My feline guest headed straight for the food bowl I'd filled that morning. The crunching sound of his teeth mingled with the rumble of his purr. I shook my head as I watched him gobble the dry nuggets. He acted as though he'd lived with me forever.
"I swear, puss, you've got the loudest purr of any cat I've ever met."
Pausing his meal, he turned those gold-green eyes to mine. "Mrowr," he commented.
I had to laugh. "You must be part Siamese. You really know how to hold up your half of a conversation."
Tom didn't seem inclined to reply. He was licking the last crumbs of kibble from the bowl.
"You must have been hungry."
"Mee-oh," he agreed. The sleek animal brushed my legs as he headed for the sofa, where he crouched in a loose knot of fur. His front paws tucked under his chest, he followed me with his gaze as I stripped out of my sweaty clothing. An echo of my earlier arousal shivered through me. My sex still felt sensitive and swollen.
"I'm going to take a quick shower, then I'll check your wound, okay?" I'd noticed no sign of a limp. Hopefully my disinfection and bandaging the previous night had done some good. "Don't go anywhere!"
Although the day had been warm for the season, the scalding water was bliss on my skin. One of the few positive features of my apartment was its excellent plumbing. The powerful spray stung my breasts and made my lower lips prickle and throb in a decidedly pleasant manner. I've got to find a lover, I thought. Even strangers are turning me on these days.
I didn't want a stranger, though. I knew I was attractive enough, with my medium-pretty face and my curves, to pick up a guy in any bar or coffee shop. If sex were enough for me, I wouldn't have any problem. The trouble was, I wanted more. I wanted a man who'd cherish me, not just fuck me. I wanted a companion, someone who shared my values, who loved animals, music, books, and films the way I did, who didn't think material success was the most important thing in the world.
Jared had been a great lay, and it was clear he thought I was sexy, but I'd never had the sense that he respected me. Although we'd had some fun times, long before he'd dumped me, I'd known he wasn't right. Guess I'd just have to be patient, like my gram used to advise. "There's someone out there for each of us," she used to tell me. "You'll find each other. Have faith."
Resisting the temptation to focus the hand-held sprayer on my tender clit, I turned off the tap and grabbed a towel. First I'd examine the gash on Tom's thigh. Then I'd call Ah Fong to order my favorite orange-flavored beef. I'd pour myself that glass of wine while I was waiting for delivery. And I'd have Tom for company. The thought of curling up with him on the couch, trailing my fingers over his velvety back, had a visceral appeal. Maybe I don't need a man, I thought with a grin, as I wrapped myself in the cheap cotton kimono I'd bought down on Canal Street. Maybe I just need the pet.
"So let's take a look at your leg..." I began, as I emerged from the bathroom. I stopped short, smothered by sudden alarm. The sofa was empty. "Oh no, not again...!"
"Some wine?"
That voice, with it's odd intonation! I whirled to face its source, terror and lust mingled in my chest.
"What? How the hell did you get in here?" I'd made damned sure I'd double-locked the door this time. Yet there he stood - the man from the park - no more than five feet from me, holding out two glasses filled with golden liquid.
"Please, have some wine..." The tall, dark-complexioned stranger took a step toward me. I stepped back.
"Keep away from me! I'll call the police!" Dashing over to the shelf near the door where I'd dropped my purse, I pulled out my mace. Fortunately it was still near the top of the bag. "Don't come any closer, you-you..."
The interloper appeared unperturbed. "I won't hurt you. You should know that. Why would I do anything when you've been so kind to me?" Carrying the two wine glasses between fingers and thumbs, he headed for the sofa. I circled away like a planet around its sun, keeping a distance between us. Meanwhile, he seated himself, placed my glass on the coffee table, and sipped his own. "Mmm. Very nice. Won't you join me?"
His even voice calmed me, despite my attempts to remain indignant. "How did you get into my apartment?" I lowered the can of pepper spray, but refused to come closer.
The stranger shrugged and took another taste of his wine. His steady gaze made my temperature rise. "What's your name?" he asked finally, ignoring my earlier question. "It must be something beautiful, something suitable for such a lovely woman."
His gallantry caught me off guard. "Um - ah - Shaina." I stopped myself there. No way I was going to tell a stranger my last name.
"Wonderful! Did you know that Shaina means 'beautiful' in Hebrew?" He flashed me one of his hundred watt smiles. "I am called Tom. Please come sit with me, Shaina. I swear I won't do anything bad."
I held my ground by the door. I should grab my cell and dial 911, I told myself. Or run out and get help. Wearing nothing but a short robe? And who would help? My neighbors were New Yorkers, too. They weren't about to open their doors to some crazed, half-dressed woman like me.
Tom set down his glass. His eyes narrowed. "Are you that frightened of me?" Sorrow took over his handsome face. "Very well. I'll leave, then. I had hoped..." The sadness painting his features morphed to terrible fury for an instant. I shrank back against the wall. "But I should know better than to hope, cursed as I am." A deep sigh scattered his evil mood. Once more I read only regret and pain in his eyes.
He rose, heading for me and the exit. His impossible grace made me ache to touch him. Although he was fully dressed, in jeans, a tee shirt, and scuffed trainers, something about the way he moved made me imagine him naked. I remembered the rush of lust he'd kindled back in the park. A pang of desire arced through me.
Before I could stop him, he was standing in front of me, looming over me. I had no sense of threat, though. I caught the heady scent of male sweat, woven with the sharpness of crushed vegetation. I felt the warmth radiating from his body. I felt his power, sheathed, hidden, bubbling beneath the surface.
"You're blocking the door, Shaina. You'll have to move if you want me to go."
Wordless, lost in the storm of emotion swirling through me, I stepped aside. He flipped open the deadbolt.
"Goodbye, beautiful one."
"No..."
I didn't intend to speak. The one word plea emerged without any conscious decision. I reached for him, to hold him back. Some part of me knew that I shouldn't, couldn't allow him to leave.
Electricity shot through my arm, sizzled down my spine and ignited in my sex. I gasped.
"You feel it too, don't you?" With one finger, he tipped my face toward his. His eyes were emeralds set in ebony. They were so familiar...I knew this stranger, recognized him at some fundamental level below rational thought.
Heat hummed through me, rippling out from that tiny spot on my chin where our skin met. I was acutely aware of my bare flesh under the thin cotton, my nipples gathered into tight, throbbing knots, my thighs damp with fluid leaking from my cleft.
I held his gaze, allowing him to see the raw need he inspired. I was totally naked, open, silently inviting him to take me.
He bent to me. His breath warmed my cheek as I held my own in anticipation. Then his lips met mine and reality exploded into a riot of lush sensation. Colors flared around us, scarlet, vermillion, grass-green, velvety jet. A thousand scents teased my nostrils - the sweetness of fallen blossoms and ripe earth, summer-baked hay and rust-tinged water running over smooth stone. Sparks danced across my skin and burrowed beneath, racing through my blood to swell and soak me.
Just the chaste press of his closed lips had this effect. When he opened to slide his tongue into my mouth, a dizzy fever swept over me. I grabbed him, wrapping my arms around his back, plastering my body against his, mashing my hungry breasts against his solid chest. I wanted total contact. The parts of me that weren't touching him felt lost, abandoned. A rigid bulk prodded my belly. I squirmed against him, thrilled by the promise of that hardness.
His tongue flicked across mine, rougher than I'd expected. He devoured me as though he was starved, gnawing on my lips then plunging deep inside. I felt every move in my pussy, as if that agile tongue rasped over my pulsing clit instead of my palate. My nipples were so tight they hurt. I ground my pubis against him, already trembling on the edge of orgasm.
I wanted - oh, how I wanted him! - his mouth on my breasts, his tongue circling my clit, his cock driving into my liquefying depths! At the same time, I didn't want the kiss to end. He tasted of the chardonnay, sweet and spicy. He made me drunk. The world whirled around me as he sucked my tongue into his mouth then bit down until a hint of copper mingled with the wine.
"Oh..." I moaned into his mouth, only half in protest. His hands pushed the kimono out of the way and wandered over my body, leaving trails of fire. I was ready to burn.
He knew. He understood. He slid a finger into my trembling pussy, straight to the swollen button of flesh at the apex. One touch was all it took. I dissolved into liquid pleasure, borne away on a flood of near-unbearable sensation. Rational thought simply evaporated. There was nothing but my pleasure-ravaged body twitching in his embrace.
How long did I come? It might have been hours - days. The intensity would have scared me, but through it all I sensed Tom was there, holding me tight as violent spasms of ecstasy shuddered through me. Somehow, I felt safe.
When the convulsions finally trailed off, I found we had collapsed onto the carpet. Sweaty and spent, I lay on my side, curled into a ball. Tom's body cradled mine, my back against his chest, his unrelieved erection nestled lengthwise in the cleft between my buttocks. That delicious hardness quickened the embers of my arousal. I thought about rolling over and taking him in my hand or my mouth, to repay him with equal pleasure, but a strange weakness had infiltrated my limbs. It felt so wonderful simply to lie there, so close, enveloped in his warmth and his scent.
His mouth hovered near my ear. His even breathing stirred my hair. Then he started to hum, a muted, tuneless rumble that settled me into deeper lassitude and contentment. I snuggled against him, soothed by the low vibrations of his voice, suffused with a sense of well-being.
There was something familiar about his song. I tried to place it. Just before I drifted into slumber, it came to me. My new lover sounded like he was purring.