Cat shifter Maks is busy arguing with his sister when he's happily saved by the bell. There's a special delivery for him -- an amazing statue of a cat-man that certainly calls to him. The statue isn't the only thing that calls to him, though, Deke the delivery man makes puts all of Maks' animal instincts on high alert. A little fun with the delivery man shouldn't be a problem, as long as Maks can keep his teeth to himself, right?
"Maks, please. You need to come down and deal with some of this nonsense."
"Karenne, you speak as if I can simply jog downstairs and appear in the office like a puff of smoke." He was only, what? Sixteen hours or so travel time away? "We have other brothers who are closer." And less solitary.
"But, Maks... You're the oldest." And the least pleasant.
He rumbled, shook his head at his beloved, irritating sister. "Call Pietr. Or Naveen."
His twin, Cedric, was less likely than him to travel toward Cape Town, even if Ric much preferred the beaches of Mexico over the snowy plains Maks was more comfortable in.
There was a knock on his door. Not a buzz from the intercom to let someone in at the front door downstairs, but an actual knock on his actual door.
Maks growled softly. "Karenne, I have to go."
He didn't wait for her answer, he simply snapped the phone closed and stalked toward the door. "Who is it?"
"Delivery for, uh... M. Davin."
He grabbed a staff from the pot near the door, checked the peephole.
There was a big, burly man dressed in jeans and a denim jacket over a white T-shirt, standing next to a large box on a dolly. The man was maybe in his early thirties, with short dark hair that didn't look like it had seen a comb in awhile. Maks couldn't make out his eye color through the peephole, but he could make out the man's impatience.
It hung over him like a cloak.
"Where's the delivery from?"
The guy held up his clipboard. "Winsome Galleries."
He opened the door, staff in hand.
The guy's eyebrow went up at the sight of the staff, but he didn't say anything about it. "Where do you want it?"
"Just leave it here in the foyer." He couldn't for the life of him remember ordering something from a gallery.
"You want it out of the box, man?" The guy looked at him, eyes a dark, almost-midnight blue.
His nostrils flared, scenting the air instinctively. "Please."
For those who enjoy a quick paranormal m/m story, The Cat's Meow is, indeed, the cat’s meow. For those of you too young to be familiar with that phrase, it means this is a good story.
Dark Diva Reviews
I’m surprised I can still type after scorching my fingers just holding this blistering hot sexy short story. Sean Michael’s The Cat’s Meow is a whole lot of sex held together by a just a thread of a story. And amazingly, that’s enough glue to make the short story flow, from beginning to the end.
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