Home > Hosed (Happy Cat #1)(12)

Hosed (Happy Cat #1)(12)
Author: Pippa Grant, Lili Valente

“Ryan, I need to tell you something,” Cassie says as I urge her thighs to either side of my hips.

“Yeah?”

She straddles me, the seam of her shorts pressing against where I’m already hard, and I fight a groan. Her breath hitches as I slip my hand beneath the hem of her shirt.

“Um…nothing. It’s nothing,” she says.

“Are you sure?” I cup her breast through her spandex bra, head spinning as she arches into my touch, silently giving me permission to keep doing what I’m doing.

“Yes,” she whispers, then, “Oh, yes,” shivering as I brush my thumb over the tight peak straining the thin fabric.

“I want to see you, Cassie.” I capture her nipple between my finger and thumb, rolling gently. “I want to kiss you everywhere.”

She nods and reaches for the bottom of her shirt in response. I help her whip her clothes over her head—first her tee shirt, then her bra—and in mere moments I’m cupping her breasts reverently in both hands. She’s stunning, so breathtaking it takes a beat for my tongue to remember how to make words and then a beat longer to decide words are a waste at a time like this.

I lean in, kissing first one dusky pink tip and then the other, circling the taut flesh with my tongue before sucking her gently into my mouth.

“Oh my God, Ryan.” Cassie’s fingers thread into my hair, pulling me close as her head falls back. “Oh my God.”

I groan against her softness and suckle her deeper as she grinds against me, every roll of her hips making me hotter, harder, until I can barely breathe, barely think. There is nothing in my head but Cassie—her salt and flower scent, the sexy sounds she makes as I transfer my attention to her other perfect breast, the way her arms tremble on either side of my face as she digs her fingernails into the skin at the back of my neck and her breath comes faster.

I’m about to ask if I can carry her down the hall—to my bedroom, to my bed, where I intend to show her just how good my tongue can make other parts of her feel—when it happens.

One second I’m kissing Cassie’s incomparable breasts while she rides me through our clothes, and the next a large, heavy, Unidentified Falling Object plops down between us with a high-pitched squeal.

Suddenly, my mouth is full of fur and chaos is breaking out on the couch.

Cassie screams, I grunt, and the psychotic fur ball wedged between us chitters in panic, raking his claws down my throat and trying to get off my lap by going through my face. Cassie cries out again and scrambles off my lap and I’m left with a fat-ass, mood-killing raccoon curled around my shoulders like a mink stole.

George’s tail is in my mouth, and both of his clawed hands cover my eyes, obstructing the view of Cassie grabbing her clothes from the floor.

By the time I coax the furry beast off my head and off the couch, Cassie’s shirt is back on and she’s dashing across the living room.

“I’m sorry,” I say, standing up fast. “I don’t know what got into him. He must have fallen asleep up there and then decided he was ready to get down the fast way.”

“On the fan?” Cassie says with a tight laugh.

“He did it once before. No idea how he gets up there.” I shoot George a hard look as he winds around my leg and sits down on my foot, impeding my progress toward Cassie with his stubborn bulk. “But I’ll figure it out. Please, don’t go.”

“I have to,” she says, motioning toward the front door as she continues to back away. “I have a thing. Work thing. In the morning. I should go and get some sleep. But thank you. For today. It was wonderful.”

“It was. But are you sure you have to go? It’s not even eight o’clock.”

“Yeah. Busy day tomorrow,” she says, grabbing her keys off the entry table. “Lots of things to lube.” She winces. “I mean to do. Sorry, I have to go. Now.” With a frantic wave and a promise to “call soon” tossed over her shoulder, she slams out my front door into the night, leaving me with a hard-on for her that won’t quit and a cock-blocking raccoon grinning up at me in a way that makes it obvious he has no shame.

None. At all.

Eleven

From the texts of Cassie Sunderwell and

Savannah Sunderwell

* * *

Cassie: I have a problem.

* * *

Savannah: Crap, I totally forgot to mention that the coffeemaker has its own water supply. So sorry! I thought you knew. Don’t worry about the mess. Text Tina and tell her to charge the cleanup to my account. She should be there sometime next week for the normal monthly cleaning too.

* * *

Cassie: No, not with the coffeemaker. I’m proficient in coffeemaker. ALL coffeemakers.

* * *

Savannah: Phew. Good. I know how much you love your coffee. Oh, no, I mentioned the rocks, but I think I forgot to mention George Cooney too. Did he sneak in the window and steal your pajamas? That little cutie is a sucker for silk, which is only awkward when he tries to wear it. Not that he shouldn’t be free to explore his own fashion sense and sexuality, but we’re nowhere near the same size.

* * *

Cassie: Um, not George. Exactly. I mean, George is fine. In an annoying kind of way, but he’s…yeah.

* * *

Savannah: Please don’t tell me it’s Olivia. Her chart readings always get dark around the new moon phase. Whatever she said, I promise it’s not that bad.

* * *

Cassie: Aww, listen to you! You miss Happy Cat, don’t you?

* * *

Savannah: No. Yes. Maybe. I mean, I miss the people. The people who aren’t lying cheating sheep-lovers. *sheep emoji* *broken heart emoji* *knife emoji* And I miss the blissful ignorance of not knowing I was married to one. And that time before people thought I would lie about a man compromising a sheep. But I’ve discovered I love tea time and scones. And being in a place where people don’t recognize me. And sleeping in until eight.

* * *

Cassie: Eight at NIGHT?

* * *

Savannah: No, silly. Eight in the morning. Who sleeps until eight at night?

* * *

Cassie: Who thinks sleeping until eight in the morning is SLEEPING IN?

* * *

Savannah: LOL – you’re such a night owl. I love that about you. And I miss you most. You’re the sun in my sunshine. *sun emoji*

* * *

Cassie: I miss you too. You’re the mega in my byte. *binary emoji*

* * *

Savannah: Okay, my little dove. Tell me about this problem so I can be a useful sister. Do you need advice on what size dildo to grab?

* * *

Cassie: No. I have a real life penis problem. Ryan O’Dell kissed me. And then some. But not…all the way.

* * *

Savannah: Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. *barf emoji*

* * *

Cassie: It wasn’t barfy at all. It was pretty amazing, actually. If I hadn’t freaked out when George fell off the ceiling fan, I probably wouldn’t be a virgin anymore, which is weirdly scary. But exciting. But also scary! Because what the hell is going on with my life all of a sudden? With the fancy coffee and the romantic bike rides and the zip-lining and the “you’re beautiful every day” stuff? I swear, I am so confused right now.

* * *

Savannah: I don’t understand half of that, but I’m buying George all the candy and broken dildos in the world to thank him.

* * *

Cassie: WHAT? Why? I thought you WANTED me to experience sexual pleasure, not to get cockblocked by a trash panda!

* * *

Savannah: Oh, honey, I do. I do! But not with RYAN.

* * *

Cassie: I know, I hated him in high school after Romeo-and-Juliet-Gate, but that was a big misunderstanding. We’ve both grown up a lot since then, and he was so sweet when he took me on a tour of town this morning. And he thinks I’m funny and I have so much fun with him and then he kissed me, and I liked it. And then we went a little further, and I liked it more, and then…Raccoonus Interruptus.

* * *

Savannah: No! Oh, Cassie, just no. No kissing. PLEASE DO NOT KISS RYAN AGAIN.

* * *

Cassie: Why? OMG. He has a girlfriend, doesn’t he? And I’m the last one to know. Of course. Or—OMG, does he secretly like sheep too?

* * *

Savannah: Cassie. He’s a MAN. With a PENIS. *angry profanity emoji* *eggplant emoji* *knife emoji*

* * *

Cassie: Well, yes. I noticed. I REALLY noticed, believe me. But does he have a girlfriend? Or some creepy, top-secret fetish I should know about?

* * *

Savannah: Penises – peni? – are BAD.

* * *

Cassie: So no girlfriend? Or sheep friend? Other farm animal friend? Please tell me that he and George are just pals. PLEASE. Or I won’t be able to sleep tonight.

* * *

Savannah: Ryan O’Dell is a normal, healthy, kind, smart, caring, responsible person who had the unfortunate luck to have been born a male of the species, a condition for which there is currently no cure. So please, dearest sister, PLEASE get thee to a dildo. Dildos can’t hurt you. I mean, maybe if you forget the lube and aren’t in the mood, they might, but they’re not going to savage your soul with their betrayal. The dildos still want to help. And they won’t get jealous if you throw a vibrator into the mix. Which, by the way, I also have a stash of unopened vibrators in the bottom drawer in the vanity. Help yourself to those too.

* * *

Cassie: So to clarify, your objection is ONLY that he’s a man, and not that you have evidence that he’s a BAD man?

* * *

Savannah: If you HAD to choose a man, you couldn’t choose a better one. However, you DON’T have to choose a man. You can choose to embrace the power to provide your own happiness, satisfaction, and orgasms. You have to love yourself first and most, Cassie. If you love someone else first or most, you’ll lose yourself. And then you’ll find yourself twenty pounds later after a torrid love affair with English tea and scones and wonder if you’ll ever fit back into a size eight. But you can love yourself WITHOUT ever having to go through all that pain, suffering, and scone-induced hip-spreading.

   
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