Star Catcher Read Online Free

not have feared. Noth was an industrial-strength vacuum cleaner. The only thing he didn’t care for was the alcohol. After finishing half a bottle of hard lemonade, he told her it made him slozzy , whatever that meant. Stella finished it for him, and then had two more.
    The drinks were nearly the only thing left for her with his big appetite around.
    Stella was shocked that Marmalade had warmed up to him so quickly. When Noth first walked into the common room, the kitty had been lying on her back on the couch, paws in the air in one of her weirdo cat positions. She cracked an eye open when they entered and jumped to her feet, puffing her tail and back fur and hissing in Noth’s direction.
    Stella thought the cat was about to go into full-on attack mode, but Noth had stood stock still. He stared intently at the animal with a hushed sound emanating from his pursed lips. The cat immediately backed down. She even jumped off the couch and walked over to rub against his leg. It was totally strange, especially since she always seemed to hate guys. Stella figured the reason she had been adopted by the stray was because she rarely had men over to her place.
    Now, Marmalade was lying on Noth’s lap and gifting him with the privilege of rubbing her tummy. He and Stella sat on the common-room couch, thighs teasing together as they watched the movie.
    “Be careful. She usually bites when I touch her stomach.”
    “I assured your feline I mean her no harm. She will not injure me.”
    “Oh, really? What are you, the cat whisperer?”
    “I do not whisper. I am simply one who communicates well with animals.”
    “I guess I can’t argue with that. She never acts like this.” Stella looked up from the fluffy orange cat to examine the man who was making her purr like crazy.
    Mark Wahlberg was shirtless on the TV, but Stella sat next to the hottest guy she’d ever seen, either on or off the silver screen. His aquiline nose, strong chin, and dark, fathomless eyes pulled at something deep within her. His gaze was somehow both warm and caring and stern and calculating in equal turns. The combination made him magnetic.
    And the alcohol was making her unusually aggressive.
    She placed a hand on his knee and smiled seductively when he glanced her way. The film had captured his attention. He asked what the names of different guns were. She didn’t know. He asked what “the flying thing was called,” and Stella supplied the word plane , and now Mr. Wahlberg was kissing the love interest. Stella was caught up by this part as well, especially the shirtless aspect.
    Her hand rubbed suggestively on Noth’s muscular thigh.
    “What is that called?” He pointed at the kissing couple and looked at Stella. “With the mouths,” he added.
    “Kissing. We call it kissing. Why? What do you Slavs call it?”
    “I do not know.”
    “How could you not know?” She grinned at him. Was this some kind of a game—a sort of “teach the guy from a deserted island how to kiss because he’s never done it”? The idea of a little role-playing made her nipples hard. He was staring at her mouth with intense concentration. Stella licked her lips, and he copied her motion.
    “Here, you poor, deprived thing.” She spoke in an exaggerated tone of sympathy. “I’ll show you what kissing is.” She leaned in, enjoying her own joke. If he balked, she might be able to act like she was kidding up to the last instant before contact. Then her lips touched his. At first, he didn’t respond.
    Oh crap! I’ll have to play it off somehow.
    She’d pull away right now. Tell him to get an English/whatever-freakin’-language-he-spoke dictionary next time he was confused. In just a moment she’d break contact, but then his lips softened slightly against hers. Had he imitated her movements the tiniest bit? She gave a little nibble on his lower lip, with a suck at the end because they were fabulously suckable lips, after all.
    When in Rome … make out with complete