The Male Stripper (7 page)

"Hey, fur-ball. Do you miss Marie?"

The cat tipped its head in the way it did when it wanted Ty to scratch the side of its chin. Ty scratched the sweet spot as he walked into the kitchen.

"She’ll be back tonight."

He placed the cat on the tile floor and retrieved the can opener from the drawer beside the sink, then opened the last can of food from the supply Marie had left on the granite counter. At the sound of the can opening, the cat rubbed against his legs, meowing loudly. Once Ty placed the bowl on the floor, the critter began eating noisily. He poured himself a glass of orange juice, then leaned against the counter and watched the cat devour its meal.

He’d never really liked cats before—too damned snooty—but then, he’d never really gotten to know a cat before.

And then there was its owner.
Marie.
From the first moment he’d met her six months ago, he’d known he was in love with her.

Problem was, she was already dating someone. Until a month ago.

When that idiot had walked out on her and broken her heart, Ty had been there. A shoulder to cry on. Every day for the past four weeks, he’d wanted to drag her into his arms and kiss her breathless, to show her exactly how he felt about her, but he hadn’t. She’d needed a friend and that’s what he’d been.

But now was the time to move forward. To tell her how he felt about her. Not completely, of course. She would probably run away screaming. With a woman like Marie, he needed to move slowly. He needed to be subtle. Tell her he was interested in her. Ask her out. Gently coax her into falling in love with him.

And keep the beast inside him in careful check.

Every time he closed his eyes, every time he thought about holding her in his arms, her warm curvy body nestled against his, his body reacted with a fierce passion. His groin flooded with heat and his cock grew as rigid as a night-stick. Next came images of her arms bound above her head, her ankles held wide apart, sending his senses whirling. He longed to tear off her clothes, then explore every silky inch of her well-proportioned body.

He trembled as the natural Dominant in him longed to command her to drop to her knees and free his cock, then draw it into her sweet mouth and suck it deep. To hear her call him
Master.
He almost groaned out loud at the thought.

But he wouldn’t do that to Marie.

Five years ago, it would have been a different story. Although he’d left behind the young ruffian from the streets, he’d allowed himself to keep that side of his nature in the bedroom. Dominating his women. Capturing them. Binding them.
Mastering
them. Whatever it was that appealed to each woman. All role-playing, of course. And every woman left quite happy with the experience.

But after the incident with his
supposed
best friend, he’d decided to leave that part of his life behind. Too many links to people better forgotten.

At a sound from the hallway, he jerked around, then smiled as he saw a sleepy-looking Marie leaning against the door frame, her shiny brown hair deliciously mussed and her sky blue eyes only partially open. She wore an oversized yet very enticing T-shirt, which draped nicely over her sensational body, and revealed most of her long shapely legs. Clearly, she wore nothing underneath but a thong. Or maybe regular panties, but he preferred to believe it was a thong. Or nothing. All he really knew for sure was no bra. His gaze dropped to her puckering nipples and his heart rate doubled.

She grabbed the orange juice from the fridge and filled a small glass, then took a sip. She leaned back against the counter beside him.

"Why’d you and Sylvia decide to cut the weekend short?"

She shrugged. "I just felt like getting back."

Her evasive manner told him there was clearly more to it than that.

Whatever the reason, she was here now, and he was anxious to move forward with his plan to win her heart.