Piece of Tail (3 page)

She peeked down at the ground and noticed that Andy seemed to have gotten over his objection and utter hate of her rather quickly as he followed sedately behind them. Patrick still had the dog's leash looped around his wrist, but as big as the beast was, it could run off quick as you please without so much as a ta-ta for now.
Steak. Hmm…

The dog must have felt her stare because it turned its attention to her and bared his teeth. So much for that.

"Just a bit further. Are you in a lot of pain?"

Pain? Wha—
"Um, no, I'm fine. I appreciate you being so gallant and all that, Patrick."

He snorted. “Gallant? Naw, just your regular creepy guy looking for an excuse to get his hands on a hot woman."

She whipped her head around to stare at Patrick, but before she could question him or shove her tongue down his throat for saying she was hot, Andy barked.

"Yeah, boy, we're almost home,” he assured the dog. Only the barking didn't stop. The whole trudge up the steps and toward the door, he barked and hopped and acted like a general nuisance. Her annoyance grew until she felt the telltale tingle in her lower back.
Well, fuck.

Before she could cool her temper, she'd sprouted. The damned tail grew from her lower back, just above her ass. Three feet of near white and grey fluffiness sprouted and lengthened from beneath her dress as Patrick climbed the stairs. Thank goodness the dog kept him occupied enough to not notice her new appendage. Not that he'd be too overwhelmed. It wasn't as if he didn't know she was a halfsie. Then again, he probably hadn't been faced with too many half-shifts in his lifetime either. Secrecy of the prides and all that.

The damned dog kept barking and tugging on Patrick's wrist, which in turn, jostled her and then… The fucking beastie had the gall to sniff and then growl at her tail. Her. Tail.

Oh hells, no.

Before she could think better of it, not that she would of anyway, she rapped the dog on the end of his nose. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to teach the dog that regardless of his size, she was the big cat. The dog whimpered like a baby and quieted immediately.
Pansy.

Patrick finally reached the top step and set her on her feet just as the front door swung open to reveal Daniel. She took a moment to look him over while he got over the shock of finding her on his doorstep. After she'd broken his… hand? Her eyes landed on the hand in question and she didn't find a cast. Well, that just made her day a hundred times better. Like, over the moon better. Now, she didn't have anything to confess to Tash and Sam.
Whew.

Well, he had to still be a little sore, but at least it wasn't broken. His hand shifted and tightened the towel around his waist. Towel?

Whoa, baby.

She scanned his body quickly. Trim hips, flat stomach, killer pecs and wide shoulders.
Yum.
The man seemed to have muscle upon muscle upon muscle. By the time she reached his face he was smiling with one eyebrow arched. Well, she'd never been bashful before, why start now? Besides, he was gay, like all the other hot men in the world, and practically married to the man standing next to her. She could look, just not touch since it'd probably gross him out.

Tail swishing between her legs, she quickly wrapped it around her thigh and prayed no one had seen her little slip up. She liked to call them blips, but when explaining “blips” to Tasheka, the word just seemed to piss the woman off even more. The silken hair tickled her legs and she hoped pleasantries would get underway. She really needed to get somewhere private to take care of her spontaneous fur problem.
Any second now, guys.

"That was fast.” Daniel winced internally and cursed himself. He didn't imagine Gina appearing on his doorstep wearing next to nothing meant she was here because of what he and Patrick had discussed. Dammit, couldn't Patrick have called and warned him? That was why they had cell phones. Sort of.

Best play it off somehow.
Then again, when he looked at Patrick the man just smirked at him, proving that his lover was well aware of his discomfort. He cleared his throat. “Hey Gina, uh, I guess you ran into Patrick in the park.” Stupid. He turned his attention to Patrick for some help. “Andy not up to much of a walk today?"

Please play along, please. Before I get a fucking hard-on in front of her, for her… in her. No. Wrong way for my thoughts to turn.

Patrick released the dog's leash and Andy bound into the townhouse. Odd since the dog rarely left his side when he was home. He'd had Andy for years before becoming Patrick's partner and the dog was practically a second mate. Minus the sex, of course.

"Actually, Andy was in mind for a run.” He raised his eyebrows, shocked that the big bear of a dog who normally hated walks wanted to run. Patrick continued. “In fact, he ran Gina up a tree.” Patrick nudged Gina forward and across the threshold. “I now leave her to your tender mercies while I go hunt for her shoes.” Patrick leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, and then jogged down the steps. “Bye, Gi!"

With that, Patrick did exactly as he promised and left him with Gina. He wanted to scream at the man to come back, but the words died in his throat as the woman in question skirted around him and into their home. Her ass brushed his hip and he fought the urge to grasp her and grind his growing erection into her ass.
Fuck.

Why did Patrick have to leave him with her? After all they'd talked about this afternoon, he had to bring the object of their collective lust home with him? Now?

She moved silently as a cat in their home. One moment she stood in the hallway with him and the next she'd disappeared, little bits of dirt and grass the only evidence that she hadn't been a dream.

Daniel followed her trail through his home. He passed one door and then another. When he strode past the living room, he noticed Andy doing his best to fit his two hundred pound body underneath their leather couch. What the hell was up with that dog?

The muffled footsteps above him wrenched his attention away from their pet and back to the woman. His woman. Their woman. Okay, in his dreams maybe, but nothing could change the fact that she was there, in their house, and he was getting the chance to take care of her. The reasons, whys, and wherefores didn't matter any longer. He and Patrick had talked, agreed and sealed the decision with a good old fashioned fuck before Patrick had taken the dog for his daily walk. Only… he hadn't imagined his lover jumping into things so fast. Or maybe it was just fate fucking with them. Either way, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Holding his towel, he took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the smudges of dirt on the polished stairs. His inner neat-freak wanted him to stop and wipe the floor clean, but lust rode him hard, right beside nerves and just behind anticipation.

He didn't find her on the second floor, a quick look into the spare bedrooms and office revealed that she'd been there, but wasn't there now. Again he bounded up the stairs. The third floor only held the master suite.
Oh. Shit.
He stopped at the top of the stairs and begged his dick to soften, willed his heart rate to slow.

Years. Years of listening to tales of Gina's antics, humor and unrelenting loyalty had him feeling emotions that he wasn't sure were justified just yet. At least, he didn't think she'd believe him if he ran in with a raging hard on and words of love and shit. Okay, it probably wasn't love, but it was definitely lust with a big heaping helping of like. Yeah, lots and lots of like. He stared down at his cock, straining against the weight of the towel wrapped around his waist. About eight inches of solid, nail pounding, like.

Daniel closed his eyes and tipped back his head. He took a deep cleansing breath and shook off the lust riding him like a damned bronco and straightened his shoulders. He could do this. He could be the nice amenable guy that takes care of the girl without any sexual overtones. Yeah. This, this he could do. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and stepped into the bedroom. He heard their guest tinkering in the bathroom and assumed she was looking for first aid supplies. He wasn't going to tell her that they had some in the kitchen downstairs. Not when he had her so close to a bed and…
No.
Not going there. Not yet anyway.

Attention focused on the bathroom door, he slipped into a pair of loose-fitting shorts. His cock, still half-hard, caught on the elastic and he wondered for a moment if he should slip on a pair of briefs to help keep the
Big Man Below
restrained. A muffled curse reached his ears and he decided against any further clothing. Gina sounded as if she were in pain and here he was, wondering how best to handle his dick.
Asshole.

He strode toward the open bathroom door and stepped over the threshold only to be pole-axed by the vision before him. Gina, all curves, spit and fire, was sitting on the bathroom counter, legs forming a V that left her completely open to his gaze. One leg dangled and bounced against the cabinets while the other foot was resting on the counter, pressed against her ass on the smooth granite beneath her. And she wasn't wearing panties or knickers or underwear, or whatever the fuck you called the damned material that should have been hiding her most intimate place from his view. Nope, the most perfectly constructed woman in the world was propped open, pink and slick and damned if he didn't want to sink to his knees in front of her. He wanted to make a meal of her pussy, gorge himself on her for as long as she let him.

Gina's attention was focused on her leg and while she seemed oblivious to his presence, he decided to look his fill. Perverted? Absolutely. He'd proudly state his status as the Perverts Club President if it meant he could stare at this woman. Her kinky, curly black hair hung like a curtain, shielding her face from his view. Good thing there was a lot more of her he could look at for now. The dress she wore clung to her curves, outlining the generous swell of her breasts, the curve of her stomach and flare of her hips. When his gaze landed on her lush thighs, his perusal ended. Damn. That tree Andy had chased her up did a number on the skin of her thighs and here he was…

"Enjoying the view?"

Her deep voice had him wrenching his eyes from the V of her thighs to the wall just to his right. He opened the door to the linen closet and extracted a small towel. Eyes averted, he approached her with a few long strides and started to place the towel where she, hell he, needed it most. Woman must not know just how tempting her sweet looking pussy was. Eyes closed, he waited until she took the towel from his hand to open them again. She hadn't done what he thought she'd do. She was busy wiping the tiny beads of sweat from her brow. Without a word, he snatched it from her and shoved it at her groin. Women.

"
Ow.
” She glared at him.

"Sorry, but…” He gestured to her lap, blush heating his cheeks.

Gina tucked the towel between her legs. “Look, if you're getting squeamish, looking at my vag, all you had to do was say so. I didn't finger you for a prude since you answered the door in a towel and up until now, sported a nice looking rod in your pants, which got me thinking you guys were bi, but whatever."

If he hadn't been paying such close attention to her, he would have missed it. He would have missed the spark of hurt followed by embarrassment that flashed across her face just before she glared at him and went back to cleaning the scratches on her inner thigh. He opened his mouth to… what? Explain? Yeah, explain. Maybe not the whole thing since he couldn't grow balls big enough to do that without Patrick at his side, but he could tell her a little. Too bad she had other ideas.

One hand tucked between her legs, holding the towel in place, she glared at him again. “This is all Patrick's fault. He knows I live a few blocks over, but instead of taking me home, what does he do?"

He didn't think she really wanted an answer, so he kept his mouth shut.

"He brings me here where his hubby answers the door in nothing but a towel and a smile."

He almost added, “and a hard-on", but didn't.

"So, he knows I'm adventurous and what the hell was I supposed to think when he leaves us alone? I figured, ‘Hey, the gay guys want a swing on the bi-way, but don't know how to ask and they're hot as hell, so why not?’ And a few minutes ago you were staring at me as if I'm a downed gazelle and you're a starving lion and then you're covering me up.
Men.
"

Her attention returned to her scrapes and she widened her legs, probably in an attempt to get to the rest of her scratches. He heard her mumbling under her breath about some guy named Teague and he made a note to ask Patrick about the man later. His lover hadn't mentioned that they might have competition. When she sucked in a quick breath and hissed, he decided it was time to take over. With only one hand available to wipe and tug at her skin, she wasn't having much luck and it seemed like she was hurting more than helping herself.

Daniel snagged a cotton ball, doused it in Bactine and dropped to his knees… which was probably a mistake. Because now, he could smell her scent. Not that of her skin or clothes, but her.

"Here, let me.” He brushed her hands aside and he could feel her glare. Deserved or not, he hated it. He hated that he'd managed to fuck everything up within minutes of being left alone with her. He wasn't a words guy and somehow, he thought she'd have enough for the both of them. Too bad they seemed to be the wrong ones.

As carefully as he could, he wiped away the bits of dirt and flakes of bark that'd become embedded in her skin. Droplets of blood stained the cotton ball and each time she tensed, he blew a warm breath across her skin. He hoped it soothed the ache and took the sting away. He urged her to bend her knee further, exposing more of her skin and allowing him to reach the rest of her scratches.

The left leg cleaned, he wrapped his fingers around her ankle and slowly lowered it before he turned his attention to her right leg. With each passing second, the scent of her musk seemed to grow thicker, stronger. It invaded his senses, beckoning him to take the tiniest of tastes, but he resisted.