Page 54 of Naughty November

LEAVING HIM LOCKED

CHARA CROFT

ONE

FLETCHER

I’d grumbled about it when my brother, Everett, asked me to swing by his place to feed and pet his cat while he went to some conference for work, but given that I was the one still lounging on his couch two hours after having completed that daily duty, flipping through my phone with one hand while I petted Lucy, his scrawny one-eyed rescue cat, as she sprawled on my lap, even I would have to admit that all that grumbling had mostly been for show.

“Maybe I should get a cat, too,” I told Lucy, flipping my phone around so she could see the adorable Siamese kitten from the local rescue shelter on my screen.

She flicked an ear, then batted my phone away.

“You’re right, princess. She doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

And now I was talking to a cat.

I’d moved back to my hometown three months ago after a nasty breakup where it had been easier to walk away than fight my ex for the rent-controlled apartment we’d scored two years back, but given that it had been ten years since I left my home town, a lot had changed.

For one thing, just like me, all my friends had fled for greenerpastures after high school, so the only people I still knew in town were my own family.

In a word, I was fucking lonely. And I didn’t just mean in the sex-deprived way, although absolutely that, too.

Lucy meowed at me in sympathy.

“I know,” I muttered to her, scratching under her chin until the sound turned to contented purring again. “But I had to delete Grindr when I found my former football coach’s profile on there. You understand, right?”

She did a slow blink at me that I took as a yes. Even if I’d been into older men, which I wasn’t, the idea of banging Coach Niles after how much time I’d spent doing burpees for him when I’d been a teenager felt vaguely incestuous.

Lucy head-butted me.

“Fine, you caught me.” I grinned down at her, not minding the one-sided conversation at all. “It wasn’t just that. I’ll be the first to admit that I have a type, and he’s just not pretty enough for me.”

Not to mention there’s no way I could imagine a man like that giving up the kind of control I liked to take in the bedroom.

Lucy stared at me silently for a few seconds, then stood up, turned around a couple of times, and lifted her tail, presenting me with her asshole.

I winced, dropping my head back and staring at the ceiling instead. “No offense, beautiful, but I’m notthathard up.”

And I really wasn’t. I did need to put a little more effort into getting a social life if I was going to stick around—by which I absolutely meant I needed to get laid—but honestly, finding Coach Niles’ profile on Grindr hadn’t been the only reason I’d deleted the app almost as soon as I installed it. I wanted more, and I wasn’t just talking about someone open to being a little kinky.

I didn’t miss Brian, the ex I’d moved away from, but I did miss being part of a couple. Hookups had been fine in my early twenties, maybe even preferred, but now that I was pushing thirty and had weathered a few real relationships, what I really wanted was someone of my own again.

Preferably someone sweet, pretty, and submissive. Someonesmaller, on the more delicate end of the scale, who liked it when I took the lead. I did have a type, after all, and that was the kind of man my dick had always responded to. But the next time around, I wanted to find a deeper connection, too.

I wanted someone I could actually fall in love with.

“And that getting-to-know-each-other shit takes time,” I murmured to the ceiling. “It’s not like the perfect man is going to just?—”

The doorbell rang.

“Fuck,” I grunted as Lucy yowled and dug her claws into my thigh, then took off like a shot—taking scraps of both flesh and denim with her—when the ringing was immediately followed by frantic-sounding knocking.

I frowned, getting to my feet and hurrying toward the door.

My brother’s place was one half of a duplex, and my first thought was that the little old lady who rented out the other side must be having some kind of emergency.

My second thought was that Everett had come home a few days early, but that idea was stupid enough that I huffed out a laugh at myself. It was his place. He wouldn’t need to try and take down the front door with his fists like this. And even if he’d lost his key, he’d have seen my car in the driveway and just called out or texted me like a normal person.