Catch
Page 9
He pulled away from her abruptly. She was left stunned and gasping.
"Now undress me."
His eyes bore down into hers. He took her trembling hands and placed them by the top button of his shirt. Her knees were weak; the orange-and-blue pattern swam before her eyes. Her clammy hands seemed to stick to the silk. Half of her wanted to tell him to get lost, but the other half was giddy with delight.
Undoing his shirt, concentrating on the buttons, she attempted to let go of the conflicting thoughts and emotions raging within.
She slid the shirt off over his broad shoulders, allowing it to glide down his arms, then flicked it to the side of the room where his shoes and socks lay.
"Good." His voice was deep and creamy; she could tell he was equally turned on. "Suck here, I want to feel your mouth on me."
A small gasp escaped her lips as she latched onto his nipple. He allowed the finger he'd pointed with to trail slowly down her cheekbone, stopping to stroke her under the ear - the way she stroked Azriel. She rolled his nipple in her mouth, tasting, tormenting. She understood why cats purred, his touch was intoxicating.
She didn't need him to tell her to continue; she was wild with lust for him and wanted nothing more than to have him naked. She wanted to feast on his body. Explore every scented centimeter leisurely with her mouth and tongue and teeth.
She unbuckled his belt with hands trembling now with desire; he'd wound her up and there was no going back once she'd been wound. The black leather belt was new, the smell strong, and the leather caught in the buckle. She had to work hard to wriggle it free. He stood unmoving, watching her struggle, and she was furious he wouldn't help, yet it only inflamed her desire to disrobe him. The silver buttons on his fly were nearly as much trouble, compounded by the increasing pressure of his growing cock.
"I should make you undo those with your teeth," he growled.
"We'd still be here in a week." She looked up from her position on her knees. "You’d better hope like hell I don't break a fingernail, or you'll be in serious trouble."
He smiled. "Like I am at the moment, right?"
Bastard, she thought. She'd show him. By the time she'd finished he'd be pleading for mercy.
She dragged his jeans and boxers down and he stepped out of them. She sat back on her feet and surveyed the taut, tanned body in front of her. He was a fine looking man.
She leaned forward, placing a light kiss on his stomach, smelling and nuzzling that lovely part under his navel where the flesh was warm and soft, downy hair running in a dark line down to his pubic bone. He moaned a little and she felt his cock bobbing menacingly under her chin.
"That feels so good."
She kissed him again, just barely rubbing her lips over his hard stomach; the feeling was tingly and electric. "Hmm, it does, doesn't it?"
She moved away a touch and slapped him playfully on the rear.
"Oy, manhandling." The shock registered in his voice.
"Manhandling, my foot. Get thee in the bath, slave."
"Fighting talk."
"No." She spoke to him the way she'd address Azriel if he were misbehaving. "You're here for a soaking and I mean us to have a good one."
He lowered himself gingerly into the water. "And we might have a bath as well, right?"
"You just love twisting my words, don't you?" She started to peel her dress off provocatively; she was enjoying the ebb and flow of sexual tension.
"Hell, shoot me. I'm a lawyer - it's what we're trained to do."
Sliding her dress down to her waist, exposing her canary yellow bra, she noticed her nipples were standing proud under the material.
"Hey, Madam Spank."
She looked up, stopping what she was doing.
"You think you could get us both a jug of water before you do the lap-dance routine? Things could get a bit hot ‘n’ heavy once you get in here too."
Entirely lost for words, she found herself walking toward the kitchen. He was like no one she'd ever encountered before. One minute she was as horny as a rabbit on coke, the next she wanted to tear him limb from limb and store the pieces in her under-utilized freezer. What was going on?
Could be a long night; might as well take the fruit bowl too, she thought – we might need something to keep the blood sugar levels up.
"Yay, food too. You're an angel."
She couldn't even stay mad with him; he was quite a sight sitting there amongst the bubbles, soft light from the candles taking the edge off the stark room.
She quickly dropped the rest of her clothes to the floor and popped into the fragrant water opposite him.
"Hey, what happened to my private dancer?"
"You turned her into a waitress and she lost her nerve."
"Bugger." He reached for the fruit. "Can I make it up to you by peeling you a grape?"
"You may."
He set about peeling the skin off a grape with his teeth and she couldn't help laughing. He really was quite sweet.
She slid down into the warm, scented water, goose bumps prickling her skin. Loving the feel of the oily water and heat, she was also quite taken by the unsubtle leg rubbing up and down her calf. She headed off on an exploration of her own, wriggling her toes up the inside of what felt like a thigh, but it was hard to tell and the able grape peeler opposite wasn't about to give her any clues as to whether or not she was on target. He just kept working away at the grape.
"It doesn't have to be a perfect job, you know."
"Oh, but for you, my gorgeous creature, it does. Besides - " he grinned; she liked it when he grinned " - I'm a perfectionist. If a job's worth doing, it's worth doing well. That's the maxim I was brought up with."
He leaned forward, posting the juicy morsel in her mouth.
"So tell me..." She wriggled in the water again; it allowed her to surreptitiously reposition her foot - the one on the search-and-destroy mission. "How does a lawyer end up living in Titirangi?"
Matt looked puzzled. "I bought a house there."
"I figured that. I mean, like, I thought..." She wasn't sure what she was trying to ask.
"Why don't I live in the eastern suburbs? What's a well-bred man like myself doing out west?"
She flushed, realizing how ridiculous the question sounded. Stereotypical thinking annoyed her and here she was, indulging in it. "Sounds kind of lame, but I think that might be what I'm trying to say."
"To cut a reasonably long story short, I ran away."
"Ran away?"
"Yeah, the family are all resident in Sydney. I needed to escape the death-hold that my parents seem to think they should have over me, so I ran back here." He added as an afterthought, "And I hoped that going out west would keep them away. I didn't count on falling in love with the area."
"What do you mean, back here?"
"I was born here, educated in Sydney during my adolescent years, completed my degree between there and London, and once I'd graduated and done the big OE thing decided that settling here was the best of a bad bunch of options. London drove me nuts - too much concrete and damp. I quite like Sydney, but it was impossible being so close to my dysfunctional family after being away for a while. So here looked like a great compromise."
"But...Titirangi?"
"Don't knock it till you've tried it."
"I don't know if I'd be able to be so far away from the sea. That's the thing I love about the Shore - you don't have to go too far before you hit water."
"Bethels and Piha are just down the road. They're seriously wild and untamed too."
She smiled. "Wild and untamed - sounds nice."
He splashed her. "Wild and untamed - that's what I like about you."
"Me? I'm not wild and untamed."
"You seemed pretty wild and untamed to me last night." Matt's eyes narrowed. "I was hoping for a repeat performance."
"Were you now?" She hunted around with her foot and managed to find a sensitive spot; he winced when she wiggled her toes.
"Keep doing that - you're on the r
ight track."
A sudden movement disturbed the water and she felt his foot plant itself firmly against her pubic bone. "You're pretty on track yourself."
"So what about you?" Pulling grapes from the bunch, he then devoured a couple. "Now you know I'm on the run from an over-controlling family, I want to know how you ended up installing fish in workplaces."
"It's a long story."
"Try me with the condensed version."
She thought about it for a while. "Really, our stories aren't that dissimilar, except that I haven't been gallivanting all over the world and my parents are still living just up the road, which makes for interesting dynamics." She pulled a face. "Especially when I'm not performing like the trained seal my mother expects."
"Ah. So you're the poor little rich girl who's tried to rebel but just doesn't seem to be able to divorce herself from the gravy train."
"That's a bit harsh." She was torn. If anyone else had summarized her life in those terms she'd have been appalled and angry. But Matt didn't seem to be judging her, or being malicious. He was just stating the facts.
Maybe it was her truth, and maybe the truth did hurt.
Tamsen countered. "Well, console yourself with the fact that at least you managed to get yourself some sort of higher education and your parents don't expect you to just fill in time with some sort of job to keep you out of trouble until you manage to catch yourself a decent man. And after that you’re supposed to spend your time doing whatever it is that young ladies are supposed to do."
"Which is?"
She sighed heavily. "Give them grandchildren, preferably boys."
"Of course."
"Who can be sent to the right schools - "
"And become doctors and lawyers."
The conversation was absurd. Looking at each other, they burst into laughter.
When he'd calmed down Matt watched her trying to stifle her giggles. "So they've set you up in a business where you can meet the right sort of people."
She nodded.
"And instead you're sitting naked in a bath - "
"In their apartment."
"Nice touch. Their apartment with a lawyer - "
"A rebellious westie lawyer." She could see where the conversation was going.
"It's too bizarre."
She laughed again. "But it's great. Don't you see? Somehow, no matter how they try and control and manipulate, it keeps coming back to bite them." She slid forward between his open legs so she could trace her finger down the middle of his chest. "It's as if the universe conspires against them."
He pulled her closer to him, up onto his lap, her legs wrapping around his back. "Well, I just think it's wonderful. The universe can do as much conspiring as it likes as far as I'm concerned, especially if it means I get to sit here, hot and horny and naked with you."
With that he kissed her and she swore she saw stars.
Matthew was feeling prune-like. "That was nice, but why don't we adjourn somewhere a little drier and see where this is going."
"I thought you knew exactly where this was going." Tamsen kissed him on the tip of his nose. "In fact, I thought you were in the driving seat."
"Baby, I'll give you driving."
"I bet you will." She stood up and bent over in front of him, fumbling for the plug.
"Jayses, woman, a man could get arrested for what I'm thinking at the moment." His cock was at instant attention; the provocative view of her rear - coupled with bubbles snaking their way down her upper thighs - being more than he could stand. "Lead the way to the bedroom, babe, and I'll lick you dry."
Pleased to see her actions were having the desired result, she shivered involuntarily, and his cock bobbed in response.
He loved the chase, especially with Tamsen. She was so very erotic, yet seemingly oblivious to the fact she was doing incredible things to him. A heady mix that had his senses on high alert. He'd made love to her so many times in his head since their encounters last night, but the thrill of actually being with her - her scent, her warmth, her taste... Heaven.
She padded across the floor, leaving little watery footprints on the tiles. "I hate this floor - it's the only part of the room that puts my teeth on edge."
"What are you going on about?" He was thinking seduction and she was talking décor; there was something wrong.
"The tiles - feel them." She pulled a face and threw him a warm fluffy towel from the heated towel rail. "They've got grit embedded in the glaze so you don't slip over with wet feet. Gives me that awful feeling - you know, like when someone rubs their fingernail over a blackboard."
He felt the hairs over his shoulders and up the back of his neck come up on end. "I do." He shuddered. "Don't take me there, you'll kill the mood. Talk dirty to me."
She threw him an evil grin. "The toilet could do with a clean."
"Bitch."
Blowing him kisses, she began extinguishing the candles in the room, one by one. It wasn't the sort of blowing he had on his mind.
"Come on," she said as the last one died. "Follow me."
"Hell, it's a cave in here. Where's the light?" He was amazed at how black it had suddenly gone. "I'm in danger of breaking my neck."
She giggled and he saw a small shadow cross in front of the muted light coming from under where he assumed the doorway was. He'd been in such a hurry to get her naked he hadn't taken too much notice of their surroundings. Cursing his one-track mind, he told her, "The occupational, safety and health people would shut you down for this sort of inappropriate behavior, you know that don't you?"
"Give me a break - this is a private home, not a brothel."
"I'm glad you cleared that up for me." He made a tentative movement to get out of the bath, but decided against it. "Come on, get moving so I can see where I'm going."
"I thought you worked on feel."
"Listen, woman, I'll give you feel when I get my bloody hands on you. Now open that door so I don't break my neck trying to get out of this godforsaken tub."
She opened the door and in the light he saw her sashay out. "Tetchy, tetchy. Don't be long now." Her voice floated down the hallway, "I'll leave the boudoir door open so you can find your way. Wouldn't want you getting lost now, would I?"
After climbing out of the tub he vigorously toweled himself dry. He was tempted to dress, pop in the bedroom and peck her on the cheek just to show her she couldn't push him around. But on reflection he decided that would be idiotic, especially with the case of lover's balls he was developing. Jesus, she could be utterly infuriating.
He had no idea whatsoever how to handle her. All his usual tricks were just that -, tricks. Idiot, schoolboy, macho crap. He was seriously winging it with this woman and that was unsettling.
Right, he thought, time to take some positive action and get this little dance with yonder devil-woman underway. Pulling himself up to his full five foot ten and one-quarter inch, he set out for the bedroom. She was right about the tiles, he thought - a serious case of burn would be the result if you shagged on this floor and it wouldn't be due to the under-floor heating.
Her trail was easy enough to follow: a towel lay half out of the second doorway on his left. It amused him, reminded him of Hansel and Gretel. What did that make him - Hansel or the male version of a wicked witch? He chortled at his own insane thoughts. He certainly felt wicked anyway.
She lay on her bed, a vision in a ginger silk negligee, shoestring straps draped in an alluring manner off her shoulders. The room made him think of a gypsy caravan - beautiful and colorful textured fabrics adorned the walls, gathering in a rainbow of color on a circle of silver above the central ceiling light. He felt as if he'd been transported to another time and place. It was surreal, but so totally Tamsen it took his breath away.
"This is gorgeous. I've never seen anything like it." He threw himself on the bed next to her.
The room even smelt exotic - or was that her? He wasn't sure anymore. He felt as if he'd just walked into the set of some Arabian Night
s movie, only this was real - she was real. "You are truly amazing. You know that?"
"So you keep telling me." She smiled; it was dazzling. The light from the candles she'd placed around the room danced in her eyes.
He was in serious trouble, he could feel it. A connection was being forged between the two of them he didn't understand. He kept trying to remind himself he was just here for a good time, but it felt as if more was happening. He couldn't describe how he was feeling.
Confused. Yes.
Attracted. Absolutely.
Connected. A definite possibility.
Horny. An absolute certainty.
The combination had him feeling all the more like a fumbling teenager.
He licked her on the shoulder, nibbling at the shoestring strap of her negligee. "Sexy lady," he growled. She was lightly oiled and smelled musky. "When did you put that oil on? You smell gorgeous."
"In the dark in the bathroom."
"Aha, so that's what you were doing. Prepping."
She giggled. "If that's what you want to call it."
"I do." He was touched she'd gone to so much trouble for him.
"So -" he ran a finger lazily up and down her front, stopping to circle her rapidly hardening nipple " - do you go to this much trouble for all the boys?" He flicked his fingernail over the nub and she shuddered in response. "Or am I getting special treatment?"
"You're getting special treatment. There's not many who make it into my sacred space."
"Sacred space, hmm?" He was rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger now, watching her breathing quicken and enjoying the power he was exerting over her stunning body. "Not many get to worship at the temple of Tamsen?"
"No." Her voice quivered. "Count yourself very lucky."
"Oh, babe, I do. You have no idea how much."
With that he released her nipple, slid his hand down to the dip in her belly and found her mouth with his.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tamsen lay snuggled against Matt's chest. His breathing was regular and she was comforted by the scent of a man between her sheets. It had been a terribly long time since anyone had stayed with her. She lifted her head, looked at the clock and realized the birds had woken her.