Catnip Crazy

The Cat House 2: Catnip Crazy Julia Talbot All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2008 Julia Talbot

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The Cat House 2: Catnip Crazy Julia Talbot Cole Lee owns half of the Cat House, and lately he seems to own all the troubles that come along with running the club. Now someone is dead, there are cop are all over the place, and the press coverage is going to be bad for business, Cole can tell. The one good thing about this whole mess is meeting cop Alan Shaw. Alan can’t seem to resist Cole, even though he knows he should be working the case. The chemistry between them makes Alan and Cole both take stupid chances, and it might just blind them to the danger they still face. Can they solve the case and still make time to get to know each other in the best possible way?

Chapter One The club was thumping busy. The tacky neon pink-and-black leopard printed booths glowed, the dancing kitties were all thirsty enough to keep the bartenders running, and the volume of talk and laughter drowned out anything Layla had to say to him. That worked for Cole. In spades. “So, are you happy about the take tonight, honey?” Layla shouted the question above the music, her cream-licking smile telling him she knew he really didn’t want to talk. “Of course. You know me, honey. I’m all about the bottom line.” Layla might be about matchmaking and happiness and feng whatever, but Cole was all about the profit. That was the whole reason their partnership at the Cat House was a success. He handled the cash. Layla handled the customers. Her nose wrinkled at him ever so slightly. If she’d had her cat whiskers and her tail they would have twitched. “I have someone I want you to meet, Cole. I think you’ll like her.” Cole rolled his eyes, trying hard not to make rude noises. “Uh-huh. I saw what your matchmaking did to Bay. Almost got him killed.” His friend Bay, who was a decent guy even if he was a werewolf, had taken on some serious trouble with the two werekitties that Layla had hooked him up with. If Cole had ever pondered letting her fix him up, Bay’s situation had cured him of the notion. “They’re very happy now,” Layla shot back, sniffing. “Sure they are. Too bad he had to go through kidnapping and shit to get there. I can find my own fun.”

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“You never have any fun, love. That’s the problem.” “Just let me… What the hell is that?” Cole stood, slipping into the crowd, leaving Layla demanding to know what was going on. He’d swear he’d seen a flash of tail in the crowd, and he didn’t mean the kind covered in Spandex or lace. While pretty much everyone who came to the club was a little more, or less, than human, everyone knew they had to be as normal as possible inside the main bar. He reached the section of the dance floor he was aiming for in about three seconds, but there was no spotted tail, no one furry. The dancers ignored him, and no one had their hackles up, so maybe he’d imagined it. Cole wasn’t really given to flights of fancy though, so he kept looking. There. Just by the corridor that led to the bathrooms. There was a flash of brown and black, waving like a little flag. Cole shook off Layla who had caught up with him, growling at her a little. “Get up to security and watch the monitors for the hall.” Without waiting to see if she obeyed, Cole headed back to the restrooms, trying to work through the scents there to find something off. It wasn’t an easy job. It was all over but the shouting by the time he got to the men’s room. He knew the moment he opened the door that something was terribly wrong. The acrid stench of blood hit him, the quantity huge to make that much of a stink. Cole’s foot slipped in something, his shoe sliding along the tile. Shit. The lights flickered to life when he flipped the switch, and he saw the body, feet sticking out from under the door of the one stall, a trail of blood all the way across the floor under the urinals and sinks. The only exit was a high window, and it flapped open, the lock broken, the paint seal around the edge cracked. Cole pulled out his cell phone to call 911. They’d close the club down for at least one night to pull evidence. Damn it. So much for his bottom line.

***

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Detective Alan Shaw stared at the two club owners through the open office door, ignoring the clatter and chatter of the team collecting evidence from the club. They’d corralled all of the folks in the bar in the empty warehouse next door, questioning them before letting them go. So far, none of them showed any physical evidence of being anywhere near the vic when he died, except the male business partner. He had blood on the bottom of his shoe. Both of the owners had this slinky, catlike sensuality to them, which Alan guessed suited the name of the club. The lady looked like one of those poofy, highmaintenance cats with the diamond collars. All big hair and gaudy clothes, with painted lips that made him stare in a kind of horrified fascination. The guy, well, he looked more like a mountain lion or something. All lean muscle in a sleek pair of wool trousers and a white silk shirt, with dark blond hair and green eyes. He had the look of a predator. A hunter. Alan thought the guy was hot as hell. He really needed to work on having a thing for the suspects. Really, really. Sighing, he hauled his notebook out of his pocket and headed into the office, wishing the uniforms had done their job and separated the club owners so they wouldn’t have had a chance to talk to one another. “Hey, folks. My name is Detective Shaw. Looks like you’re having a rough night.” His “aw shucks” demeanor usually put people at ease, which was a damned good thing. Alan knew his size and hard features scared the dickens out of a lot of the people he interviewed. Hell, if he was faced with him at a crime scene, he might be nervous too, since he topped out at six-three and two-fifty of solid muscle. The lady lifted a languid hand. “I’m Layla. This is Cole. And yeah, it’s been a stinker.” Her body language warred with the words. She looked like she might just have a nap, curled up in her chair like she was, her heavily lined eyes droopy.

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“I bet. So, what can you tell me about the incident? You said you saw something, Mr. Lee?” Cole nodded, bright green eyes narrowing on him, weighing him. Usually that was Alan’s job, so it was a strange sensation. “I thought I saw someone… unusual,” Cole said. “So I followed the person to the men’s room. Got there too late, though. Never seen the dead guy before.” “Not a regular, then?” “No.” Alan turned to the lady. Layla. “You said something to one of my men about a security tape?” “Yes.” She yawned, looking for all the world like a toothy house cat. “We don’t tape in the bathrooms, unfortunately. I do have footage of the hall, though.” “And?” “I gave it to one of the policemen. I checked it at the time, like Cole told me to, but what you can see of the person, well, it just looks like someone in a bad Halloween costume.” “I see. Anything you want to add, ma’am?” “No. No, that’s all.” “You’re free to go then, as long as you give one of my men all of your contact information.” Cole Lee rolled to his feet, offering the woman a hand up. “What about me?” “I need to ask you a few more questions, since you were the first one on the scene. I’d like to talk with you alone, if you don’t mind.” Layla’s bright eyes stared at him, curious as anything. “Why?” “It will keep you from diluting his statement, ma’am. One-on-one interviews are much more productive.” “One-on-one. Oh, Cole’s good at that. G’night, gentlemen.” She sailed out the door to the office with a little wave of her lacquered fingernails, leaving a trail of perfume.

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“That’s some business partner you have, Mr. Lee.” Cole smiled, going to the little bar behind the desk and pouring a Scotch. “You have no idea. She’s a hoot.” “So…” He cleared his throat, as it felt like the temperature in the room had risen since they were left alone. “What else can you tell me about the crime, Mr. Lee?” “If you don’t call me Cole, I won’t tell you anything.” Cole sucked back the Scotch before smiling and waving a hand. “I saw someone out of place. I went to see what they were doing.” “Someone out of the ordinary? What does that mean?” He got a long look. “It means that while we cater to a certain clientele, we don’t allow them to go furry on the dance floor.” Alan blinked. “Furry.” Surely the guy didn’t mean what he thought the guy meant. Oh, he’d heard, when he came to town, that things could be a little… different here. Still, in two years he’d never run into anything remotely bogeyman-like. “Yeah. Meow. Teeth? Claws?” Cole moved in close, kind of invading his space. “Do you believe in things that go bump in the night, Detective?” “Not really. I mean, I’ve been told to expect weirdness on this job, but I just figure that’s the guys telling tales.” “Ah. Well, you might be surprised.” Okay, if he wasn’t mistaken, the guy was sniffing him. Oh, not in an obvious way, but sniffing, nonetheless. Alan’s whole body went tight and hot, his nipples drawing up with every breath that brushed the skin at the side of his neck. “Not much surprises me,” Alan said, even though the words directly contradicted how he was feeling. “So, you saw someone, er, furry, and went after them?” “I did. Missed them though. They went out the window before I got there.” Cole trailed long fingers down his arm, and Alan almost jumped out of his skin. That was enough with the touching. Really, really enough, despite what Alan’s cock was telling him all of a sudden.

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It was telling him it liked Cole touching him, liked Cole being close. Alan had to clear his throat. “Well. It’s probably a good thing then, if the perp is that dangerous.” The window had been left open, the seal shattered, and there were no Cole-sized footprints anywhere out there. No human footprints had been found at all, at least not fresh ones, and there was plenty of grossness in the alley behind the club. Something should have shown. Something besides big old cat tracks. Didn’t mean the guy wasn’t still a suspect. God knew, he probably knew his way around the club. “So, did you recognize the victim?” “No. No, I didn’t.” Cole shrugged, and Alan actually felt the movement against his arm. “I mean, he was a club patron, I guess. I don’t know the regulars as well as the bartenders would.” “Of course. Well…” He trailed off, not knowing what else to ask, but not wanting to leave. He’d have to talk to the bartenders and watch the security tapes before he thought of anything else to question Cole Lee about. Too bad. Too damned bad, because he sure liked the pretty. Alan jumped when Cole touched the back of his neck, fingers moving gently over his nape. “What do you like to do when you’re off duty, Detective?” “Uh. I… Why? What have you got in mind?” Cole smiled, the gleam in those green eyes dangerous as hell. “I thought I might introduce you to something that goes bump in the night.” Alan swallowed, his throat suddenly bone dry, his, uh, bone really pushing at his pants. “Not tonight. I’m on duty.” Alan surprised the hell out of himself with what he said next. “How about Tuesday?” The smile on Cole’s face went hot and naughty, stretching into a wide grin. “Sounds good, honey. Meet me here at eight.” “I -- Okay. I’ll do that. Only to talk about the case, of course.” “Sure. Off the record.” Cole touched him again lightly, making him shiver.

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“Uh-huh. I’ll see you here.” Alan left the office, passing the other partner who gave him an unreadable look, waggling her fingers. “Will we see you again, Detective?” “You can count on it,” he said, nodding sharply. Cole, at least, would definitely be seeing him again.

Chapter Two Cole sighed, staring at the crime scene tape that still blocked the door to the Cat House. Oh, it wasn’t the police that had him shut down. They said they had all the evidence they needed. No, it was the health department. Something about making sure the bathroom was up to standard. Bastards. Looked like Layla was getting lazy with the bribes. He still had an awful lot of paperwork to catch up on, and he wanted to see what the cleaning crew had done, so he was a good hour early to meet Alan. Alan. Detective Shaw. Now, there was an interesting man. Hot as fire under that cool cop exterior, and as curious as, well, a cat. Cole couldn’t wait to see what he was like in bed. “There you are,” Layla said when he walked into the office. She had little reading glasses perched on her nose, and her hair was piled high in an elaborate bun that he always thought of as her naughty secretary look. “Here I am. What are you doing here?” “Figuring out who I need to pay off to get us open again. You?” “I’m meeting someone here. In an hour. You’ll need to be gone by then.” Her finely groomed eyebrows went up. “No shit? Well, go you.” Taking off her glasses, Layla turned her chair so she could face him. “You know, I had someone enhance that security tape. I, uh, think I might know who it was.” Now it was his turn to raise a brow. “Yeah? Do tell.” “Well, you know how I told you I had someone I wanted to set you up with?” “Uh-huh. Some chick.” “Yeah, well…” Her shrug said the rest.

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“Jesus. I told you I didn’t want you setting me up. You and your damned matchmaking flops. So, you’d better start talking.” “I don’t know what there is to say. I thought she was a nice girl.” “You’d better have something to say. That date I mentioned? It’s the cop, and I’d really love to have something to tell him.” Laughing, Layla gave him an admiring look. “You do move fast, Cole. I’ll give you that.” Sliding into the chair by his desk, Cole grunted. “You have no idea. I intend to work this one hard, fast and deep.” “Go you, honey. I told you, you just needed to get laid.” “Get talking, Layla. Then get lost.” “So mean.” She started talking though, and by the time she left, Cole knew he had plenty to keep the cop busy even after Cole was done with him.

*** Alan couldn’t believe he hadn’t just called and canceled his meeting with Cole Lee. What the hell was he thinking? He was pooped from pulling a double shift, he had a mountain of paperwork to do, and damned if his cock wasn’t hard enough to drive nails just thinking about seeing the guy again. Raising a hand, he knocked on the back door of the club office, rapping sharply, even while he wondered if he’d lost his mind. “Detective.” A shaft of orange light hit him in the face when the door opened, but he had no trouble finding his way in because Cole grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. “You look very nice in jeans.” “So do you.” Why beat around the bush? They were really only there for one thing. “Thanks. Want a drink?” “No.” Alan could tell that Cole thought he was in complete control of the situation, and he didn’t like that one bit. Time to mix things up a bit. He pushed Cole,

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flattening a hand on the man’s chest, sending him staggering up against the wall. “No, I’d rather have you first.” “Direct. Forceful.” A smile curved Cole’s lips, and Cole held his hands out to the side, extending his arms. “I like it. Come and get me.” Oh, yeah. What the hell was it about this guy that had him throwing caution and good sense to the wind? It was like he was a cat and Cole was catnip. Damn. Alan went, pressing his body to Cole’s and taking a kiss. Oh, he knew some guys weren’t into kissing. Thought it was for pussies. Alan knew he could tell a lot about a guy from one kiss. Cole liked hard liquor, smoke and mint. His mouth felt soft and damp, but not sloppy. Above all that, Alan could tell that while Cole was letting him take the lead for the moment, it wouldn’t last long. Damn, it was hot. Cole touched him, sliding both hands up his back, one landing between his shoulder blades, one cradling his head, pulling him closer. Hell, he might have Cole backed against the wall, but he was hardly the one running the show. It made him harder than Chinese algebra. “Come on, man. You were so pushy. Touch me.” Cole smiled, showing off an impressive pair of canines. Laughing, Alan dove in for another kiss. He felt reckless. Utterly bold. Hopefully he wouldn’t feel stupid later. They started working on clothes a few seconds later, like they were in perfect concert. He liked it. Alan pulled at Cole’s shirt while Cole worked his zipper open, and he got there first, pushing his fingers through the light covering of hair on Cole’s chest. “Damn, honey. You make me hot,” Cole murmured, kissing along the base of his neck. “Don’t call me honey.” He wasn’t a girl. He was a full grown man and a cop, and no slinky club owner was gonna… “Oh. There.” Cole had finally gotten his pants open, palming his cock. “Right there?”

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“Uh-huh.” He rocked his hips, his thigh muscles hard as stone. “I. Wow.” “Wow.” Cole pushed against his cock, rubbing up and down a little. “I like it.” “I do too.” Alan went up on tiptoes, leaning his chest against Cole’s bare one, begging another kiss. He got it. Cole took his mouth by storm, his tongue moving in so Cole could taste every bit of him. It was completely overwhelming, making him grunt and gasp and rub. The pressure on his cock increased, Cole giving him a little squeeze, a little more friction. “Want more,” Alan gasped when they broke for air. “Want your cock.” “You got it, honey.” Pushing against his chest, Cole put some space between them before reaching down to undo those tight pants, letting his cock spring free. Oh, God, Alan could smell the man, all musk and heat. It made him jerk, his hands opening and closing. Shit, he was shaking. They stared at each other for a long moment before they reached out, clashing a little with lips and teeth in another hard kiss. Cole got one hand wrapped around their pricks, stroking and pulling, their wetness easing the way. Alan moaned, needing more, needing everything. He slammed his hips into Cole’s, his cock rubbing against Cole’s answering hardness, his skin so hot and tight he thought he might explode. “Come on, honey,” Cole growled, the sound sending shivers up and down Alan’s spine. “Come on. Give it up.” He wanted to argue, wanted to say he was worth more than a hand job, but he couldn’t. Not when Cole’s thumb dragged across the slit at the head of his cock. All he could do then was come, and it was all over but the shouting. Leaning hard against Cole, Alan felt the movement of Cole’s arm, felt the throb of that amazing cock against his when Cole came for him. Hot, wet and heavy with musk, Cole shot against his skin, coating his cock and his lower belly with the stuff. “Christ.” Cole chuckled. “Uh-huh. Damn, honey. That was something else.”

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Alan looked up and met Cole’s eyes, frowning just a little. “Don’t call me honey.”

Chapter Three Cole poured drinks, smiling at the detective who sat naked on his couch. Well, the couch in the office. He hadn’t convinced the man to go home with him yet. “So, your partner thinks it was a woman? The one she was planning on fixing you up with, in fact?” “That’s what she says.” He let his gaze trail over Alan’s amazing body. Strong, muscled, and big in all the right places, the man was a sight for sore eyes. “So, where do you put the badge when you do nude interviews, honey?” Cheeks going bright, Alan bent one leg and rested the ankle on the opposite knee. “I don’t usually do naked interviews. You brought it up.” “I did, didn’t I? Sorry.” “No, it’s good. So who is this chick?” Handing over a Scotch and soda, Cole sat down next to Alan. Very close. “Layla says her name is Alicia, and that she seemed perfectly normal. Had been in a few times, was a lonely hearts club kind of girl. No reason to kill anyone that anybody could tell.” “Huh. Well, that at least gives me someplace to start.” “Yeah. She’s a were though, so you’ll have to be careful.” “What does she wear?” “No.” The pretty cop might as well know. Hell, he needed to acknowledge that werecats existed, or he’d be in a world of hurt. “A were. She can change into a cat.” Alan laughed, elbowing him in the ribs. “Uh-huh. Pigs fly and people turn into bats at sunset. God, you sound like the guys down at the precinct.” “Maybe you ought to listen to them. They might know what they’re talking about.” Cole stared right into those dark brown eyes, noticing these little streaks of gold in them. Pretty.

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“No way. Things that go bump in the night? If they existed, they’d be everywhere, not just here, huh?” “Oh, honey. You don’t know the half of it.” Alan tossed back his Scotch. “Then tell me.” Cole moved closer, if that was possible, pressing against Alan’s side, luxuriating in all that bare skin. “I could show you.” “Show me?” “Mmhmm.” “Show me what? I’ve pretty much seen what you’ve got.” Oh, now the man was grinning at him, laugh lines appearing around his mouth and eyes, and Cole forgot all about the girl and the crime scene and everything else for a moment, just to admire. “You’ve only seen a fraction of what I’ve got, honey,” Cole said, reaching down to push the heel of his hand against Alan’s bare cock. “Trust me.” Alan moaned, hips arching up off the couch. “Don’t call me honey.” “By the time I’m through with you, honey, you won’t care what I call you.”

*** A week later, Alan was going through his notes, still trying to find some sort of lead on the Cat House case. He’d looked at Layla’s tapes, had them enhanced, and he had a good idea what the girl looked like. He knew her first name. It shouldn’t be so damned hard to figure out who she was from there, but it was like she’d disappeared off the face of the Earth. Maybe it was time to see what his partner had on the victim. He’d been avoiding Steve because he figured any idiot would be able to figure out from his expression and his shifty feet that he wasn’t being one hundred percent professional about this case. Damn Cole Lee, anyway. The man was just too hot for his own good. “Steve!” Alan saw his partner going by, probably on the way to the water cooler. The man was on some kind of cabbage soup diet, and man, that was damned binding. Or something. “Hey, buddy.”

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“Hey. Long time no see, at least for any length of time, Al.” “Don’t call me Al.” “Sure, Al.” “So what have you got on the victim?” Alan asked, determined not to knock Steve’s teeth out. They had a real love hate thing. “Not much. Kind to his aging mother, good to his parakeet.” Steve guzzled two big cups of water before waving him back to the bullpen. “Something weird did come up on tox though.” “Yeah? What constitutes weird around here?” He’d seen all manner of drug and alcohol cocktails, not to mention some freakish herbal combinations. “Some kind of jacked-up catnip.” “What?” He raised a brow, pursing his lips. What the hell? “Yeah. That’s what I thought too, huh? It’s like, catnip times who knows how much. Doc says the guy was high as a kite on it. There were some other, uh, genetic abnormalities.” “With what?” “With the vic.” “Show me.” By the time he and Steve went through the reports together, Alan was wishing he’d spent more time with his partner looking over the facts and less time chasing Cole’s tail. They might have solved the fucking case if he’d just known what questions to ask.

Chapter Four Cole watched the crowd from the loft above. The club had reopened, all of the evidence pointing to someone not him as the culprit. In a way, he thought it was too damned bad things were moving along so quickly. He really wanted to see Detective Alan Shaw again, had in fact called the number on the card Alan had given him. Cole hardly ever had to do the calling himself. Someone had a great deal of willpower. Movement caught his eye, a flash of a spotted tail, and he had a disorienting shock of déjà vu. Cole watched for a long moment before making his feet move, knowing that the chick who had done the slicing and dicing was at it again, and was blatantly in cat form, right there in the club. That no one else seemed to notice but him, rather amazed him. Cole slid down the stairs at a full run, knowing he’d almost blur, and he’d just leave the tiniest breeze that would cool off the sweaty dancers. He headed for the lounge and bathroom in the back, racing against time. This time he knew what about to happen, and he wanted to make sure it didn’t. In fact, Cole wanted to make sure it didn’t happen bad enough that he shed his shirt as he went, letting his cat come to the fore. Damned good thing that changing wasn’t like some werewolf movie, where it took all this time and pain to be running like the big animal he was, down the hall and into the men’s room. His paws skidded on the floor, his tail brushing the corner when he slid around past the lounge. No one there, but his whiskers were twitching, so he knew someone was nearby. Someone up to no good.

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Cole heard the shout and the sound of metal on metal. He put on a burst of speed, slamming through the swinging door to the restroom, bursting into the room, the scent of urine slapping him in the face. There was the girl, the claws, the guy who was pissing himself and trying to fight the girl off… Roaring, Cole leapt at the girl, taking her down, rolling her over and over. They knocked her latest victim into the bathroom stall that had been so recently cleaned, both of them slipping and sliding. A loud yowl reverberated in his ear, and a stinging slap of claws hit his cheek, making his ears ring. Cole fought back, slapping out with one big paw, trying to push the she-cat away far enough to get some leverage. When he got her on the run, though, she slipped away, breaking the glass out of the damned window that he’d nailed shut, slipping away into the night. Again. The guy she’d attacked started gibbering, staring at him, going on and on about cats and shit. Cole yawned, straightening his whiskers with one paw. They were all bent on one side. He probably had about ten minutes before the police arrived. Time to go get unkittified. After growling at the screaming man to get him to shut up, Cole sauntered out and headed for the office where he had some spare clothes. Maybe he’d call the police himself, if no one else had yet. He did have Alan’s number.

*** “So, another attempted killing at the Cat House, huh?” Steve held on to the ohshit handle as Alan took the corner on two wheels. When Alan glanced sideways, he could see that Steve was getting a little green around the gills. Damned fool always got carsick when they hurried. He had to admit they were in a hurry mainly because he wanted to see Cole Lee again. This was an attempted, not an actual homicide. The guy might be able to help

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them out if he stopped having the psychotic break with reality that Layla, the owner, said he was having when she called. Apparently, Cole had been the one to find the guy. Again. This definitely warranted more one-on-one questioning. He couldn’t wait. They pulled up outside the club, and the uniforms already had the place locked down, people separated into small groups for questioning, the gaudy neon lights throwing weird shadows all over everyone. Nodding to one of the cops, Alan ducked under the tape, watching Steve stagger a little. “Where’s the vic?” The uniform nodded toward the back. “In the private lounge.” “Steve, you want the vic? I’ll take the principal witness.” “Sure. You got a thing for the lady?” “Huh?” Oh, God no. “Something like that.” Really, it was safer to let Steve think that than to let him know the truth. Which was that his cock was already half hard, his whole body singing at the idea of seeing Cole again. He made it to the office just in time to see Layla coming out, her hair all mussed, her perfectly applied makeup a little smudged. “Long night?” Alan asked, trying for a smile. “You have no idea. Watch it. Cole is in a catty mood. I’ve had my interview already.” She sailed past and headed out, leaving a trail of perfume behind. Inhaling, and sneezing, Alan let himself into the office, finding Cole sprawled out on the couch, mostly naked. As in, covered with an afghan and nothing else naked. “Lock the door, would you?” Cole asked, smiling at him, baring his teeth a little. “Uh. Why?” “Because I’ve already talked to your uniforms, and I don’t have any clothes.” Alan locked the door, the tremor in his hand making him a little crazy. “Where are your clothes?”

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That seemed like the most pressing question somehow. “Lost them when I made the change. I was trying to get there on time this time.” “The change…” Okay, he was starting to feel like a panicky idiot, but really, who could blame him? Cole was naked, his only covering a pink and green yarn confection that had to be Layla’s, and he was talking about changing into… what? “Yeah.” Cole’s eyes gleamed yellow for a moment and then the man stood, letting the afghan fall. “Like this.” Before his eyes, Cole seemed to melt, hands and feet becoming wide paws, claws sprouting from them. His body grew longer, lower, golden fur morphing out of skin. Suddenly, Cole had ears. Whiskers. “Jesus, look at your tail.” Making a chuff-chuff noise, Cole padded over to him, feet landing as silent as, well, a cat. Those whiskers twitched, Cole’s eyes unmistakable in a very unfamiliar face. The tip of Cole’s tail touched his leg, brushing across his thigh. Now would be a good time to start yelling, Alan thought. Or at least wishing he had left the door unlocked. Before he could even open his mouth to shout, or whimper, or gibber, Cole was back to normal, standing in front of him, arms crossed, all of his naked parts dangling. “That is so not what it looks like in the movies,” was all he could think to say. “Oh, honey. You have no idea.”

Cole stared at Alan, waiting for the man to run screaming. Instead, dark brown eyes caught his, a glint of humor cropping up there. “Don’t call me honey. Was it the same girl?” “Yeah. I’ve got a good scent register on her now. Got anything new on your end?” Alan was looking anywhere but below his waist, just funny as all get out. Cole felt himself harden a bit, knowing it was because Alan was interested. He could smell it. Nodding, Alan sighed. “Tox came back. Some kind of souped-up catnip.”

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“What?” Now, that was new. “What does that mean?” “I don’t know. The doc seems to think it’s something new. Some sort of organic drug. The basic chemical breakdown is like catnip.” “Shit.” Nothing made a man’s dick go down like a real problem. “So, you think our guy tonight was on it?” “Well, did you have any problems?” Shrugging, Alan moved around him to pick up the afghan, handing it to him. “If it’s catnip, and you’re a cat…” “Which you’re taking very well, by the way.” “What am I supposed to do? Wig out?” “Most guys would have.” “I’m more worried that I got busy with you when I should have been concentrating on the case.” The grin he got was wry, Alan’s body language more about embarrassment than fear. Way more. “Wanna do it again?” “Yeah.” Alan’s brow knit, the frown fast and a little puzzled. “Yeah, I do, but I swear, it has to be the stupidest thing…” Cole didn’t wait for more words. He stepped right up and grabbed Alan’s shoulders, pulling the man close, pressing his mouth to the warm, firm lips he’d been thinking about for days. Moaning, Alan kissed him right back, mouth opening to his, letting him in to taste. They rocked together, clutching each other’s backs, the kiss getting toothy and rough. God, but it made Cole want to ravage the man. Just tear his ass up. He gave Alan a shove, pushing him to the couch, following him down to straddle him and take another kiss. Who needed catnip when he could have this? “Smell good.” Cole nuzzled at Alan’s neck, scenting him. “Uh. Thanks?” Reaching up, Alan grabbed his ears and pulled him around for another kiss. Then another.

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The feel of cloth under his fingers annoyed him, so he tore at Alan’s clothes, growling when the tough stuff fought him. Damn it, when did they start making khakis out of Teflon or something? Cole flicked out a claw, the fine control costing him some energy, but it was entirely worth it when Alan’s pants let go and fell off. The shirt had to go next. It felt rough and scratchy, so Cole tore it off too.

“Cole! I need those clothes, man. If you don’t have any…”

“Hush, honey. We’re busy here.”

“Not so busy that I don’t worry about -- Oh. Oh, God.”

“Yeah.” Alan was hard for him when he reached down and grabbed that heavy

cock, rubbing his palm up and down the shaft. Hot, so hot, and wet too. His mouth watered, and he thought about taking a taste, but there were other things he wanted this time around. Just in case it was the only time around he got. “Want you, honey,” Cole whispered against Alan’s mouth. “Want you bad.” “Condom.” Alan grunted, pushing up into his grip, head falling back, his skin flushed a deep red. “Can’t give you anything.” Hopefully he wouldn’t have to explain any more than that. Right now, he wanted to reach around with the hand not holding Alan’s cock and run his fingers up and down the dark crease between Alan’s buttocks. He pushed lightly against Alan’s hole, the heat and tightness there more intriguing than anything he’d felt in a long time. “Then you can ride me, huh?” “No.” They’d slid down on the couch enough for him to reach all sorts of stuff, but it wasn’t right for him to do more than feel. The stretch was too much. So Cole pushed and pulled and turned and got Alan beneath him, stretched out on the couch, their legs tangling together. “Oh, fuck yes. Much better.” Laughing, he pulled up between Alan’s legs, bracing himself so he could push one long appendage up over the back of the couch, spreading Alan wide for him. “Like a fucking feast.” Dazed brown eyes stared into his. “So do it, already.”

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“Oh, honey. I might have to keep you.” Alan laughed, reaching around to pinch his ass. “You might have to, since I don’t have any clothes. Come on will you?” “Let me get you ready.” Pushing two fingers against Alan’s lips, Cole waited for the man to open up and get him wet. The man caught on quick, sucking his fingers in, licking them like they were his cock. Hot, wet, Alan’s lips and tongue worked him, made him want to howl with how good it was. His fingers popped free before he was entirely ready, but Alan was writhing against him, hips pumping up, body ready for him. Cole pushed his fingers between Alan’s legs, pressing them both deep, feeling Alan open for him. He moved in and out, touching, feeling. Learning the contours inside Alan’s body. “Oh, fuck. Cole. More.” “Soon. More. I don’t want to hurt you, honey.” “Don’t… Don’t call me honey.” Panting, Alan pulled at him, grunting, trying to get him closer. Cole finally gave up on trying the gentle route, pulling his fingers free and slicking up his cock with a little spit. Yeah. Now. Lining up, Cole pushed his cock inside Alan’s body, his eyes trying to roll back in his head at the feeling of that tight body closing around him. “Alan. Oh. I knew it would feel like this.” “Been… been thinking about it, huh?” Hands on his hips, Alan pulled him down hard, slamming them together. “Hell, yes. A lot. I’ve been fucking dreaming of you.” Growling, Cole finally let himself go, let his body do exactly what it wanted to do. They moved, sweat beading on their skin, Alan’s ass sliding on the couch. Cole bent and licked at the salty skin just above one collarbone, tasting and teasing. God, it was good. So good.

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“Kiss me?” Alan smiled at him, blinking a little. “I need you to kiss me.” “Too much? Is it too much?” “No. I just need you to kiss me, Cole.” Alan pressed both hands against the back of his neck, dragging him down. “Come on.” Shit. He could do that. He kissed Alan hard, driving into him over and over, his tongue echoing the movement of his cock. Alan was hot for him, so hot that he almost burned Cole everywhere they touched, especially inside. Jesus. His balls drew up, and Cole knew he’d have to hurry if Alan was going to be with him. He reached down between them, grabbing Alan’s cock, tugging on it. He urged the man to work with him, to be ready for him. Yeah. Soon. “Gonna blow soon.” Alan was gasping, begging him, those pretty, dark eyes so intent on his, and Cole nodded. “Come on, honey. I want to see you come. Want to feel it around me.” “Don’t call me that!” Alan leaned up and bit his shoulder hard, teeth sinking into his flesh. The cock in his hand throbbed, and Alan’s body tightened down around him so hard that he almost screamed with the pleasure. It took Cole maybe two-point-four seconds to come, Alan’s orgasm pushing his right out of him. “Damn. Oh, damn.” Cole panted, leaning his forehead on Alan’s, combing through Alan’s thick brown hair with the fingers of his free hand. “Never done it without a glove,” Alan said, stroking Cole’s sweaty back. “I may be ruined for life.” “Yeah, well. I told you I was keeping you. Now you just have to explain to me why you hate it when I call you honey.” Alan chuckled, popping his butt, leaving a stinging handprint. “That is a long story.”

Chapter Five Alan shook his head, sipping his coffee while Steve sucked down a triple shot mocha. “So, what’s with a catnip that doesn’t affect all of the cats?” “So, you’re finally a believer, huh?” Steve had teased him when he came on the job that it was prerequisite for them to believe in things that went bump in the night, but he’d always laughed it off as rumors. Now he knew better. “It’s hard not to when faced with video evidence.” He didn’t have to use his experience with Cole as evidence, which worked just fine with him. Alan still couldn’t believe he and Cole had both been forced to sneak out of the Cat House wearing an afghan in terrifying colors. That was beside the point, though. Layla had put in new cameras on the main floor after the first crime, and they had a much better view of their cat-lady now. “Yeah. So, if it’s some super drug, why doesn’t it affect her?” “I don’t know.” The vic who was still alive had told them all about the catnip. Well, he’d told them about this drug that some chick had sold him about three weeks ago, and then about how she’d come looking to get the supply back the night of the assault. “And why would she want a recall on whatever she’d sold, huh?” Steve chewed his lip, a habit that Alan found damned irritating in anyone over the age of twelve. “I don’t know. That’s sure not how it usually works. Most dealers want to sell more. Not less.” “He wasn’t a Cat House regular either, was he? Like the first guy wasn’t.” “Yeah. So why were they there and how did she know they would be?” Slapping the desk, Steve grunted. “It’s all damned confusing. Even more confusing is you and the club owner guy.”

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“What? What the hell are you talking about?” He would try to play dumb and go from there. “I mean, you’ve been spending a lot of time locked up in the guy’s office when you should be working.” “I was working. Am.” Shit. Cole got to him like no one else ever had. He had no idea why. Oh, the physical was obvious; Cole was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. The personal, though… The emotional connection. The need. That was new and different. “Well, you’d better be more careful. The guys are starting to talk.”

“Are you talking too?”

Steve snorted. “I got your back, partner. Okay?”

“Yeah.” He let his muscles relax, one by one. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Just watch it, huh?”

“I can do that.” Sighing, Alan went back to poring over the evidence. He just

needed to get this case solved. Then he could worry about Cole Lee. Or at least figure out why he wasn’t nearly as worried about the man as he should be.

*** “So she was going to set me up with a girl she didn’t know, who’s tried to kill one guy and managed to do another.” Cole twirled in his chair, one foot spinning him in lazy circles every time it touched the floor. A warm chuckle sounded on the other end of the line, Cole’s friend Bay laughing right out loud. “Looks like I got the better end of Layla’s matchmaking attempts, huh?” “Looks like it. Go you.” “No shit. So did you find her yet?” “We didn’t. Which is why I called. Keep your kitties at home for a few days, huh? Something is really going on with this drug thing. I don’t want to chance them getting hurt.” “You’re that worried?”

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Cole shook his head, even though Bay couldn’t see him. “I’m just that cautious. Your two are the proverbial cats that curiosity killed.” Bay laughed again, but this time the sound was husky and full of sex. “You have no idea. How’s it going with your cop?” “He’s playing hard to get a hold of. Going furry didn’t freak him out, so I have to assume he’s worried about the job. He’ll come around.” “You always do get what you want, huh?” Cole purred, just thinking about how much he wanted Alan’s ass right now. “You know it, buddy. I always do.”

*** “I have to go to the Cat House,” Alan told Steve, rolling his head on his neck, trying to ease the tension. “Yeah? What for?” They were sitting in the bullpen, both of them staring at pictures and reports and shit. Alan thought he had an idea. Maybe it was crazy, but he really thought he had something. “I need to ask Layla or Cole who this guy is.” He pointed to a man on all of the security photos. Why had no one ever seen him before? He was standing by the bar, looking toward the back hall where all the shit took place, and damned if he wasn’t holding a leash with a collar dangling out of his hand. “As long as it’s not for a booty call.” Alan flipped Steve off, not bothering to answer the accusation. “Be back in a bit.” All the way to the Cat House, Alan practiced how he was going to tell Cole he had a lead and that it had been fun, but it had to end. It was weird. He didn’t really want to cut it off with Cole. Maybe it sounded pat or ridiculous, but he’d known on sight that Cole was for him. Still, he couldn’t risk his job, could he? “Cole’s not here,” Layla said when he hit the office. The Cat House was really slow for ten o’clock at night, just a few people gyrating on the floor, a few more at the bar. “Business is slow, huh?”

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“It is.” She flicked her long, painted fingernails at him. “All the hubbub has made people nervous.” “I bet. Can you tell me who this man is?” He pulled the picture out of his pocket and showed it to her, waiting while she squinted and pursed her lips. “I don’t know his name, but he’s certainly a regular. You think he has something to do with this?” “Look at the leash. Is that normal for this place?” Layla laughed, the sound like the trill of an inquisitive house cat. “Everything goes here.” “Yeah, but it’s not exactly a bondage choker. It looks more functional.” “Hmm. Well, I can’t tell you much. Maybe Cole…” She glanced away, not wanting to look at him, her shoulders hunching. “What about him?” “Well, he could help. Thing is, he went to do some, um, investigating on his own.” “What? Where?” “I don’t know. He said something about a scent trail.” “What’s his cell number?” A scent trail. Shit. Cole probably thought he could take one little girl, but if there were other people involved, it could be very bad. Layla rattled off Cole’s number, her bright eyes clouded with worry. “You won’t let him get hurt, right?” “Not if I can help it.” Alan just hoped Cole hadn’t done something stupid.

Chapter Six Cole wandered through the warehouse district, trying to catch the trail again. The girl was there, but there was more. There was an herbal scent and the smell of sour male sweat. He moved quickly and quietly, trying not to give away his presence, just in case. About the time he thought he’d lost the trail completely, he heard voices. “I don’t care. There’s only one more customer out there who has any of the product left. I want you to track him down tonight.” The first voice was cultured, not at all feminine, and not what he’d expect from the guy who was sweating so profusely. “He hasn’t come to the club like we told him to. Maybe he never tried it.” The second voice oozed, oily and uneducated. That was the sweater. “If he hasn’t, then he still has the whole package. It’s even more important to get it back. It’s damned defective, and you know it.” “We’ll get it back.” That was someone growly, feline. Like a hunting lioness. The girl. Hot damn. “That’s my job. Let me do it.” “You enjoy your job too much, kitten,” the oily voice said. “You’ve been overdoing it.” “Hmm.” Man, listen to that purr. “You said to make sure the test subjects didn’t talk to anyone about the product.” “Indeed,” Mr. Educated agreed. “Difficult to talk with your throat ripped out.” Cole gathered himself, ready to jump out of the shadows and tell them they wouldn’t be using his club for any more killings -- which was when his cell phone went off, the University of Texas fight song ringing out loud and clear. Shit. He heard the low growl, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He had seconds before the she-cat attacked, and he knew it.

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Cole yanked his cell phone out and barked, “Dayton Tire warehouse,” at Layla before he dropped the phone and started to shift. It was time for a cat fight.

*** Alan didn’t think he’d ever driven so fast. He took the corners like a stunt driver in a cop movie. Cole had answered the phone, hollered his location, and obviously dropped the phone. Alan could hear the sounds of a struggle, and he left Layla standing there with her mouth open to ask him what was going on. He knew where the warehouse in question was, and he made it there in eight and a half minutes flat. He was out of the car before he thought to call for backup, his service revolver drawn and ready. The sound of snarling reached him just before the slam of bodies against corrugated metal, and Alan ran faster, his shoes pounding the pavement. Careening around a corner, Alan ran smack into someone, his gun hand crashing down on the man’s head. The guy from the pictures. Christ. “No, sir. You’re not going anywhere.” Grabbing one flailing arm with his free hand, Alan hauled the guy around, trying to get him up against the wall. “Let me go!” The guy reached into his pocket and tossed a handful of something into Alan’s face, something herbal and acrid. It made him sneeze. Then it made him laugh. “I’m not a cat, man. It’s not gonna work on me. On the ground and give me your hands. Behind your neck.” Only when he got the guy cuffed did Alan charge in to try to save Cole, but he was too late. Cole’s clothes lay in shreds on the warehouse floor, and the big cat Cole turned into when he changed had a smaller, lighter cat by the throat, holding her down. Looked like Cole was a way better hunter than Alan gave him credit for.

*** “So, that was you calling, huh?”

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They sat in Cole’s living room, which Alan had never seen before. It was far less gaudy than the office Cole shared with Layla. Far more masculine. Plus, it had the most comfortable couch Alan had ever seen, let alone sat on. “It was. Layla said you had a lead. That was a pretty damned foolish thing to do.” There had been a lot of paperwork and a couple of days of radio silence before he’d tracked Cole down at home. This was their first chance to talk, Alan’s first chance to see if Cole was really okay. “They were ruining my business. Assholes.” Alan raised a brow. “You can’t blame them for thinking that would be the best place to test their product.” The product was some experimental pharmaceutical that turned out to have some unusual side effects. The fancy guy Cole had told him about, the one they’d rounded up yesterday on the evidence from the two captured criminals, worked for a major medical corporation. “Yeah. Give some poor schmuck the product, tell them to come by my club when they want more, then sic a bunch of big kitties on them because the product didn’t work like it was supposed to and they had to hush it all up. Brilliant.” “I’m sure they thought it was.” Cole nodded, sipping a Scotch on the rocks and staring right into his eyes. “What are you doing here, Alan?” He blinked, choking a little on his own drink. “Huh?” “I know you were coming to break it off with me the other night. I can read the signs. Why are you here?” “Because I wanted to see for myself that you were okay. I wanted to see you.” Maybe there was another drug going around. Some kind of truth serum. He never seemed to be able to lie to Cole. “Well, you’ve seen me. Now what?”

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“I should leave.” Alan made no move to get up though. “I mean, it will never work.” “Why? Case is closed, right? It’s not fraternization anymore.” Something dark gleamed in Cole’s eyes. Something dangerous and hot. “Doesn’t mean it’s not a bad idea. I mean, you can be a wild animal sometimes.” “I can.” Cole set his drink aside and rose, coming to kneel in front of him, hands high on Alan’s thighs. “I’d never hurt you though.” “I know that. I always have. I don’t know why I know…” “It’s enough that you do.” Cole started working his button and zipper, opening his pants, just like that. “What are you… Oh.” Cole sucked the head of his cock in once it was free, licking at the slit, eyes boring into his. That look said if he had to ask what was going on, then he was very stupid. Alan didn’t consider himself stupid. He let Cole suck him a good long while, luxuriating in the feel of Cole’s firm, hot lips, loving the way the man pulled at his balls, scraping them lightly with blunt nails. Soon, though, it got to be too much and not enough, and Alan pushed Cole away. Sliding off the couch, Alan stripped off the rest of his clothes, nodding at Cole, waiting for the other man to do the same. Then he dropped to the floor and slid both hands behind Cole’s head, fingers digging into Cole’s thick blond hair to anchor them for a hard kiss. They met in a show of strength, Cole kissing him back so hard that he tasted blood. Now that they were skin to skin, Alan touched, running his hands down Cole’s back, all the way down to grab Cole’s tight ass, squeezing hard. “Oh, honey. You’re feeling your oats.” “Don’t call me honey.” God. He pulled back, making his point with a scowl. “What have you got against honey?” Cole asked, reaching down to stroke his cock.

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“I’m allergic to it. Hives are not exactly something I want to think of when I’m getting busy.” “Oh.” Chuckles turned into full-blown laughter, Cole leaning against him and letting loose. “Why didn’t you say so, baby?” “It’s embarrassing. I mean, most people say that honey is the one food no one can be allergic to, but there are these spores…” “Stop.” Cole kissed him, stopping him cold. “I’ll just call you baby, and we can get back to business.” Cole stroked him again, reminding him of what they were doing. His cock throbbed, and Alan moaned. “Yeah. Okay. Sounds good.” “That’s more like it.” Kissing him again, Cole pushed him down on the floor, crawling on top of him and rubbing their cocks together good and hard. Alan rolled his hips up, his legs wrapping around Cole’s waist, and he rubbed back, needing the heat and friction. They could do all sorts of unspeakable things later. Right now, he just wanted to taste and smell Cole, to get off on knowing the man was safe and alive and right there with him. Pressing down, Cole rocked, panting, licking at his neck. Sharp teeth stung his skin for a moment, and Alan yelled, digging his fingers into the flesh of Cole’s back. Cole yowled like a big cat, bucking against him, and suddenly Cole was moving, kneeling up and hauling him up across those hard thighs. They pressed together, and Cole grabbed both of their cocks, stroking them up and down. The heat of it, the terrible need, it all made his toes curl, his balls like stones, his muscles like frozen rope. “Need it,” Alan whispered. “Need to come.” “Me, too, baby.” Cole’s voice rasped in his ear, tight and growly. “Now. Come on, now.” “Oh.” Following Cole’s command, Alan came, wondering briefly what it was about this man that made him crazy enough to do whatever Cole asked. His body shook all over, his head lolling back on his neck. “Yeah. Christ.” Cole came for him too, hot and wet against his cock, and it went on and on. Fucking perfect.

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“Cole.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“You just ruin my good sense.”

“Good. I’d rather have you going by instinct.”

Alan laughed, deciding to give into the magic that seemed to surround him

whenever Cole was around. They had a lot to learn about each other, but Cole did have one point. The murder case was closed. They could see each other now without anyone raising a stink. Alan figured it was a damned good thing he was a cat person.

Julia Talbot Julia Talbot has been assimilated by Texas, where there is hot and cold running rodeo, cowboys, and smoked brisket. A full time author, Julia has been published by Torquere Press, Suspect Thoughts, Pretty Things Press, and Changeling Press. She can most often be found in coffee shops and restaurants, scribbling in her notebook and entertaining other diners with her mutterings.