GATO NEGRO
by
ALI KATZ
http://www.a-katz.com

Gato Negro, 2nd Edition
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, 
and incidents are products of the author's imagination, 
or have been used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, 
or events is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2008, 2010 by Ali Katz
Cover Art © 2010 by Stella Price
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced or transmitted 
in any form in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, 
without permission in writing from the author, with the exception of brief
excerpts used for the purposes of review.
November, 2010

Orignally published by Amber Quill Press, LLC, 2008
2nd Edition Published in the United States of America by Kindle DTP, 2010
ASIN: B004A90G5Q

OTHER BOOKS BY ALI  KATZ  AVAILABLE  FOR KINDLE
Only One Regret
From Amber Quill Press
Glory
The Highwayman
From Samhain Publishing
Damon's Price
From Loose Id Publishing
His Brother's Keeper

Dedication
To Miranda, my intrepid ecologist. Thanks for the help, baby.

Uno
The woman crouched between him and the water his body craved. 
Fortunately for her, he was not hungry. The peccary he'd taken 
this morning would keep him for a few
days. Yet the sight of her naked haunch, straining to hold 
her crouched over her work,held him captive.
Instinct told him the meat was forbidden. But he watched for the 
tightening of muscle that would herald an attempt to flee as though 
she were prey. 
She was not prey.
And his full stomach demanded water, not meat.
Whatever prompted her to block access to the stream, arrogance or 
inexperience, getting rid of her was a simple matter of letting 
loose the growl forming in his chest.
Or he could move on to the next watering hole.
But he waited and salivated, watching her with something akin to hunger 
as she prepared a...syringe...with a barb...a needle...as long as 
her finger, hovering over the bright blooms like a hummingbird. 
He almost understood, but his cat brain couldn't quite
make the connection.
From flower to flower she moved, more purposeful than a hummingbird, 
filling the syringe but not feeding. Instead, she emptied each flower's 
gathering into a small vial, making notes on its label before moving on 
to the next. She's collecting nectar. The lucid thought warned him 
of the pending change a fraction of a second before the cramp struck 
his thigh. Without time to prepare, 
his body reacted with a jerk and low grunt.
The woman spun on her heels. Her eyes locked to his, immediately aware.
A look of wondrous awe shined in those eyes. 
Then he smelled the fear a moment before it registered on her face.

* * * *

My God, a black jaguar. The cat crouched behind an elephant ear at the 
edge of the tree line, less than five meters away. An amazing specimen, 
perfectly formed, stocky, with the powerful jaws and shoulder of a male 
in its prime. The black fur gleamed with
health. Beth was close enough to distinguish the shadowed rosettes 
on its back. 
Her gaze moved to study the face. Golden eyes scrutinized her 
thoughtfully. Off in the distance, a howler screeched. The cat gave a 
low huff. The eyes narrowed.
Awareness of what those jaws could do struck her like a blow. 
She froze,
knowing her fifty kilos had no hope of outrunning or overpowering the 
predator's eighty. Lips curled into a snarl, the cat tensed. 
A growl grew from 
deep in its chest, grew and grew, then exploded into a yowl.
She thought she was dead. But the great cat wheeled on its haunches and
disappeared among the trees.
Her body went limp with relief and the aftermath of an adrenaline rush. 
Her legs threatened to drop her to the forest floor, but the other 
members of the team rushed to her
side. She clung to her dignity and stayed upright.
"Beth, are you all right? It's gone. Come here. Sit down." Jean-Paul 
grasped her arm and led her to a mossy area upstream. 
Dignity was the last thing on her mind by the
time he helped her to sit. Her eyes focused on nothing while she waited 
for the feeling to return to her limbs and her heart to stop racing.
"Stupid," she reproached herself under her breath. "Working next to 
a watering
hole. I blocked his way. Stupid." She needed to pull herself together. 
The mistake was bad enough. Falling apart over one could get her sent home.
Kate plopped down beside her. "Damn, Beth. You're supposed to stay with the
group, for God's sake." Her voice was at least an octave higher than normal.
Beth couldn't argue the point. She'd moved without thinking, not 
a good behavior
to embrace anywhere, especially in this environment--as she'd just 
proved to herself. 
The shock was finally passing, the numbness fading; her body was 
starting to 
come back to her. But the cat--the initial thrill returned.
"Did you see him?" Astonished laughter rose in her throat. 
"A black jaguar! My
God, did you see how beautiful he was?"
"I saw it looking at you like breakfast," 
Kate said. "Beth, get over it. You were careless. 
You could have been killed."
"You're right. I'm sorry. We better get back, don't you think?" 
Unable to muster
the appropriate amount of remorse, Beth picked herself up and started 
back to the watering hole to collect her sample bag. "Carter said he 
hasn't seen a cat or wolf 
in this area in years," she mused. "Where did this one come from?"

* * * *

Ch'aho'm--no, he reminded himself, Carlos--didn't understand how he 
came to be back in his old territory. When the research center with 
its influx of people took over the area, he'd moved rather than fight. 
Moving territory was easy in the forest these days. He didn't have to 
worry about stepping on another cat's 
toes; his were the only toes to step on.
His old scent markers were faded, but if he followed the creek in 
this direction, he'd eventually come upon the sagging wooden suspension 
bridge and orient himself. 
The cabin wasn't far.
A night under a roof, a mattress to sleep on, not to mention clothes, 
sounded wonderful. How long had he been a cat this time?
A long time, weeks. The transformation had been hard. The muscles 
in his legs still cramped as they re-acclimated themselves to this shape. 
His bones ached. Still, it felt good to be walking on two legs again. 
He glanced down at his nakedness to discover part
of the discomfort had nothing to do with muscles. He had an erection. 
Is that what brought him to human form? The woman? Not surprising. 
After all, how many years had it been since he'd had sex?
While here, he'd make the rounds he'd neglected far too long. 
A grin crept over his face. A visit to the research center might offer a 
chance to do something with the erection.
But not with his hummingbird. He sensed danger there. Looking back on their
meeting with human perception, she still smelled like prey. Pale skinned, 
raven-haired, obsidian-eyed--he could get lost in those eyes. 
For a few seconds, he'd seen into her soul
and recognized the desire to reach out, to touch, to stroke, to nuzzle. 
No wonder he had a
hard-on. No, the hummingbird woman was off limits.
With some relief, he found the path to his door overgrown and undisturbed. 
Not
wanting to risk his tender new skin, he picked up a fallen branch to help 
clear a way for himself through the overhanging foliage and made his way 
home to see if he still had a job.

* * * *

Beth knew she was dreaming, so the cat's appearance at her window didn't
surprise or frighten her. Even when it leaped into the room, all she 
wanted was a closer look, but night in the cloud forest was pitch dark.
It was early; frogs still sang. The moon must certainly be out, but the 
canopy didn't let in much light, just enough to detect the black on black 
shadow of his stocky
body and the golden glint of his eyes--two brilliant flashes in the night.
Thunder sounded as the cat approached in slow motion, its powerful shoulder
muscles rolling beneath the blackness. His head nudged her, setting the soft 
cocoon of her hammock into a peaceful sway. The motion lulled her deeper 
into a languid state. On the return swing, her hand brushed the length of 
his jaw. The cat leaned in, turning the glancing touch into a caress. 
With the gentle rocking and soothing contact, Beth soon
dropped into dreamless sleep until soft lips whispered across her cheek.
The touch startled her. Still, she didn't wake. Instead, she fell into 
the dream, opening her senses to the awareness of a man's lips caressing 
her face, neck, shoulders--a beautiful dream, purely sensual and more 
than welcome. Warm, wet, his mouth covered her breast, tongue playing over 
the hardened nipple until it tightened to the point of pain. 
Her body arched into the sensation; the play grew more heated. 
Soft puffs of hot breath soughed over her skin, faster, harder, a prod
to her growing arousal.
The hammock tilted. She gripped the edges, rolling to one side as 
two arms came up from below to cradle her through the fabric. 
The mouth had a body, a strong, hairless,
naked chest pressing against her. And a face, his soft, short-stubbled 
beard, sparse,
grazed her skin as a man's teeth and lips gnawed at her torso. 
Long, moist strokes of his tongue followed, awakening every nerve.
No sound from him but the soft whistle of air through his nose as he took 
in her scent, and the hot whoosh of his exhaled breath washing over her.
This was like no wet dream she'd had before. The man, in the dark, 
eating her alive as though he couldn't remember his last meal--his hunger 
came off him in waves.
Her body responded, arching into his need, offering a banquet.
His mouth moved back to her breasts. He tilted her, giving himself 
access to both, sucking at each until her sex throbbed with pulses 
of fire and her hips rose in supplication.
Taking pity, he abandoned her breasts, chewed and licked his way down 
her torso until his head slid between her thighs, where he stopped and 
breathed her in. A whimper escaped her, rousing her a little, but she 
fought to maintain her languid state, to hold onto the dream. 
She raised her knee, opening to him, hips
thrusting, brazenly rubbing her sex against his soft beard. 
Finally, his tongue reached for her in one long stroke from front to back. 
Her pussy wept for joy. He lapped it up.
Please, she thought, but in the dream, he heard. His mouth fell on her. 
His tongue
stroked the length of her, petting, creating liquid spasm, which he 
drank greedily with
hard swallows that moved in waves down his throat pressed to her belly.
In the dream, she had no shame. Her hips bucked, riding his face, 
giving him the
rhythm to take her over the edge. He followed. 
Finally, he took her clit between his lips and sucked.
The orgasm exploded through her--like nothing she had ever 
experienced in life, let alone in a dream. His breathing grew ragged. 
Finally, little growls escaped his
throat, sending vibrations to increase the intensity of the spasms that 
went on and on.
The arm beneath her shoulders vanished. Only one arm held her, 
pressing her
cunt to his face while the rest of her hung supported by the hammock, 
head lowered,
blood roaring past her ears to her brain as he sucked, growling, huffing, 
grunting. She
heard the slap of flesh against flesh and knew he was bringing 
himself to climax. The
knowledge sent her into a second orgasm. He stiffened, cried out 
against her, and his
teeth clenched the soft flesh of her thigh as his body heaved. 
A wild sound escaped her.
When it was over, she stretched, every muscle loosened and burning from the
powerful force of the orgasm. Her body hummed.
He kissed her thighs, her belly, still panting with exertion, 
and made his way up
her torso, peppering her with gentle kisses, soothing after the 
ravaging he had given her.
His sweetness touched her breasts, first one than the other, careful 
to avoid the oversensitive
nipples.
She waited, murmuring her pleasure, for the kiss to reach her mouth. 
His teeth
gently closed on her throat.
He was gone...

* * * *

She dropped into a dreamless sleep to the sound of rain splashing 
on the leaves and the jungle laying itself to rest.

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