Page 15 of Hell's Kitten

I close my eyes and wrap my hand around my hardening length. I still don’t want to waste too much water, but I have a feeling this won’t take long.

Moaning, I start to stroke my hardening dick. Try as I might, thoughts of a certain burly, tattooed biker with a soft spot for stray kitties drift into my mind. I know I shouldn’t be abusing thoughts of Nim like this, but I can’t stop myself from imagining that he’s slipped into the shower with me, coming up from behind and taking me in hand himself. He’d be so much bigger than me, his hairy chest pressed against my back as he kisses my neck…

I bite my lip and tug at one of my nipple piercings. God, I bet he’s thebestat spooning. I’d feel so safe snuggled up against him. Especially if he put his big hands on me and whispered naughty things in my ear. I bet he makes up for all the not-talking during the day by being an absolute beast in the bedroom.Urgh.I’d be so good for him, I’d do anything he wanted, I-I-I…

My orgasm hits me hard, and I explode all over the tiles with a guttural cry. Panting and shivering, I blink my eyes open, watching as the water washes away all the evidence of my very wrong thinking from my hand, belly, and the wall.

After a minute or so, my heart rate and breathing start to return to normal. Guilt threatens to creep in, but I shake my head. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” I say out loud, shutting off the water. “No one ever needs to know.”

I’m soon distracted as I pull back the curtain and realize that I forgot to pick myself up a towel. Shit. Okay, I’ll use the one that’s on the rack and then put a fresh one out for Nim. If I can work out how to use the washing machine, I can even clean this one for him.

Besides, I kind of like using his towel, knowing that it’s been on his skin as well. It’s probably naughty, but after that incredible orgasm, I’m not feeling very saintly in this moment.

A little while later, I am clean and dry in a pair of cloth booty shorts and a crop top that reads ‘I licked it, so it’s mine.’ I figuredI’ll get hot and sweaty with all the unpacking and stuff, and having just had a shower, that seemed like a waste. So I picked a skimpy outfit to run around the apartment with, planning on giving myself time to change into something less provocative before Nim comes back.

I hate having cold feet, though. So I’ve got both a pair of socks on as well as my fat slippers that look like paws. I also find one of my soft headbands with kitty ears on. With no one else around, I can put my music on out loud so there’s no need for my headphones. But the idea of wearing my ears now is comforting for some reason.

It’s probably weird, but sometimes I just like to pretend Iama cat. It delights me, and for some reason, it calms me down. Like when I’m Kitty Jessie, I don’t have to worry about so many things.

Of course I’veneveradmitted that out loud to anyone before. I thought about telling Parker several times, but I’m really glad I didn’t now. I convinced myself that he’d understand and be supportive, but there was obviously a reason I never confided in him. After the way he treated me yesterday, I have a sinking feeling that he’d probably have been quite cruel about the whole thing.

Well, screw him. He’s in the past now. And—not that I ever intend on contacting him again—I plan on thriving. But this town is small. We could very well accidentally run into each other. I want him to regret thinking I was something that he could just throw away without a second thought.

I use a tote to create a laundry bag, tossing my worn clothes in there along with thoughts of my ex. “Be gone!” I cry, willing it into the universe. “This is a new Parker-free zone!”

Putting on one of my peppy pop music playlists, I start dancing around the room as I unpack. Without even really thinking about it, I begin to tidy some of Nim’s stuff as well.Hopefully, I’m not overstepping, but I get the feeling he doesn’t bother with the things in here all that much. So why not make it neater while I’m at it?

In no time at all, the room is looking likemyroom. I don’t have anything to put on the walls—that would be a step too far anyway—but I’ve got kitty stuffies on the bed and my rainbow lamp on the nightstand. My clothes might be hidden away in the drawers, and I’ve got other stuff stored under the bed, but those little touches make the room feel like mine.

I bite my lip as an unexpected wave of emotion hits me. For the first time since I left, I feel like calling my mom. The idea of telling her just how spectacularly things fucked up yesterday was too much to bear. But now I’ve landed on my feet—like a good cat should—I want to let her know I’m okay.

Hmmm…maybe not all the details right now. I’m still not sure how to explain what’s going on with Nim, even to myself. So instead of calling, I take a photo of my cute room, strategically angling it so the least amount of boxes are in view. Then I message her, saying that things didn’t work out with Parker but that it was for the best and I’m now with a different friend and everything’s okay. I also take a selfie with the first black kitty that allows me to cuddle them to my chest, telling Mom that the place even has fur babies. Jackpot!

I don’t let on how many fur babies exactly. She’d never believe me.

That done, I decide to start earning my keep, and go in hunt of the vacuum cleaner, finding it tucked away in the linen cupboard which also reminds me to get out a fresh towel for the bathroom. Once I’ve hung that up (and made sure my damp one is drying on my door), I attack the apartment with the vacuum, blasting my music even louder so I can hear it over the din.

It’s interesting to see which cats run and which stick around to investigate what I’m doing. At the moment, they’re just abunch of different colored collars to me. But hopefully soon, I’ll start remembering their names and personalities.

By the time I’m done cleaning, it’s still only four o’clock. But I realize I haven’t actually eaten today. I chew on my thumbnail and consider my options. I can’t leave the apartment, because I don’t have a key. I don’t want to raid Nim’s cupboards. He said many things, but he didn’t actually say I could eat his food. However…what if I made us both dinner for when he got back? That would probably be okay, right?

First things first, I should probably check and see what he’s got. If the fridge is empty, there won’t be much I can do. To my surprise, it’s nicely stocked, and so are the cupboards. There’s a hairy moment when I almost find myself the victim of a cat food avalanche, but I manage to steady all the neatly stacked cans just in time.

My heart rate still slightly elevated after that excitement, I go back and look at everything with a more focused mind. What meal could I actually make? When I discover a pack of ground beef that’s due to expire the following day, I decide on lasagna. My mouth waters at just the thought of it.

I plug my phone into charge as I realized it was running on fumes, then get to work making the two sauces that will go between the pasta sheets. Dancing around the kitchen to Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande, I sing my heart out, feeling down to my bones how fortunate my luck turned out.

A little sob escapes from somewhere, and I take a moment to rest my hand on my chest and blink away the tears. “Oh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” I say, soothing myself. “You’re all right. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise. You’ve got Nim now.”

Honestly, I don’t know what’s going to happen with this man I only just met a couple of hours ago. But I truly believe I’ve made a friend. One who has nothing to do with Parker. I’ve got a place to sleep and a dream part-time job. Next week I’ll start myclasses and try out for the cheer squad. And on top of all that, the whole reason I’m here is because my mom beat cancer’s ass.

What more can I really ask for than that?

A rather apt Kelly Clarkson song comes on, and I squeal, hastily returning to stir my sauces that I momentarily neglected. I sing along to the words about how I’m so much stronger now, feeling every single lyric in my heart. “Yes, girl!” I cry out loud. “You know it!”

Nim said he was going to come back around five o’clock. It’s ten to now, so hopefully, my timing is bang on. I put the lasagna in the oven on a low heat to let it cook slowly. I wash the bigger items and load the rest into the dishwasher, making sure the kitchen is even more sparkling than when I started.

My kitty companions have all been very well behaved, I have to admit. They must know what cooking is and that the stove is dangerous, so they stayed a safe distance away. But once I drift back into the living room, I soon have a trail of followers like the pied piper, several of them meowing for my attention.

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