Prologue
PROLOGUE
Dude-bros will tell you the pinnacle of male sexual prowess is to make a woman meow.
I will tell you, that’s a dumbass metaphor.
Literal, figurative, it’s complete bullshit.
Cats meow when they’re hurt, hungry, or just plain chatty. A feline might be stressed, pissed, or simply want you to open the goddamn bedroom door at night.
So, the cat’s meow is a myth. I should know.
But the purr? The magical, mysterious, wondrous purr? The aural indication of pussycat pleasure? That’s the mission impossible a man ought to be making come to life. Cats purr for a couple reasons, but the most common one is to show they’re satisfied.
Yes, satisfied .
That’s a man’s job, and that’s why I don’t play small stakes kitty-cat games. No cat’s meows, no pajamas either. My one goal when I get a woman between the sheets is to make her so immensely pleased that she purrs.
I’m not an over-and-out type of guy. There’s no one-and-done for me. I’m a believer in delivering satisfaction in every way, in and out of the bedroom.
That’s exactly what I want to do with a certain someone.
Trouble is, that someone is most definitely off-limits, so it’s time to put a leash on this dog.
But then I learn something wildly unexpected about her, and there’s no way I can turn away from that kind of challenge.