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The Mating (Wild Cats Part One): Erotic Romance Series

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This torture has been going since that first time he came in to have coffee with clients
almost a month ago.
She remembered his eyes locking on her that first day-and the sizzle of heat she felt as
she froze, staring back involuntarily at his perfectly handsome face.
And since then, every afternoon he would come in. He would order coffee and would
stay for one hour.
Every- freakin'-day.
She wondered at his discipline. She hadn't even seen him look at his watch. But in one
hour, he would leave.
He was the weirdest, handsomest man she had ever encountered.
Anthony's teasing whisper intruded in her thoughts. "O h... if I were in your place, love, I
would have gotten a date by now. A god like him, coming to the shop every day just for
me, sitting for hours with a coffee he never drinks... staring at me constantly... and then
leaving the hugest tip we've ever received from anybody-hell, not just a date. He would
already know how big my bed is!"
"Right. And next morning you would be found in some gutter with your throat cut like a
chicken," she said under her breath. "O r maybe?" Her voice held the curiosity and
confusion that she felt. "As far as we know, this guy could be the next Ted Bundy. He is
rich, and he is good- looking." A huge understatement. "What could he possibly want with
a waitress from a coffee shop at the edge of the city? It's not like I'm some model!"
She told that as much to herself because it was the truth.
"Honey... how many times have I told you? You are a piece of candy with t hat red hair. If
you'd just take care of yourself a little better." Anthony was now looking down at her so
critically. "I mean... that dreadful ponytail. And no makeup!"
She straightened her wide black blouse and tight trousers. "I'm fine the way I am, tha nk
you very much."
She did not say what was really on her mind-even if she tried making herself beautiful,
she would only look merely presentable compared to the hundreds of women who
undoubtedly vied for his attention.
She was not one to fool herself. S he might not know the man, but no one could dispute
this other truth. She was highly inappropriate for someone like him. And she knew
without a doubt what plans he would have for her if given the chance.
Of course she knew. She had been through that road before and she was able to escape.
She has no intention of going back.
She took the coffee and brought it to the man's table, and then got busy with other
customers.
Or at least she tried.
His eyes bore into her back at every turn. And as resolved as she was to ignore him, she
still got so nervous that she would take orders from customers twice, only to realize that
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