Stray Cat Strut

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica
Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Stray Cat Strut

ISBN # 9781419907258

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Stray Cat Strut Copyright© 2006 Shelley Munro

Edited by Mary Moran.

Cover art by Syneca.

Electronic book Publication: November 2006

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by
any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave
Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The
characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Content Advisory:

                                                  S
– ENSUOUS

                                                  E
– ROTIC

                                                  X
- TREME

Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™
reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).

The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for
mature readers. This story has been rated E–rotic.

S-
ensuous
love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to
the imagination.

E-
rotic
love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the
imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. E-rated titles
might contain material that some readers find objectionable—in other words,
almost anything goes, sexually. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we
carry in terms of both sexual language and descriptiveness in these works of
literature.

X-
treme
titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot
premise and storyline execution. Stories designated with the letter X tend to
contain difficult or controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

Stray Cat Strut

Shelley Munro

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked
status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work
of fiction:

Speights: Lion Nathan Brands Company
Limited Corporation New Zealand

Chapter One

“Saul, why can’t you settle down like the
two Mitchell boys? They’ve found mates. If they can catch a woman, so can you.”
My father sat at the head of the table, the flat of his hand thumping the
tabletop and punctuating his words, laying down the law.

While he was busy lecturing me, I stared at
my mother. She stood by the stove, stirring a pot for our dinner and nodding
the whole time. Her jaw-length blonde hair swished around her face, confirming
she agreed with her life partner. My feline self snarled inside. It was as if
they were joined at the hip, programmed to make the same decisions. Think the
same things.

Fine for them.

My fingers closed around the can of beer on
the table in front of me while I acknowledged I was a puzzle to my parents. A
twenty-five-year-old disappointment. They couldn’t work out why I wasn’t out
chasing skirt like the rest of my friends, like the rest of the male shifters
of marriageable age.

My father droned on, repeating more of the
same. Although my mouth curled in a lazy grin, I was anything but relaxed.

“What about the Matthews girl? I hear she’s
returning from Dunedin. We’ll invite her around for dinner,” my father said.

I stiffened, my spine hitting the back of
my wooden chair. Feline shifters were hardwired to find a mate. It just was,
and I understood that, but no way was I going to be saddled with someone of my
parents’ choosing. The old man continued with the lecture and eventually, I
tuned him out. The thing was, I didn’t do women. I was into men and nothing was
going to change that fact. After a lot of soul-searching and experimentation,
I’d accepted it. I was different from most males, both human and shifter. There
would be no mate for me.

“Damn it, boy.” My father smashed his fist
into the table, his face turning red with irritation. The knives and forks and
condiments my mother had placed on the table jumped and lurched out of place.
“Are you listening to me?”

I inhaled deeply, wondering how this
conversation had slithered into dangerous territory so quickly. I blamed my
friends Saber and Felix Mitchell for putting ideas into the old man’s head.
“Yeah, Dad. I hear you. The neighbors can probably hear you.”

“Listen to your father, son.” My mother’s
voice was low and soothing as if she recognized how close we were to jumping
into a shouting match, into saying things we’d regret.

“I’m listening.” But it was a lie. I didn’t
have to since I knew the lecture by heart. Somewhere out there was the woman
for me—maybe another shifter, if I were really lucky. We’d mate and spend the
rest of our lives together. Be happy. No point fighting fate.

On cue, my parents cast each other adoring
looks. A snort escaped before I could censor it—a fact that didn’t escape my
father. But hell, I was so tired of the constant bitching about my lack of
success with women. The same old tired litany. The words, oft repeated, ground
away at my self-control.

My father drew himself up and glared at me
from beneath bushy brows. “There’s a mate for you. All you need to do is find
her.”

“Dad!” My tone was sharp, demanding he
listen. I leapt to my feet, my heart pounding. “I’m not hooking up with a
female. I’m not interested in women. I’m gay.”

For an instant, we stared at each other.
Shock hit us all equally—my parents suffered from the announcement while I
couldn’t believe I’d actually confessed the truth.

I was gay and women didn’t do it for me.

“That’s a good joke, Saul. Nearly had us
there.” My father’s booming laugh echoed inside the steamy kitchen. He really
thought I was joking.

My mother’s face was pale when she scanned
my features. She didn’t laugh because something in my face convinced her I was
telling the truth. Her eyes rounded and turned glassy, as if she might cry.

I glanced away, unwilling to see her pain.
“I’m not joking, Dad. There won’t be any mate for me because I’m gay.”

There was a strained silence in the
kitchen, broken only by the insistent clack of a clock. We stared at each
other, the tension palpable.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blurt it out
like—”

“Get out.” My father’s words were icy cold.
Distant. I knew this wasn’t the time to argue that being gay didn’t make me any
different, that I was still his son.

I turned away, hesitating only when I heard
my mother’s sob.

“Don’t cry, Allison. Saul isn’t worth it.
He’s sick. Abnormal. He is not our son. Go,” my father snapped when he noticed
I’d paused. “Don’t bother coming back.”

I continued walking, stopping only to grab
my wallet and keys off the kitchen counter. I walked outside and climbed into
my SUV. I sat motionless in the driver’s seat. Sick at heart. Disillusioned. I
burrowed my hands through my unruly dark hair and cursed before shoving the
keys in the ignition. My father was wrong. I was normal. I was just like
everyone else in Middlemarch. All I wanted was love.

* * * * *

Aoraki Mount Cook National Park is a
thriving tourist destination. In the winter it’s skiing while in the summer the
mountains of the Southern Alps are the preserve of trampers along with the
tourists wanting to get a closer look at New Zealand’s highest mountain
peak—Aoraki, the cloud piercer.

O’Hara’s, one of the bars near The
Hermitage Hotel in Mount Cook village was bustling with a mixture of tourists,
workers and locals. Since it was a Saturday night, the bar had employed a band
and a male singer belted out a rock classic. Several couples danced, bodies
writhing in time to the beat of the music in the dimly lit room.

I leaned against the bar and idly watched
the customers while sipping my beer. I’d been in the village for two months,
working for a company that took guided walks around the Mount Cook area. I
loved the seasonal job, enjoying being outdoors in the mountain air and having
the opportunity to shift and run in relative privacy because of the sparseness
of the population. I’d be sorry when the job ended in a few weeks. Mount Cook
was a shifter’s paradise. People surrounded me, yet I was lonely.

A woman pushed into a gap at the bar
between me and another woman. The new arrival was gorgeous, tall and slender
but not too skinny. When she pressed closer to me, I tensed.
Shifter
.
The woman was a shifter. I inhaled her scent with something akin to pleasure
because I hadn’t seen another shifter since I’d left Middlemarch.

She wasn’t black leopard like me. Not that
it mattered because I was so desperate for communication with a like being.
Shifters weren’t meant to live alone.

I wasn’t meant to live a solitary life.

My gaze wandered across the smooth, tanned
skin of her face. She really was lovely. I could appreciate her stunning beauty
even though I preferred males.

“What are you staring at?” she demanded,
catching me off guard. Her brown eyes flashed and she tossed a luxurious mane
of blonde curls over her shoulder. Irritation underlined the move but instead
of making me back off, she made me grin.

“You,” I drawled. “I’m staring at you.” I’m
not sure where the urge to tease her came from, but since her attention
centered on me, I continued with the impulse.

“Don’t bother, pretty boy. You’re wasting
your time blinking your cute green eyes and flashing your dimples at me. I’m
not interested.” South Africa colored her voice, the accent strong and brash.

My grin widened to toothy. “Most girls wait
until they’re asked before assuming. But as it happens, I’m not looking for a
woman.” I paused, my gaze running across her beautiful face and dipping
momentarily to peruse her breasts. My gaze lifted again to caress her face.
“Now if you had a brother, I might be interested.” Hell, my tongue had turned
rebellious. Honesty poured from me. We gaped at each other, my words hanging
between us. I figured even though I spoke the truth, she would assume I was
joking. But instead of laughing, the color bleached from her face, leaving her
deathly pale. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I’m meeting someone. Wrong bar.”
She backed away abruptly, colliding with a solid male. She whirled, gasped and
grabbed the forearm of the man she’d crashed into. “Wrong bar. Let’s go.” She
tried to pull him from the bar but he stood his ground. His blond brows rose
while a tiny smile played across his sensual lips.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your
friend?”

“No,” the woman snapped. “Let’s go.”

“I’ve only just arrived.” He held out his hand
and smiled at me. Slow and languid, it played hell with my libido. My heart
hammered against my ribs when I placed my hand in his. Our gazes caught and
held, and it wasn’t in the normal, casual way of two males meeting. It was
more. Much more. Direct. A moment of pure honesty. And suddenly I knew why the
woman was worried.

“I’m Lucas Huntingdon,” he said. “This is
my sister Leticia.”

Sister.

I tightened my grip on Lucas’ hand. Just a
fraction to let him know I returned his interest before releasing it. “Saul
Sinclair.”

“Can I buy you a drink, Saul?” Lucas’ brown
eyes held glints of gold. His blond hair surrounded his head like a halo, a
mass of golden curls. I picked up the same hint of shifter on the air and
everything clicked into place. South Africa and shifter.

Lion
.

Intrigued, I continued to stare. My cock
reared against the fly of my jeans, my libido shooting into high gear. Other
than one-night stands, I hadn’t met anyone who interested me for months. There
had been Nick, my roommate while I’d attended Otago University for my Bachelor
of Science in Dunedin, but we’d parted ways when he’d decided he wanted
marriage and children. Traditional. He’d broken my heart and I hadn’t wanted
anyone for a long time. After that, I’d only had short-term relationships since
it was a bit difficult to find prospective partners while living in
Middlemarch. I snorted inwardly. Hell, I could be honest with myself. One-night
stands were about as good as it came. I studied Lucas’ handsome face, full of
acute anticipation. This was a first. I’d never met a gay shifter, let alone
made love to one. Lucas made me think of hot and heavy sex. He made me think of
more than one night. His obvious magnetism and golden good looks made me think
of a future. My future. Maybe our future, even though it was a bit early for
thoughts like that, I could hope. I wiped my palms on my denim-covered thighs
and aimed for calm. It wouldn’t do to look desperate and needy, especially when
he mightn’t feel the same way.

“Thanks. I’ll have a Speights Dark.” Not
bad. I’d actually sounded casual. Our gazes met again. Suddenly my night was
brighter, more interesting and full of possibilities.

Lucas ordered the same for himself and a
glass of Chardonnay for his sister. “Why don’t you find us a table? Leticia, go
with Saul. I’ll bring the drinks over.”

Leticia glanced at me before turning back
to glare at her brother. “But—”

“Leticia, I’m not a child. I know what I’m
doing,” Lucas said. “Go.” He made a shooing motion with his hands and winked at
me.

Right. Okay. My heart pounded a fraction
harder. Inhaling deeply, I turned away, trying to control the powerful reaction
I felt for the shifter male. He was a fraction taller than me, but we had
similar builds—well-built and muscular without being bulky, according to my
feminine coworkers.

“There’s a table over by the wall.” I
sensed Leticia followed me, heard her rapid breathing, giving away her distress
and agitation.

I reached the table and turned, waiting for
Leticia to seat herself before I claimed a chair for myself. My mother hadn’t
raised a savage. I froze when I saw the tears in her beautiful brown eyes.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Please don’t do this. Please just go
before Lucas comes with the drinks. We don’t need this. We’ve gone through so
much.” She let out an inelegant hiccup and tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Please.”

Her plea tugged at my heartstrings but not
enough to walk away from the intriguing man whom I suspected was attracted to
me as much as I was enticed by him.

We stared at each other, neither willing to
back down.

“Stop trying to scare him away, Letty.”
Lucas’ dark and husky voice dragged a crop of goose bumps across my arms and
legs. My jeans and shirt abraded my skin, tugging over sensitive nerve endings
and making me squirm. Hot damn. This man was potent and I wanted him. I hoped
like hell I hadn’t misread the signs. I didn’t think so, but there was always a
chance.

“But, Lucas, we don’t need him.” Her voice
was pleading. Tears flooded her eyes again, lending them a liquid brilliance that
heightened her beauty.

Her obvious distress made me curious. I
wondered what the deal was with brother and sister. They were lions, a species
that generally stuck together in large prides.

“We could go home,” she whispered.

Lucas set the drinks on the table and
turned to his sister. “I’m sorry, Letty. It’s too late for us to go back. Too
late,” he repeated. Unspoken words ricocheted between them. Leticia looked away
first, nervous fingers fumbling for her glass of wine. Lucas walked around the
table and sat in the seat opposite me.