the crack of his butt.
A huge red stain oozed between his ass cheeks, and down the center of his legs. When he turned to face her, Lisa screamed and shot him a second time, this time right above his groin.
"Ouch." His hands covered his private area and his eyes rounded at her. "Don't shoot me again."
"A paintball gun?" Lisa shrieked . "You assaulted me with a paintball gun?" She scrambled to her feet and stalked toward him. When she slapped him, the sound of her palm against his face was louder than the paintball shot. "You could have given me a heart attack!"
The perp kept one hand on his crotch and lifted the other to the newly affected area. She almost felt bad at the angry red mark she'd left on his cheek.
"I was holding it when I got out of the car, I didn't point it at you." He insisted and backed up toward the door.
"Yes you did," Lisa insisted. "Now, you lost the cat."
His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Before she could react, he grabbed the paintball gun from her hand. "If the cat gets run over, it will be your fault for stealing him in the first place."
"I didn't steal him," Lisa snapped, "I rescued him from certain death ."
She raced after him back to the parking lot . For such a bulky guy, carrying a weapon, he moved fast. When he dropped to the ground, she followed suit. She wasn’t sure if someone else had mistaken the paintball gun for a real one and was about to shoot at them.
"Hey Alfred Hitchcock. Come here boy," the perp's soft high-pitched voice sounded ridiculous.
Lisa shuffled to where his paint stained butt stuck up in the air and looked under the van with him and lowered to all fours. The yellow cat sat under the vehicle, one leg up licking his naughty bits ignoring them. "Here kitty cat," Lisa cooed and stretched out her hand toward the cat. "Come here pretty boy."
Perp boy rolled his eyes. "Seriously, would you just go away?" He snatched the cat's leg and dragged the hissing animal toward him. He grabbed the now frantic cat by the scruff of his neck and stalked back to his black Jeep. Before Lisa could catch up to him, he'd stashed the cat into the carrier. Its sad meows told of Mr. Hitchcock's annoyance at being locked up again.
"Was that necessary?" Lisa stood before him with her fists on her hips. "You could have injured him."
After a loud exhale , he met her eyes and for the first time she noticed how handsome the perp was. His long-lashed dark brown eyes narrowed as he looked down his perfect nose at her. "Look, it's my baby sister's cat. She's in the hospital and insisted I take the cat home with me to look after. She's pretty sick, so the last thing I want to do is lose her cat." He looked toward the Jeep when Mr. Hitchcock let out an angry growl. "She demands pictures every so often just to make sure I am taking good care of him."
"Oh ." Lisa's ire was completely gone at his words. The combination of him putting the paint gun into his Jeep and giving her a view of his well-formed butt didn't hurt either. "Well, I can see why you were upset." She eyed his Jeep and realized that the back was open; the cat was never in any danger of overheating. Her cheeks however, did.
She stuck out her hand. "My name is Lisa Pasqualone. Would you like to come in for a beer? It's the least I can do for putting you through all this."
"Max Collins," he replied and shook her hand. She gave him what she hoped was her most genuine smile. Surely he wouldn't notice the drool that formed when he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.
Holy six-pack Batman!
Chapter Two
Maxwell Collins wasn't sure why he agreed to have a beer with the cat-napper. It was probably morbid curiosity. She led him into her small kitchen and opened up her refrigerator. She came to the counter with two beers. He accepted one and opened it. He watched her struggle to open hers, then reached for it and twisted the cap off before handing it back.
They both took a sip and she motioned to a
A huge red stain oozed between his ass cheeks, and down the center of his legs. When he turned to face her, Lisa screamed and shot him a second time, this time right above his groin.
"Ouch." His hands covered his private area and his eyes rounded at her. "Don't shoot me again."
"A paintball gun?" Lisa shrieked . "You assaulted me with a paintball gun?" She scrambled to her feet and stalked toward him. When she slapped him, the sound of her palm against his face was louder than the paintball shot. "You could have given me a heart attack!"
The perp kept one hand on his crotch and lifted the other to the newly affected area. She almost felt bad at the angry red mark she'd left on his cheek.
"I was holding it when I got out of the car, I didn't point it at you." He insisted and backed up toward the door.
"Yes you did," Lisa insisted. "Now, you lost the cat."
His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Before she could react, he grabbed the paintball gun from her hand. "If the cat gets run over, it will be your fault for stealing him in the first place."
"I didn't steal him," Lisa snapped, "I rescued him from certain death ."
She raced after him back to the parking lot . For such a bulky guy, carrying a weapon, he moved fast. When he dropped to the ground, she followed suit. She wasn’t sure if someone else had mistaken the paintball gun for a real one and was about to shoot at them.
"Hey Alfred Hitchcock. Come here boy," the perp's soft high-pitched voice sounded ridiculous.
Lisa shuffled to where his paint stained butt stuck up in the air and looked under the van with him and lowered to all fours. The yellow cat sat under the vehicle, one leg up licking his naughty bits ignoring them. "Here kitty cat," Lisa cooed and stretched out her hand toward the cat. "Come here pretty boy."
Perp boy rolled his eyes. "Seriously, would you just go away?" He snatched the cat's leg and dragged the hissing animal toward him. He grabbed the now frantic cat by the scruff of his neck and stalked back to his black Jeep. Before Lisa could catch up to him, he'd stashed the cat into the carrier. Its sad meows told of Mr. Hitchcock's annoyance at being locked up again.
"Was that necessary?" Lisa stood before him with her fists on her hips. "You could have injured him."
After a loud exhale , he met her eyes and for the first time she noticed how handsome the perp was. His long-lashed dark brown eyes narrowed as he looked down his perfect nose at her. "Look, it's my baby sister's cat. She's in the hospital and insisted I take the cat home with me to look after. She's pretty sick, so the last thing I want to do is lose her cat." He looked toward the Jeep when Mr. Hitchcock let out an angry growl. "She demands pictures every so often just to make sure I am taking good care of him."
"Oh ." Lisa's ire was completely gone at his words. The combination of him putting the paint gun into his Jeep and giving her a view of his well-formed butt didn't hurt either. "Well, I can see why you were upset." She eyed his Jeep and realized that the back was open; the cat was never in any danger of overheating. Her cheeks however, did.
She stuck out her hand. "My name is Lisa Pasqualone. Would you like to come in for a beer? It's the least I can do for putting you through all this."
"Max Collins," he replied and shook her hand. She gave him what she hoped was her most genuine smile. Surely he wouldn't notice the drool that formed when he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.
Holy six-pack Batman!
Chapter Two
Maxwell Collins wasn't sure why he agreed to have a beer with the cat-napper. It was probably morbid curiosity. She led him into her small kitchen and opened up her refrigerator. She came to the counter with two beers. He accepted one and opened it. He watched her struggle to open hers, then reached for it and twisted the cap off before handing it back.
They both took a sip and she motioned to a
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