The Cat Call

Nicole Doshi runs things and everyone knows it. She barks orders all day and most men fold. But once in a blue moon, the thought crosses her mind—what if someone else called the shots, just for fun? The guy would have to be built different. Like, actually different. Today she cruises past some guy on the sidewalk and her foot’s already hitting the brake. Isiah Maxwell. Broad shoulders, casual walk, zero idea what’s coming. She leans out the window, whistles, and tells him straight-up what she wants. He barely hesitates before sliding into the passenger seat, calm like this is an everyday thing. She figures tonight’s just another quick ride. Wrong. Isiah doesn’t ask—he decides. The second they get inside her place he has her wrists, her rhythm, her tone, everything lined up exactly how he wants. For once Nicole doesn’t have the upper hand and it surprises the hell out of her, in the best way.