Pet Me
Pet Me
Amarinda Jones
When Drusilla Camm accidently kills Arthur, her niece’s wonky-eyed goldfish, she’s desperate to find a replacement. The only one to be found is the same one that a hot, hard-bodied man wants and he’s not about to give up. While this guy may be sex on a stick, Drusilla is determined to get that fish. As for the man, she might just have him as well.
Newspaper reporter Cormack Flint loves women and is rarely surprised by them—until he meets sexy Drusilla. Instantly in lust, he might just be persuaded to give up the fish if some sweaty sex is on offer.
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Pet Me
ISBN 9781419922725
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Pet Me Copyright 2010 Amarinda Jones
Edited by Helen Woodall
Photography and cover art by Les Byerley
Electronic book publication January 2010
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, 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.
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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.
PET ME
Amarinda Jones
Dedication
Inspiration comes to us in the strangest ways. Although I never met Lara Punches, her love of life and all creatures great and small inspired me to write this book. Some people, without knowing it, shed light and wisdom in simple, quiet ways and lead others on to achieve. Thank you, Lara.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Boy Scout: Boy Scouts of America Corporation
Technicolor: Technicolor Trademark Management Corporation
Prologue
The elastic snapped in her knickers as Cormack’s hands tugged the sheer lace down her legs.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Drusilla’s voice was breathless with excitement as she gripped his shoulders. “What the hell are we doing?” She was flat on her back on the cream upholstery of her car’s backseat. Her legs were akimbo and the most gorgeous man she had ever seen in her life had a loaded cock bobbing before her, looking for a place to call home.
Cormack threw her panties onto the rearview mirror. “You don’t know what we’re doing?” His eyes raked her body possessively.
A thrill of wildfire shot through Drusilla’s veins. “I know what this is.” Her legs were open and ready to receive. Never had she felt so exposed in her life. Her breasts ached pleasantly from the thorough sucking he had given them and all in all she felt fantastic. This is too good to be true. Things like this never happened to her.
“Then why the question?” Cormack hunched down and lifted her legs over his shoulders.
“This is crazy.” The car was too small, he was too big and it was in the middle of the day. But oh, how I want him…
Cormack leaned forward and licked her inner thigh in one long stroke.
Drusilla shivered. Oh yes… “We don’t know each other and er…” There had to be another reason but who could think when a hot tongue was making her shiver with anticipation?
“We have a mutual interest in Arthur.” His eyes were hot on hers.
No man had ever looked at Drusilla like that before. Maybe it wasn’t so crazy after all. Maybe it would be crazy not to take up what was on offer. “Arthur is a goldfish.” It was funny to think an argument over a fish had them in the backseat of her car half naked and ready to fuck each other’s brains out. Mental note. Fish are aphrodisiacs. Buy an aquarium.
“Arthur will be mine.”
“You could be a nice guy and let me have him.” It was a weird conversation to be having with a man whose head was in between her thighs.
Cormack smiled at her. “I want to give you something much better than a fish, honey.” His mouth dropped down to her pussy.
His eyes were so wonderfully wicked with promise. What fish? “Am I going to like it?”
“Oh yeah.” Cormack said no more as his mouth fastened on to her clit and sucked.
Drusilla choked back a scream of delight as her hands clutched at his shoulders. No one had ever sucked her there. She trembled as his lips and tongue devoured her. “What if someone sees us?” Don’t stop.
Cormack lifted his head. “I’m giving you mouth to mouth.”
“That’s not my mouth.”
“You talk a lot. I noticed that in the store.”
Drusilla’s hands stroked his broad shoulders. “Is it putting you off?”
“Oh no honey, I want in.” Cormack sank two fingers inside her pussy and began thrusting.
“Um…” Drusilla having trouble forming words. The steady pumping of his fingers made her more excited for the cock that grazed her thigh impatiently.
“Yes?”
“I don’t usually do this.”
“We’re going to do so much more than just this.” His eyes were intent on hers. “Are you ready for me?”
“Yes.” What other answer was there?
Chapter One
Fifteen minutes earlier
Drusilla Camm’s car swung into the parking lot of Brisbane Pet Haven. She was on a mission. Find the right goldfish before her niece got home from vacation. “How hard could it be to find a reddish, orange fish with a white spot on its left side and a wonky right eye?” Even as she said the words Drusilla knew it would be almost impossible. She suspected those characteristics alone had to be the reason why Arthur had died. “That or I overfed him.” But who knew how hungry a goldfish could be? “Maybe I didn’t feed him enough.” Bugger. Not that it mattered now. Arthur was in fish heaven and Drusilla had four hours to find a replacement fish.
She got out of the car and stalked into the shop. She had feigned illness to get off work early. It wasn’t a lie. Drusilla knew the high-pitched whine of her precocious ten-year-old niece would set her teeth on edge and give her a headache if she found out about poor, dead Arthur. “And she won’t. Who called a fish Arthur for cripes’ sake?”
Cute puppy dogs and fluffy kittens jumped around in their cages trying to attract her attention. The idea of caging anything was abhorrent to Drusilla but she wasn’t contemplating buying any of them anyway. She wasn’t good with pets. Look at poor Arthur. Besides Drusilla was focused on finding where the fish hung out. She had toyed with the idea of sitting her niece down and telling her the truth about Arthur but as much as she loved her niece, there was not enough alcohol on the planet to survive that. Like her mother, Hayley was very dramatic and liable to grow up to blame her slack-assed Aunt Drusilla for ruining her life.
“Yeah, better to lie,” Drusilla muttered to herself. “Why disappoint the kid at such a young age.” There was plenty of time for that later. Besides
Drusilla didn’t want Hayley thinking she could not be trusted to look after something as simple as a goldfish. Cheating was the only option to keep in good favor with her niece.
When she found the fish tanks Drusilla was gobsmacked. There were dozens of glass aquariums with what had to be hundreds of fish in all shapes and sizes. She stamped her feet as she was wont to do in frustration. “Frig, how do I find an Arthur look-alike?”
After spending what seemed like an hour, Drusilla stopped dead in front of one aquarium. “Bloody hell, it’s Arthur’s twin.” Okay, maybe it wasn’t his twin but to a desperate woman, with aching feet and the need for a glass or three of wine, it was very close to it. “White spot—check.” Only problem was it was on the right side. “Damn.” Drusilla contemplated the fish. The fish contemplated her through the glass. The right eye was wonky but then all fish eyes looked weird to her. Regardless, it was a good sign and she was pretty certain she could come up with a lie to explain the relocation of the white spot. The kid was ten. Surely Drusilla would be able to baffle her with some made-up, half-assed scientific fact regarding the movement of spots. “I know I can. I lie all the time to get out of work.” This would be easy.
Drusilla kept her gaze on the darting Arthur replacement and pressed the bell for staff assistance. The blue uniformed staff member came over to her, with another man following.
“I want this fish.” Her fingers slid erratically over the glass as she tried to keep track of the wonky-eyed fish.
“That’s the one I want,” declared the man coming to her side.
Oh, no fucking way. “What?” Drusilla turned on him. Tall, blond and irritatingly good-looking. He was the sort of man who got what he wanted. Well, not this time. “That’s my fish.” There had to be another four-dollar-and-twenty-cent orange fish he could buy.
“Says who?” Cormack Flint smiled at her, his green eyes alight with amusement.
“Me.” Thankfully for Drusilla she had dumped her salad and eaten a chocolate bar at lunch. Her hormones were calorie fuelled and ready to deal with a man who thought he could use charm to get what he wanted. That fish is mine.
The staff member backed away. “You two sort it out and I’ll come back.”
“Are you going to fight me for it, honey?”
Drusilla knew men like this expected women like her to be so dazzled by their beauty that they gave up the battle without a shot being fired. But Drusilla was not like most women. She had sworn off men after her lying, ratfink of a fiancé Wayne had slept with her ex-best friend and town slut Sharon twelve months ago. It’s ’cause she’s got a great body, babe. We both know you need to work out. Men—stupid or what? Ever since then, Drusilla viewed every man as her ex-fiancé. Maybe it wasn’t fair but it was safer that way. She didn’t have an ideal body. She knew that and closed up shop against them. Why men even persisted in pursuing her was beyond her. Couldn’t they see the “no touching” sign?
If Drusilla wasn’t so desperate for this particular fish, she knew she would just fight him on principle. He looked liked the type of man who got what he wanted. She was the type of woman who rarely did and, like an underdog, she wanted to score for her side. “No, you’re going to be a gentleman and let me have the fish.”
“Seriously?” Cormack leaned against the tank and watched her.
“Yes. Didn’t your mother teach you ‘ladies first’?”
“My mother taught me to survive at all costs and get what’s mine,” he responded. “That fish is mine.”
I really do not need this. “Why do you want it? It’s not like it’s the only one in the tank and it’s ugly.”
“Why do you want it?”
Right, she would play the good auntie, caring card and make him feel bad. “It’s for my niece.”
Cormack grinned. “Oh wait—let me guess. You killed your niece’s fish.” The man laughed at her expression. “Bad auntie.”
Drusilla stamped her feet. “No, it simply died.” Blond, annoyingly correct bastard.
“And you’re too chicken to tell her.”
“Why do you want it?” Why did a man as gorgeous as he was hang out in a pet store looking at wonky-eyed fish?
“It’s for my grandmother.”
Good one. That lie had pathos and added guilt factor in it to make the hardest heart surrender the fish. But not me. “I suppose she’s dying.”
The blond man nodded. “Yes.”
“Bullshit.” Drusilla called him on it.
“Okay it’s for my aquarium at home,” Cormack admitted, totally relaxed in his stance as he chatted to her. “Why the look of disbelief?”
“I was just wondering how many real men had aquariums.” Drusilla wanted to piss him off yet he just stood and smiled at her like she fascinated him.
“Do you want me to show you how real I am?”
Yes please. “Nah, I wouldn’t want you to deplete your testosterone store for me. You may need it to lift something later.” His husky chuckle sent a shiver down her spine. “Why do you want Arthur?”
“Arthur?” Cormack Flint was utterly captivated by the woman before him. She was like none he had ever met before. She made absolutely no attempt to flatter him or even be pleasant. That amused him. His eyes swept over her brown ponytailed hair and down to the cynical deep brown eyes that matched it. Cormack liked pissy women. They were so much more fun than those who agreed with his every word. And this one was even better and more desirable. She had a curvaceous body that made his cock jerk in anticipation of that first touch between them and he knew it would come. She was just the woman he was looking for. Hot, fiery and someone other women could identify with. But should I? She was perfect for the project he was working on.
“That’s his name.” Drusilla tapped the glass of the tank and Arthur dodged in the other direction.
“It could be a girl fish.” Not that he knew. Cormack was still amused by her inference that he was less of a man because he liked to collect fish. Actually he didn’t collect fish. It was an excuse to be at the pet store. It fit the article he was writing—Seven Ways to Meet Real Women. He knew it was bound to piss a lot of people off but then his daily column, Set in Stone, was designed to be controversial. People loved him. People hated him. The main thing was they kept reading him. This lady would be perfect for his story.
The pet store was just a way to meet women. Not that he needed it but Cormack wanted to show other men, his readers, that beautiful, desirable woman could be found anywhere and not to limit themselves to the clichéd bars and clubs where skinny, hyper-thin blondes hung out. He knew this lady had said what she had to annoy him but it’d had the opposite result. Cormack was finding himself bewitched by her. It was unusual that he wanted to instantly know everything about a woman. He loved women but none captured his interest straightaway. And yes, she was hot and sexy and excellent for the article he wanted to write but there was something more. This was the sort of woman he personally liked. The unpretentious, spit-in-your eye rather than agree with you type. Cormack liked feisty. Maybe the article could wait a while…
“How can you tell it’s a female?”
“Men know stuff.” Cormack did not have a clue but he was having fun fencing with her.
“Uh-huh,” Drusilla settled her hands on her hips and looked at him in disbelief.
Cormack’s eyes moved to her generously rounded hips. He could almost feel her plump thighs locked around his waist. “I like the unusual.” Cormack gave in and looked at her breasts as he had wanted to do all along. They were real women’s breasts, the outline of her nipples clear though the fabric of her shirt. He shifted his stance to give his tightening cock a chance to calm down. No other woman had ever had that instant effect on him. Cormack wanted to push her up against the glass tank and kiss her into submission.
“Arthur is my fish.”
As far as Cormack was concerned, this beauty could have anything she wanted—Arthur included. The quirky looking fish amused him but battling with her over what
was just a goldfish was more fun and the article was rapidly becoming more of a side issue.
“Okay then. Let’s settle this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin. “I’ll flip you for Arthur.”
Drusilla stamped her feet. “No, I never win coin tosses.”
Oh man, a foot stomper. The lady had passion. And I want to explore it. “Chicken?” Cormack knew the lady would not resist the challenge. This was the type of woman men should target. The strong, passionate ones and not the carefully manicured, stick-thin ladies who moaned dutifully on request when touched. A man needed more than that in his bed. He needed a real woman who wouldn’t care about breaking a fingernail or screaming.
“No,” Drusilla retorted. “So when I win you’ll walk away?”
No way. She could have the fish regardless of the toss. Cormack wanted her. He was not a great believer in love at first sight but lust was another matter. It could not be denied. “I can’t guarantee that. You’re kind of cute.”
“Kind of?”
Was he imagining it or was she interested in him as well? “Yeah, in that offbeat, pissy-goddess way.”
Drusilla arched her eyebrows. “Wow, you must have women fall at your feet with compliments like that.”
Cormack wanted to drop on his knees now and pull her to the floor and make love to her, pet shop or not. “I have had women on their knees before me.”
“What throwing up?”
Oh yeah, this one is mine. “I’m going to enjoy seeing you lose. Get ready to call it.” Cormack tossed the coin in the air.
“Heads.”
It came down tails. I win you.
Drusilla snorted. “Naturally, I never have any luck.”
“You’re not going to cry are you?” She didn’t look like a woman who was about to give up.