Bubbles and Troubles Read Online Free Page A

you the fucking stray cat?” she gasped. “What’s going on?”
    “I’m not a cat, but, ah, I might have looked like a cat a time or two to your eyes.” He seemed oblivious to the still-thick cock pointing towards his chin, but it was incredibly difficult for Carmen to feel the same. She found her treacherous eyes wanting to drift downward, again and again, to drink that luscious sight in. Clearly, it had been way too long since she’d been with a man. Five years, in fact, and Ian almost didn’t count, since his heart obviously hadn’t been completely into their lovemaking by the end of the relationship.
    “And that makes about zero sense,” Carmen grumbled. She rose from the bed and yanked her chenille robe around her. Knotting the sash, she glared at him. “You better do some talking, mister,” she warned, “or, I swear, I’ll call the police right now.” Carmen turned on her cell phone, dialled 9-1-1, and held the phone up threateningly.
    “Ah, yes.” The man stood and lifted his hands in an ‘I’m innocent’ gesture. Carmen swallowed with effort. He was at least six foot three and looked uncannily like David Beckham in his skivvies. Minus the skivvies. “I’m Brock. This will probably be a novel concept for you, but, along with members of my family, I have the ability to cast glamours on humans. To change what they see and trick them into seeing something else. I wanted to get closer to you, but I didn’t think you’d just let me waltz in, so I made it so that you saw a sweet little cat instead.”
    “Bullshit,” Carmen said. She pointed one finger at the ’call’ button and lifted her eyebrows.
    “Seriously,” Brock insisted. “I’m always truly in this form, but, to your eyes, I was a puffy grey furball.” He grinned and added, “You can’t really blame me. Would you have let a man peek in your window for your daybreak solo playtimes, Carmen?”
    Carmen shrieked in embarrassed fury. She pressed ‘call’ and tossed the phone on her bed then shoved Brock into her walk-in closet. He fell back on his bare ass with a thump. Carmen saw shock register on his face before she slammed the closet door. She pulled her heavy dresser in front of the door and picked up the phone from her bed.
    “I’m here,” she told the concerned dispatcher, “and there’s a peeping-tom trespasser trapped in my closet.”

Chapter Four
     
     
     
    Carmen had pulled on some jeans and a sweatshirt by the time the policeman arrived. She waited, tapping her foot, as the young officer exited his patrol car and approached her front steps.
    “Good evening, ma’am.” Officer Paul Treble tipped his hat gravely. “What seems to be the trouble?” He stood at polite attention on Carmen’s porch.
    Carmen groaned inwardly. She’d known Paul ever since she’d moved to Charade. As a pimple-faced teen, he’d helped out at Bushel and a Peck during high school, bagging bunches of kale and rhubarb for customers, before going to college and to the police academy.
    “Come on in, Paul,” she answered. “I caught a trespasser in my bedroom and I’ve got him trapped in my closet.”
    Paul placed his hand on the grip of his pistol. “Is he armed, Ma’am?”
    “Sheesh, Paul, just call me Carmen, okay?” Carmen insisted. “And, uh, he’s not armed. He’s not even dressed,” she added, blushing.
    Paul gave Carmen a sideways glance. She coloured slightly and led him to her bedroom. The tall oak set of drawers stood in front of her closet door, massive and unmoving. Paul put his shoulder to the dresser and pushed it out of the way. He hopped back in front of the door and slid his gun from the holster. Pointing it up to the ceiling, he shouted in a commanding voice, “I’m going to open the door now. Put your hands on your head. Do not move. Do not take a step. Do you understand me?”
    Carmen took a step back. Brock might be hot, but he was also a trespasser. And the whole cat-thing was just too weird to even