Catch

by Kenyon, Toni

  Tamsen cut into his thoughts. "So, are you going to tell me what happened?"

  "We just had the best sex."

  She threw the pincushion at him.

  "Hey, watch it. Lethal weapon. That could take somebody's eye out."

  "You were supposed to be having dinner with your mother, remember?"

  "Oh, right, that's what happened." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, certain it would push some more of her buttons. He liked it when he got a reaction from her - not just a sexual response but any kind of retort. He could almost refuel from her vital life force.

  "Oh, right, that's what happened," she mimicked him, even down to the rubbing of the chin.

  He couldn't help but laugh. "Woman, you are glorious."

  "Stop trying to change the subject and tell me what happened tonight. You arrived like a bull at a gate." She threw him a sly smile. "Not that I'm complaining, of course."

  "Me being hung like a bull and all."

  "Absolutely." She nodded her head vigorously.

  "You're mocking me, aren't you?"

  "Would I?"

  She was a goddess. He'd never felt so at ease with a woman - she drained all the tension from any situation. Yet he also liked the way she stood up to him, challenging him at every turn.

  "You should be a therapist, you know that?"

  "Nah, couldn't do it." Tamsen bit through the last of the thread, all the buttons they could find now firmly sewn back on his shirt.

  "Why not? You'd be good at it. Look how much more relaxed I am now - you just have that effect on me."

  "That's not me, it's the sex." She threw him another provocative grin. "And therapists aren’t allowed to fuck the patients, so it'd never work."

  She really was a gem. "Most women would be incensed if anyone suggested it was just a shag that had changed the mood."

  "I'm not most women."

  "Ain't that the truth." And wasn't he grateful.

  She threw the shirt back at him. "You're still missing a couple. Be more careful next time you undress."

  "I'm not worried - I've another fifteen in the wardrobe exactly the same."

  "Well, you don't have to wear them." She had that wicked look in her eye again; he had a vision of the entire office naked.

  "I'm afraid casual Friday's not ever going to be part of the doctrine where I work."

  "Maybe you need to change where you work."

  "What makes you say that?" He was puzzled - not at the question, but at his own reaction to it.

  "I don't know. You strike me as someone who's searching for something but you're not quite sure what."

  He stood up, a gamut of conflicting thoughts running through his head. Tamsen crossed the room and was in front of him in an instant, helping him do up what was left of the buttons on his shirt.

  Aware of her scent, the clean smell from their showering, he stopped what he was doing. "Is it me, or does this shirt stink?" He lifted up his arm and sniffed.

  "It stinks. Why don't you let me wash it?"

  "But that means I'd have to stand around here half naked for the duration." Raising her arms, he checked out her petite frame. "I don't think you'd have any shirts in my size."

  She grinned. "I think I could stand having a half-naked gorgeous man lying around my apartment for a few hours. I'm prepared to make a sacrifice for the good of the cause."

  "You think you'll be able to keep those lust-crazed hands off me?"

  "I think I'll manage." The sarcasm in her voice made him want to laugh.

  Smelly shirt in hand, Tamsen left the room. Matt ferreted in his pants pocket for his cellphone. Best cancel the reservation for dinner. It would have been nice to take Tamsen out, but smelly, disheveled shirt aside, he wasn't dressed for the occasion and he had no intention of going home to his mother's carefully set trap. As much as the option appealed, taking Tamsen back there and wiping the smug looks off Marguerite and Angie’s faces was out of the question. He wouldn't put her through that.

  She'd disturbed him, though. Suggesting he was looking for something different. Perhaps his disenchantment with the job was more than general malaise.

  "All done." Tamsen arrived back in the lounge, Azriel trotting behind. The cat behaved more like a dog, he thought.

  She added, "It’s washed and in the dryer, so I'm only going to have the pleasure of your nakedness to feast on for half an hour or so."

  "Damn, is that all? And here I was thinking I should break out the baby oil and we'd be able to have hours of fun playing naked Twister."

  "Don't know about naked Twister, but you've had such a lousy day why don't you let me give you a back rub?"

  He cocked his head. "Does that involve baby oil?"

  "Better." She ran a fingernail across his chest and he shivered in response. "Go settle yourself on my bed and I'll be right with you."

  "I don't need asking twice."

  Towels in hand, Tamsen turned her mind to oil combinations. Let him think this was a nice "touchy feely” session – she was in the mood for more sexual gratification and bodice ripping. On her terms. So what if the price to pay was being seamstress again? Slow and sensual was off the menu, hot and heavy was on. Lavender oil for stress and tension, ylang-ylang for heat and passion.

  Armed with supplies, she discovered the only thing missing from the bedroom was Matt. Where the hell could he have got to, she wondered. He couldn't have got lost, could he? She heard voices from the kitchen and went to investigate.

  "Bleedin' hell, a woman gets home and finds a half-naked boss lounging in her kitchen."

  A very drunken Gina was holding herself up on the kitchen bench and leering at Matt. A certain practiced huntress stare Tamsen knew well and disliked and one Gina normally reserved for the female of the species.

  Matt was clutching a glass of water and inching backwards, the look of a trapped animal in his eyes.

  "Gina, I wasn't expecting you." Tamsen wasn't sure whether to try and distract her or belt her.

  "I can see that." Gina's voice took on a predatory tone. "He's rather tidy with his clothes off, isn't he, Tams?"

  Matt looked across at Tamsen, a flash of fear crossing his features. "I was just getting a glass of water before we..."

  "Before you what, gorgeous?" Gina had him cornered, the microwave at his back. She reached out and ran one finger down the middle of his chest, the gesture lewd and suggestive.

  Matt went pale. Tamsen's stomach clenched. "Gina!" she snapped.

  Matt jumped but her drunken friend didn’t seem to register her own name. Tamsen stifled the urge to cover the space between them and pull Gina away by the hair.

  "What?" Unsteady on her feet, Gina turned to face her friend. Matt took the opportunity to slip quickly out of the tight spot by the microwave and was at Tamsen's side in an instant.

  "Just wait for me in my room, Matt." Tamsen touched him reassuringly on the arm. "I'll deal with her, she's just drunk and out of control - " she threw Gina a steely look " - as usual."

  Gina stumbled backwards, just managing to catch herself on the bench top, and slouched against the microwave, filling the space Matt had vacated. "Not as usual. Don't believe a word of it, boss man. Come on, Tams, share. Since he's here he could fuck us both. You'd like that, wouldn't you, boss?"

  Matt looked at Tamsen, fear replaced by horror. "I think you're right. I'll just wait for you." He cast a despairing glance at Gina, shook his head, and escaped down the hallway.

  Tamsen called after him, "Don't worry, I won't be long."

  "Don't worry, I won't be long." Gina's mocking singsong tone only fueled Tamsen's fury.

  She turned on her friend. "What the fuck do you think you're up to?"

  "Why do you want him, when you can have me?"

  Tamsen fought another urge to slap her. Gina was always like this when she got drunk - over the top and amorous, especially whenever Tamsen had a man around. "You can't even stand the man. Why'd you have to do that?"

  "Do what?" Gina
seemed genuinely perplexed by the question.

  "Treat him like a piece of meat."

  Gina's bottom lip started to tremble. "That's what he is, isn't he? That's what they all are. It's me you love, isn't it?"

  Tamsen felt some compassion for her friend. It wasn't her fault she kept on screwing the wrong women. Take her latest - she was a complete and utter piece of work.

  "Oh, God, Gina. We've been through this. Why do you keep doing it?" But it was useless talking to her when she was drunk. And in the morning she'd either deny this had ever happened or wouldn't remember anyway. "Come on, why don't we get you into bed."

  Gina looked at her, makeup smudged across her cheek, hair tousled; she looked as if she'd been ravaged tonight anyway. Why she thought she needed her and Matthew, Tamsen had no idea.

  "I suppose, if you're sure you don't want him to share." All the fight had gone out of her.

  "Quite sure."

  Gina laughed, high-pitched, one of those laughs only drunks seem to be able to find inside themselves. "Well, he seems to have put a smile on your face. He must be bloody good."

  The tightness in Tamsen's stomach returned. "I'm not going there with you, Gina. Just shut up about it."

  She laughed again. "Ooh, that good, huh? Wait till the girls in the office hear about this."

  Tamsen half dragged, half carried Gina down the hall and dumped her unceremoniously on her bed. Her friend’s eyes closed almost on impact. At least Tamsen and Matt wouldn't have to worry about being disturbed.

  It was an impossible time of the evening for her to be coming home drunk. 7.30? She hadn't exactly been out on the town all night.

  Tamsen entered her own room and closed the door. Matt sat unmoving on the bed, a look of thunder etched on his even features.

  "So, that'd explain why she wasn't at work today. Out somewhere getting pissed."

  Tamsen's stomach fell. "She wasn't at work?"

  "Nup." His expression hadn't changed.

  Tamsen sat gingerly on the bed beside him. Why she felt responsible for the idiot choices Gina was making she didn't know, but for some strange reason she did.

  "No doubt there's a good explanation for it."

  Matt shot her a disparaging look. "Tamsen, don't."

  "Don't what?"

  "Try to defend her. You could see how drunk she was. And from the way you dealt with her, it's not the first time she's behaved like that."

  Tamsen shrugged.

  "It's certainly not the first time she's been absent from work without any kind of explanation."

  Tamsen decided she'd heard enough. "You want that massage, or do you want to talk about my reprobate house mate?"

  He nearly smiled and she thought she saw some of the anger drain away.

  "I’d never turn down the offer of a sexy woman's hands on my body."

  Matt tried to keep his mind off the troubles of the day, which seemed to be increasing at a rapid rate. The brief sexual interlude with Tamsen had lowered his tension levels and the massage further eased his strained nerves, but the thought of his mother brought it all rushing back at a rapid rate of knots. He wished Tamsen hadn't brought it up.

  Neither did he wish to turn his mind to the comatose drunk passed out down the hall. No wonder Gina hadn't turned up at work this morning. It started to make sense too - the number of sick days, her inability to take instruction, her "not being with it" when she was on the job. The thought of having to deal with her in the morning, armed with the knowledge gleaned here tonight, made him feel physically sick. Never mind the potential damaging fallout with Tamsen.

  As for Gina’s exhibition in the kitchen, he almost shuddered. He'd never felt so trapped in his life. Well, except around his mother. Which brought him neatly back to the reason he was lying here in the first place.

  "You haven't answered me. So what happened with your mom?" Tamsen clearly wasn't going to give up on the discussion.

  He sighed heavily. "I think I mentioned to you she was the control freak from hell."

  "Something like that." She continued to massage his belly.

  Even thoughts of how hellish the day had been weren't cooling his ardor. Tamsen had the most magnificent hands; it was as if a soothing, healing current ran directly from them. Just a touch and he was putty in her hands.

  "When I arrived home from work today..." He lifted his head up so he could look her in the eye. "Some of us do work, unlike your drunken friend out there."

  "We can talk about Gina later. It's you and your mother I'm interested in at the moment. Why don't you stick to that?"

  "Ever considered being a barrister? Your approach to a direct line of questioning's right on the mark."

  She laughed. "Stop trying to change the subject."

  He dropped his head back on the pillow. "Right. Mother." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing on the pleasurable sensations coursing through his body. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad sharing with Tamsen, he thought. She seemed to have this knack of making him feel like everything would be okay.

  "So you got home from work," she prodded.

  "I'd arranged dinner for the two of us at the most expensive restaurant I could find - had to call in a couple of favors for the bookings, but that's beside the point. But then I arrived home and my bloody mother was entertaining my ex-fiancé."

  "Ooh. Nice!"

  He loved the way she had of making the right comment, in the right tone, at precisely the right moment. "Exactly. To say I was thrilled would be an understatement."

  Another tingle of pleasure ran through his body. She was massaging his pectoral muscles. He'd have happily shut up and shagged her again but there was little chance of getting away with that. Not yet, anyway.

  "So the two of you had a little show-down and you left in a white-hot rage."

  "How did you know that? Have you been stalking me?"

  "Elementary, my dear Watson." She giggled. "You were pretty angry when you got here."

  He wiggled his aching cock against her. "Parts of me were."

  She wiggled back. "No more than a natural reaction to the frustration and anger you felt at your mother. You’re just lucky I'm understanding."

  "And a bit of a whore."

  She slapped him on the thigh. Hard.

  "Sorry. I deserved that. Though I meant it in the most flattering way."

  She smiled seductively. "I know. It pays to keep you on a short leash until I have you trained right."

  Another bolt of desire shot to his nether regions. "Stop talking dirty to me. I'm having a hard enough job as it is trying to relax."

  "Would you like me to stop?"

  "No."

  "So, your mother. I take it she doesn't approve of the cancellation of the wedding she had planned?"

  "We didn't ever get as far as the planning stage. Some of the ideas Angie had about marriage woke me up to the fact I was looking at a lifetime union that would be a living hell."

  "You weren't compatible?"

  "On paper we looked perfect. It was only when I started imagining waking up with her every morning, the same old daily grind..." He was having trouble finding the words to describe the discontent he’d felt every time he turned his mind to being with her for the rest of his life.

  An anxious feeling began to stir in his stomach. He realized it was the same one he had when his mother was around. Why had he never put the two together before now?

  "It couldn't just be called pre-wedding jitters then?

  "No. I could tell it was all wrong. The day I found myself down on the waterfront looking at apartments I knew it was all over."

  "Looking at apartments?" She sounded puzzled. "But you love gardens – you can’t have a garden in an apartment."

  "Exactly. That's how it was."

  She giggled. "I see now."

  "So you can imagine how pissed off I am that Mother's decided to put her paddle in and try to resolve the 'little misunderstanding'." His tone of voice went up a couple of octaves in imitat
ion of his mother.

  Tamsen couldn't help laughing. "And I'm sure she'd beat you if she could hear you taking the mickey out of her."

  "I'd rather you did." He drew her to him, his lips finding hers in an instant. His tongue probing the warm recess of her mouth.

  She met his passion, rubbing her body against his with reckless abandon. He couldn't stand not to be inside her. The power she had to make him want her was terrifying. His desire churned inside, insatiable, like a terrible addiction - the more he fed on her, the more he wanted her.

  She pulled away from his mouth, gasping. "You'll devour me."

  "That's the idea."

  He enjoyed watching her struggle with herself. She'd been driving him wild long enough. It was satisfying watching her self-control crumble.

  "Come on." Her words conveyed a sense of order her body did not; he could still feel her trembling. "That shirt of yours must be dry by now - why don't we head out for something to eat?"

  "I thought you were hungry for me."

  "Oh, sir, but I am."

  "We could eat in."

  "Except we wouldn't eat anything."

  "Except each other." He couldn't resist.

  "Stop right now." She looked flustered. Her tangled hair hung seductively over her bare shoulders, the thin cheesecloth top scarcely covering her erect nipples. "You can do what you like, sunshine, but I'm going out for dinner."

  CHAPTER TEN

  He was a horror, Tamsen thought. At this rate she'd lose pounds. So much sex and hardly any food. Though it was the nicest possible way to slim down – beat starving herself into osteoporosis any day.

  One look in the bathroom mirror confirmed her suspicions: yep, no doubt about it, he made her hot. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked like she'd just run a marathon, not given someone a relaxing massage. She beamed at herself. Like there was any chance anyone could relax with that half-naked god underneath them. An involuntary shudder ran up her spine.