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Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica
Description: Level headed English Professor Caitlin Shanahan has finally earned tenure and purchased the century-old house of her dreams--at thirty-four, she'd better face facts: her future is teaching college and writing plays, not falling in love. So why is she so drawn to foxy little hometown actress Meghan Keenan, who's rented her upstairs apartment, or worse, to the girl's gorgeous hunk of a lover Kurt Davis, a brash carpenter who's never even been to college? Twenty year old Meg has a plan. First she'll seduce the reluctant professor; then she'll share her sexual delights with both Cat and her brawny carpenter, and when she's successfully brought them together, she can make her escape and explore what's beyond the only town she's ever lived in. Kurt can't stand the up-tight professor who's hired him to build a gazebo and refurbish her old house--the house he wanted for himself. Even if Meg succeeds, he knows Caitlin would never look at him twice. No need to go there in his fantasies?
eBook Publisher: Whiskey Creek Press, 2009
eBookwise Release Date: May 2009

16 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [142 KB]
Words: 28389
Reading time: 81-113 min.

"...left me waiting and wanting to read more? Seducing Cat also contained a wry humor that I found amusing and only enhanced it that much more. Adriana Kraft is a force to be reckoned with and I cannot wait to read more from this very talented writing team!" 4.5 Kisses from TwoLips Reviews!

Chapter 1

Peering through the lace curtains of her upstairs home office window onto the sundeck and manicured lawn below, Caitlin Shanahan felt her breathing quicken. Her nipples pebbled.

Her renter's petite nude body glistened under the rays of the late morning sun. Only recently had Caitlin realized how appealing the feminine form could be. She stood behind the curtains, careful not to be seen by the sunbather. Initially, she'd been shocked by Meg Keenan's penchant for tanning in the nude. What if the neighbors saw her?

But they wouldn't. The eight foot privacy fence offered adequate protection from prying eyes--other than those looking out her upstairs window.

The auburn-haired twenty year old looked so decadent and yet so innocent. During the day, she was a teller at the Community Bank. Many evenings she performed under Caitlin's tutelage at the Community Playhouse. Audiences loved Meg. Her endearing, playful, effervescent personality won over fans and would-be critics alike.

If Caitlin had her way, Meg would refine those innate skills with a college education, but the girl didn't seem particularly interested in academic studies.

Caitlin shook her head. Academics was about the only life she'd known. Now, as a recently tenured English professor, she had the satisfaction of giving herself permission to finally back off the throttle a little bit. Hence, she'd gotten involved with the Community Playhouse. She'd grown up in community theater, but gave it up to write a dissertation and then to hone her teaching skills and produce the required number of publications to achieve tenure.

At thirty-four, she was ready for a few changes. Not too many, of course. The first big change had been buying this big old four-square house. She loved it, even if it had cost more than she'd wanted to spend, and even if it was in need of some serious restoration.

She'd made the second change more reluctantly. After seeing the bills piling up because of her passion for the old place, she'd decided to take in a boarder. The upstairs, with the exception of her office, was now an apartment.

Fortunately, Meg's aunt had tired of having her niece living with her at about the same time Caitlin's apartment was ready to rent. It seemed like a match made in heaven. She had the space available, and Meg could readily afford the rent.

It helped that Caitlin knew Meg from the theater. She was exactly the kind of young woman she wanted for a renter: innocent, if not naïve, a young woman who smiled a lot and wanted to please.

Caitlin involuntarily wet her lips as Meg rolled over on the chaise lounge from her stomach to her backside. Her innocent renter had turned out not to be quite so innocent. Caitlin frowned. Maybe she was the naïve one. Not only did Meg soak up sunrays in the nude--she had a lover.

Caitlin shook her head. Was that what you called a muscle-bound brute who apparently wasn't satisfied until he made a woman come a half dozen times?

She groaned. She'd known Kurt Davis for as long as she'd known Meg. He was often in charge of set design at the theater. Grudgingly, she acknowledged that he was good at what he did. But he was also belligerent, cocky, and treated her with faintly restrained contempt.

And now she knew the heavily tanned square-jawed Davis was Meg's lover. How did he get his tan? She assumed from his carpentry work. Before she'd ever met him at the theater, he'd been highly recommended to her as a handyman who could do most of the repairs she needed on her house.

Like most contractors, she imagined, he didn't seem in any hurry to finish her work, and apparently he was very adept at juggling her job along with several others. She never quite knew when he'd show up. He seldom called. The sound of his hammer or the buzz of his saw in the backyard was the only warning of his presence. She'd nearly gotten comfortable seeing his deeply tanned chest expanding and contracting as he worked.

She winced. Kurt Davis had better not try to tan in the nude in her backyard next to Meg.

What else might the two of them try doing on her sundeck? She shook her head. Now she was letting her too-vivid imagination stampede. They wouldn't try any hanky panky out there. Would they?

She'd never known a man and a woman could make so much noise making love. If that's what it was. Petite, innocent Meghan had the lungs of an elephant, and Kurt Davis must rival a range bull in the throes of climax.

Caitlin ran her fingers through her short-cropped hair. Meg's bedroom was right above hers. Why couldn't she just tell Meg to tone her wailing down, or that it wasn't appropriate to sunbathe in the nude?

Caitlin bit down on her tongue. The young dozing woman slid a hand between her legs and covered her mound. The distance was too great to determine whether those fingers continued moving or whether they simply rested in slumber.

Should she rap on the window? No, of course not. She had no intention of giving herself away. Caitlin retreated from the window before she could do anything she'd regret.

She sat at her desk trying to concentrate on grading papers, but wasn't entirely able to block out the image of the sunbather on her sundeck. What would Meg do if she knew her landlord routinely spied on her?

Peering through shuttered eyelashes, Meg Keenan nearly purred. She'd seen the tall figure of Cat Shanahan leave the curtained window. Apparently the lanky red-head had no idea that the sun struck the window in a way that showed her slim form off to nice advantage.

Meg snickered. Why else would she choose this particular time of day to come out onto the sundeck? Because the sun shining on the window exposed Cat to her view almost as much as she was exposed to Cat's.

At least she had the woman's attention. Meg closed her eyelids and exhaled slowly. Soon she'd have Cat's body.

Stretching languidly, Meg smiled and sat up. Her plan was proceeding quite nicely. Kurt had been pissed that she'd rented the upstairs apartment. Both she and Kurt were townies, but she never could figure why he had such a chip on his shoulder about it.

He'd even refused to go to college. Instead, he and Jack Mobly had, over a few short years, established a construction company. At twenty-four he had a certain amount of control over his life that she envied. He didn't seem to care that there was a world outside Burntside, Wisconsin.

She, on the other hand, needed to see beyond the horizon. Fortunately, they both knew that.

While they'd been lovers for two years, neither suffered under the illusion of any long term commitments. She'd known him all her life. And they were very compatible lovers. What one partner didn't think of, the other did, and being together meant they could enjoy their fascination with sex without having to deal with the meat market. Their relationship was one of convenience, yet quite satisfying.

But Meg was ready to leave Burntside, and she wanted Kurt to have something he didn't even know he wanted. She wanted him to have Professor Caitlin Shanahan. And she'd given herself the assignment to make that happen.

The first step had been renting Cat's apartment. The availability of an apartment in Cat's huge house had been quite fortuitous, putting Meg's erotic quest even more within reach. The second step had been getting Cat accustomed to seeing her naked and hopefully whetting Cat's appetite for something she probably never knew she desired.

The next step--Meg hugged herself--oh, the next step would be so delightful. She grinned broadly. This was so much fun, and it was only going to get better.

She planned to enjoy being the bridge between Cat and Kurt. Left to his own devices, Kurt would never so much as suggest any interest in the "sophisticated bitch." And Cat would never show any interest in Kurt because of his age, if nothing else. Meg doubted Cat was bold enough to seduce her own man.

No, she'd have to bring the two together herself. And the only way she knew how to do that was by sharing herself and her many talents with each of them.

Giggling, Meg slung her robe over her arm and padded toward the house.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Meg spun about to greet the owner of the throaty voice. She didn't bother covering up; Kurt always appreciated her comfort with nudity. "What does it look like? Working on my tan."

"Buck naked?"

"Of course. How else would I manage a full body tan?"

He pulled off his work gloves. "Aren't you afraid someone might see you?"

Meg glanced around the yard, at the tall fence and at the thick shrubbery. "That's not going to happen."

"What about her?" He spat the words out, jerking his head towards the office window. "The professor could see you."

"So?" She gave him a broad smile.

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "Now what the hell are you up to, kid?"

She shrugged and waited for him to put the pieces together. Her nipples grew taut under his steady glare.

She loved it when she irked him to the point that he looked like he wanted to blow smoke from his ears. She could almost see smoke now.

His features darkened. "You're not." He took a step toward her. She didn't flinch. She trusted Kurt with every bone in her body. He might get royally pissed, but there was no way he'd hurt her.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Oh yes, I am."

"Why would you want to mess a round with an older woman?" He paused. "With a professor for God's sake!"

"Why not? I think she'll be fun."

"Fun. I doubt she knows the first thing about fun. Have you ever seen her laugh? Really laugh?"

"She will with me."

Kurt his folded his arms across his solid chest. "Do you even know she's into women?"

"She will be." Meg tipped her head to the side. "You don't think I can seduce Cat?"

Kurt exhaled and grimaced. "Hell, you could charm a rock. If you want her, she doesn't stand a chance. I'm almost sorry for her. But why would you even bother?"

"I like her. She's bright. She cares. And I'm envious of her tall slim body. Besides all of that," she flicked her tongue at Kurt, "I want to taste her. I think she'll be dynamite in bed if we have enough patience with her."

Kurt's eyes glazed and his fingers curled at his sides. "We. We?" He shook his head vigorously. "No way, kid. You've had plenty of hair-brained ideas before, but this one is in a league of its own. If you think I'm going to help you screw that uptight professor, then you've been smoking something you'd better get rid of."

Meg remained quiet, delighting in Kurt's obvious consternation.

He paced about and kicked at a lawn chair. "When did you cook this scheme up? Why?" He glowered. "No, don't answer. I don't even want to hear about it.

"That tight-assed redhead slaving over her desk upstairs wouldn't give me the time of day if I wasn't handy with a hammer." He smiled devilishly. "But then I wouldn't either, if she didn't have enough money to pay me premium prices."

"Oh you big, bad boy," Meg teased, latching on to the front of his shirt. "I beg to differ. You can't tell me that a virile guy like you has worked on this house so long without having a brief fantasy of fucking the mistress of the house."

He looked like the kid who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Well, not for long."

"I thought so." She lowered a hand and squeezed his hardening arousal. "At least I won't have to assume you're going brain dead on me."

"You are a minx." He brushed his chin across the top of her head.

She stood on her toes and he lowered his lips to meet hers. She clutched his denim-clad butt and ground her naked loins against his full erection, relishing the feel of his fingers clawing at her ass. "You're good with more than a hammer," she said, breaking their kiss. "I can vouch for that."

He glanced up toward the office window and stepped immediately away. "Your prey is watching."

"Good. I hope she's getting wet. I am. But this isn't the moment." She slipped into her robe and grinned at Kurt. "And she's our prey, remember?"

He rolled his eyes and groaned. "Not hardly. We've done a lot of crazy things since we were kids, but you're on your own with this one, Meg. I'm not remotely interested."

Meg chuckled. "Deceive yourself if you want, lover. But when I deliver her steaming pussy to you, I'll wager anything that you won't walk away--at least, not before sampling."

"Do what you want," Kurt hissed. "You will anyway. Just count me out."

Before she could respond he spun around and retreated toward the tool shed.

Humming to herself, Meg made her way toward the house. She bubbled. She'd planted the seed, and she was right; he had fantasized about screwing the sophisticated professor.

Meg smacked her lips and opened the patio door. No way could he have fantasized as often about Cat as she had. That was impossible.

At last Caitlin could breathe again. She'd watched the broad shoulders of Kurt Davis disappear into her tool shed and she'd heard a downstairs door close and now heard Meg climbing the stairs toward her rooms.

What had happened just minutes ago in her backyard? Or what had nearly happened? If she saw it correctly, Meg had been ready to make love to Kurt right on her flagstone patio. But he'd rebuffed her and stormed off to work.

What had they argued about? It amazed her that Kurt Davis would ever turn down a woman at any time or place. For a moment, she'd thought he'd spied her behind the curtain, but that wasn't possible. Of course if he had, he wasn't about to wave at her--not with a naked woman in his arms.

Meg. How had she ever gotten so carefree? She seemed so comfortable with her body, or possibly even completely unaware of it.

Caitlin crossed her arms. Nearly twice the young woman's age, she remained uptight about her body. She was too thin, her hair too red, her breasts too sloping. She was an ugly duckling and always had been. And always would be.

It wasn't that Meg was a beauty queen--hardly. Petite and curvy, but hardly the stuff of models. Yet she, at twenty, seemed so much more at ease with what she had, and apparently eager to share it freely with Kurt.

Meg's smile captivated most observers. But the sparkle in her eyes mesmerized. That sparkling promise of a good time enticed.

Caitlin folded her hands over her mouth as if in prayer and breathed into them. If she were younger, Meg would be a delightful drinking buddy. But she wasn't younger, and she'd never really been into drinking much. She'd been chastised by family members for years for that failing. How could she be so staunchly Irish without being blessed with a robust taste for liquor?

She brushed fingers lightly across her nipples that were aching to be touched. She pulled on them and bit down on her lower lip. She closed her eyes.

"Yes, yes come for me."

Caitlin's eyes sprang wide open. She spun around. She blinked. She was still alone.

She caught her breath and brought a hand to her warm forehead. What was wrong with her? Was she going crazy?

That had been Meg's voice. She'd heard those words countless times before when the young woman pled with her lover to join her in climaxing.

On shaky legs, Caitlin made her way to her desk. Was she turning day into night? The sounds of Kurt working in the yard drifted through the window and she could hear the upstairs shower running. That had to be Meg.

Had she become the old spinster, teasing herself with seductive images of young lovers coupling and replaying their most private words to titillate her libido?

When had she stooped to such debauchery? She laughed harshly. She had the audacity to pass judgment on Meg and Kurt?

Smiling with pride, Kurt stood back, admiring his handiwork. The Mistress of the Mansion had wanted a distinctive gazebo, not a discount special. Well, he'd certainly provided her with that.

He glanced up toward her office window. He'd swear she'd been standing behind the curtains watching buck-naked Meg fondling his cock through his jeans. Maybe he shouldn't have stopped Meg. How far would Meg have gone? He could never tell; she was as unpredictable as the wind currents on Lake Michigan.

On the other hand, Madam Caitlin Shanahan rarely surprised. Meg fit his image of the Irish siren, dancing to a beat only she could hear. Shanahan's Irish blood probably never overheated. What would she be like, if she ever did cut loose?

He shrugged. No sense letting his imagination get away from him. If she ever did display a free spirit, it wouldn't be around him.

That suited him fine. He didn't have time for uppity, serious women. He knew his place in life. He'd never been handed anything on a silver platter, and he didn't expect that to change anytime soon.

Too bad Shanahan had beat him to this house. The Mulberry house had always been one of his favorites. He'd hoped to be in a position to buy it one day. That day had been several years off when he'd heard that the English professor had bought it. What the hell did a single woman want with a big old house? Not that he had a passel of kids to fill up the place, either.

At least he had the joy of helping bring the old house back to life. It would take time and a fair amount of money, some of which would go into his bank account. He nodded at the house. Yeah, he could handle a lot of aloofness if it meant that money would be transferred from the rich bitch to him.

He scowled. He didn't actually know if Shanahan was rich or not. It had surprised him when the first thing she'd wanted done to the house was to partition it so she could rent most of the upstairs. Then he'd absolutely been shocked to discover that Meg had rented the apartment.

Jesus. What was Meg doing? He'd known all along that she was bi. That had never bothered him before, but then she'd never tried to involve him in her liaisons with women, either. He didn't think there had been any women in the last several months.

And here she was setting out to seduce a professor. Shit. For Meg, it was an adventure. She'd give her all and not hold anything back. But there'd be no commitment. With Meg there never was, and that was okay with him.

He started returning tools to the tool shed. How would the snooty professor respond to Meg's overtures? Would she even acknowledge them? He whistled a soft tune. I'll put my money on Meg.

What would the tall redhead do when Meg frolicked on to a new adventure? It wasn't that Meg ever set out to hurt anyone. She just couldn't understand that some people were looking for more than great sex, a good time, and a novel challenge.

He locked the tool shed and headed for the house. Whatever Meg planned for Professor Shanahan, he couldn't stop her, but he sure as hell wasn't getting involved, either. Hell would freeze over before he'd fuck as judgmental a bitch as Shanahan. She'd probably have to evaluate his cock--length, width and circumference--before ever allowing it to enter her precious body.

It wouldn't measure up. He'd let his guard down once with a classy woman. She'd gotten what she wanted--a rendezvous with a working class guy. He'd fucked her good. Then when she was satisfied, she'd kicked him out on his ass accompanied with a biting tongue lashing.

Never again! Girding himself, he rang Shanahan's doorbell.

Caitlin opened the backdoor halfway, not surprised to find Kurt Davis standing there with his work shirt straining across his chest. He was about the only person who ever used the back entrance.

She tried not to scowl. She hadn't spoken a word, yet he already looked angry with her. Would he ever relax around her? Would she ever relax around him?

"Yes?" She smoothed out her expression. "Come in."

He stepped into the entryway leading to the kitchen without bothering to remove his cap.

"The gazebo looks beautiful." Maybe a little praise would help. "It's just what I'd hoped for."

"Good. That's what you pay me for. With that gazebo done, I'm ready to begin on the staircase, if that's what you'd like next."

"Of course." She'd wondered how long before he'd tackle that project. He'd seemed undaunted by her request to redo the stairs. "That would be lovely."

"There will be a considerable amount of dust." He narrowed his dark eyes and she stood her ground before his evident disdain. "I hope that won't bother you too much, but I'm not a magician."

"No, I suppose you're not." She sighed heavily, not looking forward to the disruption he would make in her day to day routines. Dust was the least of her concerns. "How long do you think the staircase will take?"

He shrugged as if the question made no sense. "Depends on what I find when I begin stripping. I expect a lot of wood will need replacing. Wouldn't be surprised if we find a fair amount of dry rot. This old house was built to last, but it has been neglected far too long."

She'd struggled to hold back a smile when he'd talked about stripping; she didn't think he'd find her sense of humor gratifying. "I am trying to make up for the neglect."

"Yes, I can see that." His features softened. "You love this house a lot, to take it on the way you have. None of this is cheap." He chuckled. "I should know."

"I'm not complaining. You came highly recommended." She flashed an eyebrow. "I trust you're not duping me. If my money runs out, I'll have to wait on more repairs. But for now, we can continue."

"Sounds good to me. I'll be ready to begin at eight o'clock tomorrow, if that's not too early."

"No, that's fine. I'm an early riser."

His dark eyes clouded. "I've noticed." Without another word he turned about and left her standing alone.

She waited for him to get in his truck and drive off before she ventured out for a closer view of her new gazebo.

She smiled broadly as she took the steps leading to the gazebo floor. It was exactly as she'd imagined, large enough for entertaining a few people, if she ever got into entertaining, yet small enough to still be cozy.

She ran her fingers across the smooth oak surface. Kurt had done a painstaking job of sanding the wood to highlight its lustrous grain. She'd watched him from her upstairs window and knew he'd taken great care with the wood.

Is he as sensitive with his women?

Caitlin covered her mouth. Where had that thought come from?

She twirled about the gazebo, enjoying the freedom the inviting space offered. Her long flowing skirt floated and settled.

It was okay to let her mind wander some. She doubted he was as brutish as she wanted to believe. He was proving to be an artist with wood, and Meg wouldn't put up with a man who'd ever try to rein in her spirit.

She flashed on the image of Meg tanning in the nude and then Kurt kneading the girl's bare rear like he was making bread. Didn't the woman have any compunctions?

Probably not.

Caitlin rested her elbows on the gazebo windowsill and stared back at her house. There was a part of her--a tiny part--that was envious of Meg's will-o'-the-wisp approach to life.

Maybe if she'd been a little less restrained, Roy would've gone through with their marriage. She'd been so elated when he'd proposed, and then so totally devastated two months later when he'd asked for his ring back. Apparently, he'd found another finger that fit it better than hers.

She'd even been willing to move to Chicago for him. She shook her head. Not any more. This was her house and she was intent on turning it into the kind of home she'd always wanted: tasteful, comfortable, inviting.

It was a large house for only one person. She tilted her head to the side. Maybe that would change, yet. She wasn't that old. Not really.

Her next renter would have to be more mature. Being bombarded by Meg's enthusiasm made her feel too old. She grinned suddenly. There were fleeting moments when the faerie sprite actually made her feel very young and willing once again to risk taking on the world.

That couldn't all be bad.

Caitlin inhaled deeply and stretched. She loved nothing more than lounging in her gazebo contemplating how she might embrace her changing world, but reality imposed its schedules and deadlines without remorse. Caitlin shrugged and headed back toward her office