idea please him?

The melody of chaos continued via more taunting and thrown objects. God only knew the mess his mother made in her tantrum, a mess he most certainly would not clean up.
When he heard the feline roar, though, which meant his mother shifted, he hopped out of bed, and clad only in his boxers, exited the bedroom.

Turn
ed out, he needn’t have worried. Despite the large lioness pacing his living room, teeth bared, hair hackled, and eyes glaring with hatred, Clarice didn’t appear the least bit worried. Standing in a half crouch dressed in tight boy shorts and a sports bra, which showed off her tanned and muscled physique, Clarice stood before his transformed mother dangling a piece of string, cooing, “Here, kitty, kitty. Come and play. Someone needs the exercise before she gets too fat to chase mice.”

Leaning against the
doorjamb, Nolan shook his head, unable to stop his lips from curling. “You know, most people would call what you’re doing suicidal.”

“
Bah. I think of it as exercise. Some people rely on a gym. I prefer real life to keep me in shape and on my toes.” She reached out and tapped the enraged matriarch on the nose. Blinking and shaking her head, his mother snarled. Clarice, despite her human form, snarled back. Mother dear, not expecting the response, narrowed her gaze and crouched down for a pounce, long tail thrashing.

“
Not in the house,” he admonished.

“Yeah,
chubby kitty. You heard the king of the jungle. No fighting in his house.”

“Clarice.” Nolan moaned her name
, and not in a good way.

His mother coughed her displeasure.

Shaking a finger, Clarice tsked. “Bad kitty. No hacking up fur balls either. I hear they’re hell on carpet.”

The look on his mother’s face? Yeah,
Nolan didn’t even bother fighting his erupting laughter. “Yup. You are definitely suicidal. When you’re done playing with my mother, would you like some breakfast?”

“Are you cooking?”

“Are you insane? I’ve got room service on speed dial.”

“You live in a condo
, not a hotel,” she replied as she dodged a swinging paw with claws protruding. Clarice retaliated by dangling the string and making kissy noises.

“
A condo with many amenities. Any preferences for food? Actually, I’m famished this morning. I’ll just get two of everything and you can choose what you want.”

“Sounds good,” Clarice
said as she bounced up on his couch and then flipped over it to avoid his mother’s lunge.

The chick had some moves, he’d give her that. And if he kept watching, he’d probably show some definite movement in a fashion that might prove embarrassing. Turning away from the action, h
e sauntered across the room, forgetting for a moment he only wore his underwear, but he remembered real quick at her sucked in breath. Turning his head, he caught Clarice’s glazed expression, parted lips, and the tightening of her nipples through spandex fabric. He also saw his mother coil herself to spring while Clarice was distracted.

“Shit.”
Leaping across the room, he made it in time to knock his mother aside before she disemboweled his temporary ASS partner. Needless to say, that didn’t go over well.

Changing shapes in the blink of an eye, his very naked mother
—
Ack! I’m blind!
—hands planted on her hips, hollered at him, “Nolan Fitzgerald Benjamin Manners, you did not just attack me in defense of a bird.”

“Benjamin?” Clarice snickered behind his back.

“Shut up, Tweety.” He didn’t flinch at the punch Clarice aimed at his kidneys, but he did at the narrowed lips and deadly expression in his mother’s eyes. Uh-oh. Trouble. And before breakfast, too. He could already predict this would cut into his morning nap, or judging by the position of daylight across his floor, afternoon one.

“
Is someone going to explain what is going on here?” his mother asked in a low voice.