Liars and Tigers (6 page)

***

"You're kidding
me!" Jack exclaimed, as Alex updated him on the events of the weekend. He
plopped down in a chair in front of Alex's desk. "Please don't tell me
you've adopted Misha's habit of lying."

"Not at all. Everything
went as smooth as glass. I'm glad, too. That idiot landlord was getting way too
comfortable breaking into her home. He had the audacity to bust in and nose
around right in front of me!"

"I hope you went
all
Green
Beret on his ass."

"I didn't have the
chance. Miss Kena stepped in with a great big smile. He wet his pants as he ran
off."

"No shit?" Jack
laughed, slapping his thigh. "That takes the cake. So, Misha has agreed to
live with you? How did you manage to get her to do that? She isn't the kind of
gal to accept special favors."

"Get your mind out of
the gutter, Jack-ass. She is renting a room on the other side of the house.
Stubborn little wench demanded the maid's quarters behind the kitchen!"

"That's my girl; close
to the food." Jack chuckled. "And the cub?"

"That little pig gained
nearly two pounds this weekend. He's growing as fast as the puppies. You can
see the changes in him daily. The pups love to lay on top of him and snuggle
into his fur, and Kena is as attentive to him as she is to the others. She
loves her kitty, don't you, girl?" Alex asked the nursing mastiff. He received
a return tail wag.

"You sound like a proud
papa. She certainly looks content," Jack said, gesturing to the dog
sleeping in the nesting box in the corner of the office, with her puppies and
Rodin snuggled against her warm tummy.

"I have to give Kena
all the credit. She fell in love with Misha the minute they met. Hell, Kena
even sat on the kid. And drooled. A lot."

"Oh yeah, I forgot
about the dog spit. Misha doesn't mind it?"

"Not at all. She didn't
even blink when she asked for a spit rag."

"She has some flaws,
but I'm telling you, Alex; this girl is a keeper."

"I'm doing what I can
to make that happen. I have a bunch of calls to make, starting with my attorney
to go after that jerk."

"Have you told her
about your little quirks?" Jack winked.

"Don't you have some
work to do?" Alex asked, pointing to the door.

Jack saluted teasingly and
departed after patting the happy Kena on her massive head. Kena rose, waddled
over to Alex and placed her paw on his thigh. Alex scratched her behind the
ear.

"You're a good
girl," he praised. "Let's find out a bit about your kitty's namesake.
Maybe we can plan a surprise for Misha."

Alex turned on his computer
and typed 'Rodin'. He was not much of an art lover, but what he saw both
surprised and enticed him. Her favorite artist? The works were oozing with
pure, raw sexuality and bold images of female submission. Was this a covert
proclamation to her secret desires? He felt his cock twitch as he skimmed
through the images, studying each with interest. Hmm, he would have guessed her
to be more keen on Picasso, or even something surreal like Dali, but this? He
wondered which piece was her favorite.

Alex quickly chose one that
caught his own eye. The Danaid. The sculpture showed a beautiful woman, her
graceful, despairing figure mimicking the contours of her rocky bed as she
slumped over in
tearful
frustration, with water streaming from her broken jar. Her face was unseen,
except for a peek at a glistening eye. Something about the piece bothered him.
He could not explain what it was that either disturbed or intrigued him about
it, but the image was burning itself into his mind. With a concentrated scowl
,
he read about the mythological inspiration. He felt an unusual ache in his
heart as the words jumped up from the page to proclaim that the woman depicted
was forever condemned to the underworld, and doomed to the futile task of
perpetually trying to fill the broken container. This was an eternal punishment
for murdering her bridegroom on her wedding night.

"That was a little
extreme," Alex commented to the attentive Kena. "She has a lovely
bottom. A good spanking would have sufficed." Kena tilted her head and
made a questioning sound in her throat. "Okay, maybe not just a spanking.
She did kill off her husband. But we don't know what type of jerk he was."

Alex tapped his finger on the desk, thinking about Misha.
What he would give to see
his beautiful little roommate place herself into that kind of flowing and
graceful submission before him! His manhood began to rise. She would be magnificent,
of that he had no doubt. He had never seen her without her safari pants, boots
and khaki shirt, but the feel of her body next to his when they hugged
suggested that she was both soft and firm. He clicked the tab to the purchase
page. Maybe he would treat her to a nice welcoming gift.

"So, I hear you moved,
Tiger," Jack commented through the enclosure gate, as Misha hand fed the
three adult Bengals. She ignored him, concentrating on her task. The cats had
only been there for six months after having been rescued from a zoo. They had
been living under foul and abusive conditions, and it had taken daily exposure
to her for them to finally allow her to enter the enclosure without snarling
and hiding. Now, they cuddled her like kittens.

Jack watched her carefully.
The Boss would have a screaming fit if he discovered what she was doing. Alex
had two strict rules about feeding time—never by hand, and always with a
partner. Misha ignored both; apparently the slight woman felt she was above the
need for safety. Jack held the door for her as she exited the enclosure,
locking it carefully behind her.

"We need to talk, kid.
You can't go treating those cats like they were house pets. You know as well as
I do that they could turn any minute, without warning. They've been starved and
abused, and no amount of cosseting is going to change the fact that they are
still wild animals."

"I know what I'm doing,
Jack," Misha stated flatly as she walked away from him.

He grabbed her arm and
gently forced her to face him. "You aren't going anywhere until I am done
talking to you, little girl. I know you are confident in your work and that you
are one of the best; but you would never allow me or anyone else to put ourselves
in that same situation. You would tell us that it was too risky, and the
animals too unstable. It would break my heart if they decided to make you into
their next meal. I've already been through that scare once with you and don't
want to ever experience that again. Please, promise me that you'll stop hand
feeding them."

"That event was a
different situation," Misha argued. "The cats
like
it! You know that no one else can get them to eat like I can,
and it's because they feel safe with me. You can't stop me!"

Jack's eyes began to smolder
with annoyance. "I can't? Misha, if you were my daughter, I'd put you
across my knee, skin down those trousers, and spank some sense into that
pretty, thick skull. Promise me that you will stop this nonsense immediately!"
he barked.

Misha's eyes widened in
surprise. Jack was usually pretty laid back, and never asserted his position of
supervisor, or long-time friend, on her. "Okay! Fine! I promise. Happy?
I'll feed them through the bars like they were caged animals."

"They
are
caged animals. We can't let them go
to the Wild Animal Park if they don't learn to eat like tigers. And you had
better not be telling me what you think I want to hear. I know your tactics;
you've been using them for years with me. No more lying, hear me? I swear that
if I catch you again, I will paddle you raw, and then I will tell Alex and let
him deal with you. Trust me, love, you don't want to go to that place with him.
I am serious about this. Am I clear?"

Misha nodded, rolling her
eyes. "Men and their testosterone! I promise, okay? Now get off my case
and go do your own work. If you're that bored, I'm sure there is lots of
elephant scat to be shoveled, and Scout would love you to clean his
enclosure."

"Sassy little
wench," the older man muttered, walking away.

"Oh, you have not seen
sassy yet, Jack!" Misha called back.

Jack paused and turned to
her. "Just a word of warning, missy. Alex is old-school. He is not the
type of man who makes idle threats. He will paddle your backside in a heartbeat
if you push him, and he won't hold nuthin' back. Watch your tone with him, if
ya know what's good for you."

"I'm not afraid of
anything Alex Hodges does, Jack. And if he thinks he can spank me like I'm a
naughty child, then I say 'bring it on, buddy'! He hasn't seen my fangs in
action yet."

"I'll make sure I tell
him that. Cuteness will not work with him like it does on me."

"We'll see." Misha
sniggered.

***

"Got
any plans for today?" Alex asked, handing Misha a cup of coffee. It was
their third weekend together, and they had settled into a comfortable regimen
that suited them, and the animals, well. The puppies chased each other,
alternately pouncing on the fuzzy tiger cub as he stretched out in the early
morning sunlight.

"Actually,
I do. I thought it would be fun if I took you for a ride," Misha said, her
voice high and flirty.

Alex
laughed, enjoying the rare glimpse into her playful side. "What kind of
ride are you thinking of, Tiger?"

"One
that I've recently wanted to take, but never got up the nerve." She winked
at him.

Alex
swallowed, feeling his cock stir. "Is it the kind of ride I will
enjoy?"

"Alex,
my dear," Misha stood gracefully, placed her hands on the table, and
leaned forward just an inch from his lips. "It's a ride that will rock
your world." With a quick peck to his cheek, Misha giggled at the
astonished look on his face, snatched up the sleeping cub, and ran inside. She
stuck her head out the door and commanded Alex to get ready to leave in ten
minutes.

She
was in her truck with the motor running when Alex came out to meet her. He
shook his head. "We'll take my truck and I will drive."

"Oh
no, we won't. Trust me, you will never be the same after you see what I have
planned for you, but we have to get moving."

"No
way, kid, I don't have a death wish. Jack's told me about some of your driving
issues. Move on over. You can navigate."

"I
don't have any driving issues. I've never been in an accident, so there is
nothing to worry about. Get in the truck, Alex, unless you're chicken…"
Misha cocked her head and flashed a mischievous grin.

"Name-calling
is not necessary, brat."

"What
do you call that?" Misha asked, as he opened the passenger side door.

"That
wasn't name-calling. That was a term of endearment. Oh great," Alex
groaned, noticing the souped-up stereo system, "please tell me you aren't
going to play the stereo. When did you get that horrid thing?"

"Two
days ago. Jack screwed up my last one. Wanna hear?"

"No,
thank you."

"Don't
you like music?" Misha asked, pulling out of the long driveway.

"I
like music just fine," Alex said, wrapping his fingers around the hand
grip to brace himself. "Just not loud, especially when driving. Please,
slow down before you make me car sick. These roads are too narrow to go this
fast on the curves."

"Relax,
Mr. Hodges," Misha giggled, "this action is nothing compared to what
I'm gonna do to you in an hour."

Misha
pulled onto the north of I-15 toward Temecula. Alex closed his eyes as she
chattered along, mumbling that she'd had too much coffee that morning.

Misha
made a face at him. "Do you have a headache or something?"

"No,
sweetheart, I'm just exhausted. I have to say something, though. I really like
this side of you. Even the little bit of sass is cute. Just don't take it too
far, okay?"

"What
if I do, huh? Whatcha going to do about it?"

"I'll
start by taking a hairbrush to your backend. Trust me, darling you don't want
to go there."

"What
if I do?" Misha asked. "Jack told me all about you."

"You
do?" Alex's mouth fell open. "What did Jack say?"

"I
love watching you take the bait," Misha laughed, avoiding his question.
"You should be in a good mood! You got the elephant settled in that
gigantic reserve
and
Jack fixed the
aircon in your office. Put away the grumpy. You're going to have a blast."

"I
hope so. Do you promise to be a good girl and not try to provoke a fight with
me today?"

"Maybe."

"How
about this; if you sincerely try to be good, I'll let you win at miniature golf
next time we play?"

"I've
won the last three games we've played, so what's the big deal?" Misha
snorted, glancing at him.

"You
cheat. Don't think I don't see you picking up the ball and putting it near the
hole. You also finagle the numbers when keeping score."