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feather seemed to call to her, to all but beckon her to touch it, to slide it along her flesh.
    The instant the feathers made contact, her skin began to tingle. Closing her eyes, Eve stroked her cheek with it once more and noticed the exotic smell wafting from it, like musk and incense. The tingling continued until she felt as though she were being touched by a hand—a man’s hand. And the scent, it was growing stronger, more heady. And Lord, her body was responding to the tactile and olfactory stimulus. Her body had goosebumps, and she was wet. Already her swollen breasts were growing harder against her camisole. On impulse, she stroked the tip of her feather over her nipple, felt the little tremor of energy snake along her skin, puckering her nipple until it was aching. Again, she repeated the action, only this time she drew tight little circles around her nipple. The sensation was incredible, and she closed her eyes, let her head fall back, let herself sink into the illicit sensations she felt flowing from the feather and onto her skin.
    Eve was aware of the clicking sound of Lizzy’s nails on the hardwood, but she couldn’t open her eyes, couldn’t make herself leave the incredibly arousing scent that was enveloping her, or the sensation of a hand stroking along her cheek and jaw.
    She no longer felt the tickling sensation of the feather against her, but instead, the touch had become less feather-like and more like the reverent touch of a lover. And Lord, how she wanted more of that touch, and not just on her face. She wanted it lower; on her breasts, cupping her fullness in big, masculine palms. She wanted long, strong fingers circling the sensitive areoles and flicking her aching nipples. She wanted it easing between her thighs, stroking her, building up the wetness that was steadily dampening her underwear.
    God, she was hot, as if she truly was being stroked by some invisible force. Physically, her body was responding as if it were actually happening, this pleasure she felt. Her hips were restless and her sex was slick with desire, with wanting. Every inch of her sensitised body, was inflamed by this mysterious aura that had somehow covered her from head to foot.
    A growl, low and threatening rumbled out of Lizzy, snapping Eve out of the trance she was in. She dropped the feather onto the table and turned to see that Lizzy was at the side door that led to the back alley. The springer’s lips were peeled back, and her long white canines where bared. The hair on her withers stood to full height, and Eve watched as Lizzy’s loins flickered with barely restrained fear.
    With a hard swallow, Eve once more gathered control over her body, trying to shake off the weird sensations and images that had only just given up their grip on her.
    “What is it, Liz? What’s out there that’s got you all worked up?”
    Lizzy didn’t even so much as glance in Eve’s direction. Instead, her ears perked up higher and a shiver rain down her sides, making the black and white patches jump. She growled again, a long steady rumble and raised her lips, showing more of her teeth.
    “Okay, Cujo. Let’s see what’s got you spooked. It’s probably just a squirrel, and you know you can’t be bothered to give them the time of day, so I don’t know why you’re making all this fuss.”
    Lizzy’s attention stayed focused on the gold latch. Weird . In the few short months she’d had Lizzy, Eve hadn’t known her to be anything other than a laze-about who didn’t so much as open one eye to strange sounds. But something had her on the alert. Eve just hoped that whatever was out there wasn’t dangerous.
    “Maybe it’s Trent,” Eve muttered to the dog as she reached for her long cable knit sweater that was hanging on the coat rack. “You know he sometimes comes in through this door.” But why would a fourteen year old be here on New Years Eve?
    Lizzy growled again then began a series of deep, sorrowful whimpers. “Yeah, it’s