Free Werecats and Werelocks (Collection) by Dakota Cassidy Page A

through and through. Yum-my. “And you were in a Dumpster, why?"
    "Because I was stuck in my cat form while I was looking for food. Embarrassed as I am to say it, I was starving and I smelled food in the Dumpster. It was just my kind of luck someone would close the top on me. Truly, it was disgusting. I could have died of asphyxiation in there.” She made a face to emphasize just how disgusting.
    "And you couldn't shif—uh ... be a human because?"
    "I couldn't shift back to my human form because I got stuck and then I got lost and well, you know the rest..."
    His hard, chiseled, oh, so angled, fabulous face held nothing but bewilderment—disorientation. His luscious mouth—a mouth that had dedicated much time and pleasure to places on her body she didn't know could respond like that—fell open again.
    Frankie placed a hand under his chin and gently closed it, settling onto the barstool at Sam's breakfast bar. “Okay, here's the short story. I'll try to go slow so you can absorb everything. I come from a culture of shapeshifters. We can shift from human form to cat form. My culture believes procreation is the way to keep our breed alive. If we don't mate and begin to at least try and procreate by the time we're thirty, as sort of a punishment because we're not doing what's necessary to keep our breed alive and kicking, we're cursed to remain in our cat forms. It's some ancient bylaw or something. The time between shift from human to cat gets longer and longer the less I mate and inevitably, if I don't mate, I become someone's house pet— forever ."
    Sam massaged his temples and muttered, “Jesus Christ."
    Frankie shook her head in agreement. “Huh-huh. Believe me, I've said that a lot lately. It's archaic, I know, but it is what it is. I had a horrible argument with my parents and I stepped outside for some fresh air before I said something I'd regret, shifted and got lost, couldn't shift back, then got myself stuck in a garbage can. But seriously, I'd do it all again. In fact, I'd go out on a limb and venture to say I'd rather be stuck in PetCo for the rest of my life than mate with Harry Weintraub."
    "Harry who?"
    "Weintraub.” She shuddered for effect.
    "So why do you have to mate with him? Is that an ancient bylaw too?"
    With a roll of her eyes, she clucked her tongue. “I have to mate with him because he's the guy my parents thought would be a good mate for me and he's available, and I haven't produced anyone to show them I'm working toward mating for life—or even mating at all. I was career oriented and a procrastinator, if you listen to my cousin Maude. Anyway, Harry ... well, he's icky."
    "Icky ... Wait, they mate you off in this shapechanging whatever place? Like arranged marriages?"
    Frankie tugged at her long tendrils of hair, pulling them up and twisting them into a knot on the top of her head. “ Shapeshifting and yep. Unless I find a mate on my own I'm on the chopping block and the curse of being a shapeshifter means I have to abide by the laws and the laws say I must mate and procreate."
    "So you were stuck as a cat ... What unstuck you?"
    My raging, flamin’ hormones? The fact that you're hotter than volcanic lava? Your deliciously decadent scent? “I'm not sure,” she hedged. “It just happened and then you grabbed me and well, desperate times and all ... truthfully, I think it was the sex."
    "So what we did—"
    "Boinked. We boinked, Sam.” No use in not stating the obvious. They'd wonked, banged, stomped the shit out of his mattress.
    "Right. What we did ... it kept you in your human form?"
    Frankie blew out a nervous breath. “Yeah. I think so, and that's why we need to talk. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess you aren't around here much because, according to Glynice, you work all the time, yes?"
    The look of surprise at her blunt assessment might have made her chuckle. If she wasn't so desperate. “Glynice thinks I need a life. I think she needs to retire. We often spar about