Seducing Cat [Meghan's Playhouse Book 1] Read online

  “Were you hoping to avoid me?” Caitlin jutted out her chin.

  “Not really,” Meg answered. “Actually I hoped we’d have some time together, but I thought you had a class.”

  “I do,” she muttered. “And I would be long gone if it weren’t for that reprobate of a contractor I’ve hired. He was supposed to start on the staircase an hour a go.”

  “Oh.” Meg sobered. “Something unexpected probably came up. He normally calls when he’s going to be late.”

  “He may call his lovers to make excuses, but he hardly bothers with his employers.”

  “You are pissed. You look so Irish when you get riled like that.” A smile crept across Meg’s lips. “Don’t blame Kurt for last night. That was my doing.”

  “I figured as much,” Caitlin squared her shoulders, “but it didn’t look like he was backing off any.”

  “No, I’m not sure retreat ever enters his mind.” Meg stuck her tongue out at her, nearly bursting with excitement. “By the way, speaking of retreat, why didn’t you stop us as soon as you entered the Green Room if you didn’t want to watch?”

  “What?” Caitlin’s throat constricted. She’d been trapped.

  “Did it require three to four minutes to figure out what we were doing?” Meg chuckled softly and flashed an eyebrow. “I know you don’t suffer from poor eyesight so I’m glad you enjoyed the show. You’ve would’ve seen a lot more if you’d been just a wee bit more patient.”

  “Well I,” Caitlin stammered. “I…”

  “It’s okay, Cat. Sometimes it’s hard to find the right words to express an emotion. Why don’t you run off to class and I’ll tell Kurt where you’ve gone when he arrives? I’m sure he has a lot to do without you.”

  “I’m sure he does.” She grabbed her briefcase and headed for the hallway. She stopped short and turned back to face Meg, who studied her intently. “Why didn’t you cover up when I caught you last night? You never did, you know.”

  “Of course I know. I liked how your eyes admired my swollen nipples. And I knew if I stood there long enough yours would pebble in response. And they certainly did, delightfully, you know.”

  Caitlin frowned and shook her head. “I’ve got to run,” she said, as a way of explaining dashing down the hallway toward the garage.

  Her trembling fingers finally got the key in the ignition and then she laid her forehead on the steering wheel and sobbed. What was happening to her? She’d never been the least bit attracted to a woman. Not before.

  Caitlin wasn’t totally naïve. Petite, innocent Meg wanted to take her to her bed. Meg’s nipples had made that clear last night. They had hardened more parading in front of her than they had for Kurt. And she knew Meg wasn’t lying. Her own nipples had cried out their pain and desire.

  She’d wanted her mouth where Kurt’s was. She’d wanted to lick Meg’s breasts and chew on her nipples until the young woman screamed. She’d wanted to taste her lips. Did Meg smile when she kissed?

  Caitlin scowled and wet her lips. That wasn’t all she wanted to taste. If Meg had pulled her zipper down any more last night, she wasn’t at all certain what she would’ve done: run as fast as she could, or kick Kurt out and take over in his stead?

  She shook her head and rubbed her temples. There was no time to sort this out now.

  Caitlin started the engine and fortunately looked in the rearview mirror before backing up. She hadn’t bothered to open the garage door. What else had she forgotten to do?

  * * * *

  “You look chipper this morning.” Kurt took his tape measure from his belt loop and began measuring the staircase while trying to discern Meg’s mood. She had every right to be pissed at him.

  “Don’t I always?” Meg chirped.

  He threw a sidewise glance at Meg, who was sitting atop the dining room table as if it were hers. “Thought you might be a little irked with me for just dropping you off last night. I wasn’t in the mood.”

  “No problem.” She giggled; apparently she harbored no ill feelings. “You were hardly missed.”

  Kurt chuckled. “I’m sure you found a toy or two to fill in for me.”

  “Quite nicely, actually.” She hopped to the floor. “But that’s not why I’m feeling on top of the world.”

  “Oh.” He straightened and looked directly at her. “So why?”

  “Oh,” she said, pursing her lips. “Our delightful professor is nearly ready to explore this perky little body that you know so well.” She did a three-sixty, holding her arms out wide.

  “You’re kidding!” His tape measure snapped back into its casing. “Damn,” he grumbled.

  She gave him an uncharacteristically stern look. “Would I kid about such a thing?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “No, I don’t suppose so. So you’ve got her primed?”

  “Yep. Last night did the trick. She may want to taste me about as much as I want to taste her. I’m sure I had her creaming her panties before she left this morning, and I was fully clothed.”

  “How unlike you!” Kurt laughed and returned to his work. He glanced back up at her. “So should I be wishing you luck?”

  “Luck never hurts.” Meg bounced from foot to foot. “Particularly the luck of the Irish. I can hardly wait.”

  Kurt moved halfway up the stairs before stopping to measure another casing. He didn’t really care to hear more about Meg’s conquest of the professor. It wasn’t that he was jealous; he simply had no need to know. “You may have to learn some patience someday, kid.”

  “Speaking of patience,” she replied. “I’m not sure how long it will take before I can include you. She may not take easily to threesomes.”

  “What?” He bounded back down the stairs and towered over Meg. Her smile never wavered. “I’m not part of your adventure with the professor, remember? You’re on your own.”

  “I hear you.”

  He scowled at her practiced innocence. “But you don’t believe me?”

  “Those are your words. Not mine.”

  He turned his back on her and retraced his steps up the stairs. “Don’t go telling me what you think I think.”

  “I won’t,” she piped. “But you might want to have a man-to-man talk with your cock one of these days. He grew huge when Cat stepped out of the shadows last night.”

  Kurt didn’t bother to respond and exhaled through compressed lips when he heard Meg closing the door to the backyard behind her. She was right about one thing. His erection had grown painful last night. He still wondered why Caitlin Shanahan had taken so long to show herself when she’d entered the Green Room.

  He’d been relieved when she’d finally spoken. Meg might not have any problems with fucking in front of the professor, but he sure as hell did.

  * * * *

  After tossing one way and then the other, Caitlin sat up and pounded her pillows. She peeked at the clock and groaned. Nearly two in the morning, and she hadn’t slept at all.

  She stared at the bedroom door. Why did she want to cry?

  She’d half expected a soft knock on her door. Meg had the key to the rest of the house in case of an emergency.

  Caitlin shivered. Did the heat coursing through her body constitute an emergency?

  What would she have done if Meg had tapped on her door? She’d struggled with that question for the last couple hours. She’d like to believe she would’ve rebuffed Meg’s overtures firmly but kindly. But would she have? Would she ever know for certain?

  She hugged herself. What was happening to her? Had she been that long without a man? Thoughts of sex seldom crowded her mind. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy sex—it just wasn’t a significant part of her life. She could take it or leave it. Lately, she’d left it to others.

  Fantasizing about a woman? Several of her friends were gay or bi, but that was them, not her. She’d never thought of herself being involved with any of them sexually. That simply wasn’t her.

  She shook her head. It wasn’t a matter of judgment. She knew many of her colleagues thought of her as too critical. Yes, she had standards about teaching, grading and publishing. But she never judged the sexual lifestyles of others. For the most part she remained oblivious to what many saw as a highly sexually charged world around her. She’d probably been hit on by co-eds and males, but her antennae had seldom noticed.

  She wasn’t oblivious anymore. She’d certainly noticed Meg. How could she not?

  What was she going to do with her boarder? Meg was too young and too effervescent. Caitlin pinched the bridge of her nose. Even Meg’s constant enthusiasm wore on her.

  Caitlin rolled over and tucked a pillow under her stomach. It was as if the sirens of her ancestry were calling her from across the curtain dividing the worlds, calling her to a mystery beyond her comprehension. Since when had her loins become her source for embracing mystery instead of her brain?

  Meg. Her loins clinched. Why was she making this so complicated? Meg wanted her. She wanted Meg. There were no expectations beyond the wanting. Meg wasn’t looking for anything lasting, and neither was she.

  But she did want to love and be loved, even if for a night. Her eyes widened. She’d never wanted to admit even to herself that she wanted—no, that she needed—love in her life.

  Wasn’t that what Meg was offering? Not the complex love of long term commitment, but the simplicity of sharing body and soul in the moment.

  Had she ever really lived in the moment? There were always plans, goals and strategies. Meg was different. She appeared like a modern Aphrodite offering herself freely with no demands, promising only bliss.

  Her hips pressed against the pillow. Meg. Why didn’t you come to me?

  She interlocked her fingers and rested her forehead on them as her hips increased their rhythm. The bed cr
eaked. She slammed into the pillow until she was exhausted. She breathed shakily and let out a sad little laugh. So much for fantasies. It would take more than that for her to respond.

  She rolled on her side into a tuck position. Why hadn’t she climaxed? Had she lost that capacity, too? She fell into a fitful sleep.

  Caitlin tried to breathe evenly. She was sinking. Water filled her ears and her nostrils. She locked her mouth shut trying to avoid the water. With her eyes closed she reached out for something, anything to grab on to. There. She grasped the branch firmly. She tried to pull herself up on it. It moved of its own accord, lifting her to safety. The branch emerged from the mists. Goodness, it was his cock.

  She choked awake. Good God, she was losing her mind. Kurt’s cock had saved her from her ghastly nightmare. She shuddered. Which was worse: the nightmare, or trying to understand why the penis of her nemesis jutted out of the fog of her unconsciousness to save her?

  She sure as hell didn’t need a man to save her from Meg or from anything else. If she ever did go searching for a hero, it definitely would not be the young brawny cocksman, Kurt Davis.

  If she had enough courage, she’d go to Meg right now. This sexual morass had to be resolved. She willed herself to get out of bed and to climb the stairs to Meg’s bedroom. But her muscles failed to respond. She fell back into an unfulfilling, fitful sleep.

  * * * *

  The next morning Caitlin glared at Kurt’s backside as he replaced a stair step. How could her dream state betray her so? She’d grabbed hold of his cock as if it was her last chance for survival. It had felt so real—so fleshy, so substantial.

  “You seem to be the typical absent minded professor this morning.” Kurt’s deep voice sliced through her reverie.

  “What?” Cripes, he’d caught her fantasizing about his cock, of all things. She shook her head to clear her mind. There was no way he could fathom that.

  He rocked back on his heels to peer at her. “You usually don’t hang around and watch me work. I doubt you find me that interesting. So your mind must’ve wandered off somewhere.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She rubbed her throbbing neck. “You’re right. I got caught up in remembering something. It was of no consequence.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” he chuckled lightly. “No problem, though. I’ve heard it happens with age.”

  “You,” she sputtered, “I’m not exactly over the hill yet.”

  Kurt stood and grinned. “I didn’t say that. But you sure are touchy this morning. Didn’t you sleep well last night?”

  Hoping she wasn’t blushing, Caitlin took the offensive. “How I sleep isn’t any of your damn business.” She didn’t wait for a reply but spun around and rushed toward the safety of the kitchen.

  * * * *

  Kurt watched the redhead’s rear sway rhythmically as she dashed off. Frowning, he returned to his work. What kind of a buzz saw had he walked into this morning?

  She’d wanted to spit bullets at him before he’d spoken a word. He’d never seen her so appealing. He frowned. Meg might be partially right: the professor did have more passion than he realized. At least she had a temper—but then, she was Irish.

  He grinned. Meg would let him know whether or not the professor possessed any sexual passion.

  So, maybe that’s why Shanahan was so on edge. Maybe Meg was getting to her. That could explain the electricity she’d exhibited. He re-measured the stair step and chuckled softly. This could get interesting.

  What would she have to say if she knew Meg was attempting to play Aphrodite? Well, sort of. Did the professor know her Roman mythology? Aphrodite gave willingly of her body to many a lover, male and female. She moved easily from lover to lover, spreading her zeal for all matters of sex.

  He placed a pencil behind his ear and glanced toward the kitchen. More to the point, what would the professor do if she knew that her Aphrodite—Meg—wanted to hook her up with him?

  She might faint. She might go berserk. But she’d certainly react negatively. She wouldn’t want to go to bed with a working stiff like him. She’d believe he wasn’t her equal intellectually, or in any other way. Besides, she’d think he was way too young for her.

  He grabbed his hammer and paused. He knew better than to try to do this kind of interior work when distracted or pissed. While he wasn’t particularly angry with Meg or his employer, he had to admit he was distracted by what was going on between the two women.

  Kurt carried the board out to the backyard where he’d set up his saw. Meg could continue directing her erotic drama. And it looked like the lady of the house was primed to assume a lead role. But he wasn’t about to accept any part of Meg’s play. No way!

  The damn professor was too stuck up, too judgmental and too old. He shifted the bulge forming in his jeans. Why the hell didn’t his cock agree with his assessment?

  He placed the board on the saw guide and glanced back at the house. Reluctantly, he admitted he wouldn’t mind watching the two women go at each other. That might be fun.

  Would Cat be as unresponsive as the board he was preparing to cut? Or would she be the tempest Meg expected? When had he started using Meg’s pet name for her?

  Seducing Cat [Meghan's Playhouse Book 1]

  Chapter 3

  Collecting her lecture notes, Caitlin scrutinized the students leaving the lecture hall. Many of them were older than Meg. She shuddered. Why couldn’t she think of anything besides Meg Keenan?

  At least it was Friday. Tomorrow she wouldn’t have to face her students wondering how many of the co-eds had shared their bodies with females. Had any of them fantasized about her? Wasn’t that a rather common fantasy of college students?

  She hadn’t seen Meg all day. Her heart skipped a beat. Meg would certainly be at the evening rehearsal. Caitlin craned her head from side to side trying to root out the tension in her neck. She’d better get moving. She didn’t want to be late for her meeting with her set designer.

  Friday. Damn. Did that mean she’d have to lie in bed listening to Meg and Kurt screwing their brains out all weekend?

  * * * *

  After the rehearsal, Caitlin sat in her cramped theater office scribbling thoughts about marketing. She enjoyed the creative aspects of playwriting much more than marketing the finished product.

  She leaned back in the straight-backed chair and stretched. She yawned. Maybe she should go home, but she wasn’t looking forward to the squeaking bed above her, or to Meg’s squeals of orgasmic delight.

  Her meeting with Kurt about set design had gone reasonably well. He could be quite creative and when he wanted he could actually be reasonably pleasant. He’d even come up with a helpful suggestion for the blocking in the second act.

  Rehearsal had gone smoothly—maybe too smoothly. They were still two weeks away from opening night. The last thing she needed was for the cast to get overly confident. She wanted them ready, but with an edge. Overconfidence usually resulted in flat productions.

  “Cat!”

  Caitlin stepped out into the foyer to see Meg dashing toward her holding out a newspaper and grinning from ear to ear.

  “What is it?”

  “We’re in the paper,” Meg said breathlessly. “Both of us.”

  “Let me see.” Caitlin scanned the article. “Sure enough. This is the best marketing we could hope for.”

  “Weren’t you interviewed for this piece?”

  Caitlin smiled at the glee on Meg’s face. “Yes, I’d forgotten. I didn’t think much about it at the time. I thought the reporter was doing some background stuff that she might use at some point in the future.”

  Meg hugged herself and whirled about. “Well, the future is now! Do you really think I’m an exceptional actress?”

  “I said it, didn’t I?” Caitlin knew it probably wasn’t the right moment, but she forged ahead anyway. “You could go a long way if you’d go to a drama school. It could be a conservatory or a college. You just need some polishing and better coaching than I can provide.”

  “You’re an excellent coach, Cat. You inspire me and give me so much. I don’t want anybody else.” Meg’s smiled beamed as much warmth as the sun. “I only want you.”

  Caitlin’s thanks never escaped her lips because they were covered by Meg’s. The young woman’s soft lips tasted of mint. They weren’t insistent, but were filled with invitation and desire.