Catch

by Kenyon, Toni

  "You're beautiful, do you know that?"

  She smiled. It lit up her face and he couldn't help smiling back.

  "If you keep telling me, I might just start believing it."

  "Well, you should, because you are." It felt good to see her happy and knowing he had a part in causing that joy. A feeling of love and attachment welled up inside him, a tide of intense, fuzzy heat rolling up his body.

  "What do you want to do with the rest of the night?" she asked, the twinkle in her eye warning of pleasures he didn't dare to try and envisage.

  "I want to take you back to our room and ravish you, sleep it off, and then repeat the whole procedure until the sun comes up." He allowed his imagination to run riot – a new experience. "Then I want to order dessert for breakfast and sit in bed eating it - with strong coffee, you and a morning paper."

  "You might get newsprint on the sheets."

  He laughed. "I'm sure newsprint on the sheets will be the least of our worries."

  She looked thoughtful. "Sounds decadent enough for a holiday. Lead the way, Mr Solomon."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Tamsen was barely in the door before she felt his iron grip. Spinning her round, he kicked the door shut behind them, the sudden assault on her body and senses making her jump.

  "A little on edge tonight, are we, sweetness?" His tone and the look in his eyes screamed lust.

  "Shaking with desire for you, actually." It was the truth. The ride up in the lift had seemed an eternity. All she wanted to do was devour him.

  "I can help with that." He picked her up in one swift movement, and the gesture unhinged the hunger she'd been trying to contain. She reached out with her tongue to that soft, secret place behind his ear and tasted him.

  He squeezed her closer as they moved toward the center of the room. The bed had been turned down and a chocolate wrapped in gold paper lay on each pillow.

  "I love it when they do the chocolate thing. It's so indulgent, don't you think?"

  He dropped her on the bed and lay on top of her. "I can think of far more debauched things about a bed than chocolate."

  She leaned up and licked his throat, his Adam's apple vibrating under her tongue. "And things that taste better?" she teased.

  "Come here and let me taste you then." His tone was urgent, sparking longing inside her. Even through his aloofness he had the strange ability to draw her closer with his every word.

  His scent and nearness fueled her aching need for him. "Let me get these clothes off." The words came out as a near whine. "I need to feel your skin on me."

  He was off her in a moment, strong hands tearing the jade material from her flesh. She felt like a butterfly being freed from its cocoon.

  "I love your body, your skin...so smooth." His words whispered across her breasts between warm, sensual kisses.

  Desire to touch him overwhelmed her. Dealing to his buttons with efficiency, ripping his shirt from his body, she delighted in flinging it across the bed in a dramatic fashion. Around him she felt dramatic, inspired, playful - a whole horde of mixed emotions.

  She'd always felt inhibited about sex, but she didn't feel this with Matt. She wanted him to look at her. She didn't care that her boobs might sag, or that she had stretch marks on her thighs from her constant teenage yo-yo dieting. Under his gaze she was aware of nothing except the fact that he wanted her - adored her - and she liked that.

  She struggled with his belt. What was it about the immediacy of lust that turned you into a fumbling idiot, she wondered.

  "Here, let me help." Matt brushed her hands away and deftly saw to the bothersome piece of leather. "There, that's better." She was assaulted by his hard cock, its heat offset by cool silk boxers.

  She moaned with pleasure. "I don't know which I adore more - the feel of the silk on my skin, or knowing that you want me so much."

  He moved over her again, pressing his hardness into her tummy, forcing her legs wide apart, the rough stitching of his jeans cutting into her soft inner thighs and only arousing her more.

  She ached to feel him inside her and vainly pushed her pubis skyward, moaning in frustration when there was nothing to grind it against.

  "God, I want you," he whispered, his tongue finding the warmth of her mouth.

  Her pubic bone hit pay dirt and she was rewarded with the feel of cock thrusting against her. He eased his mouth away from hers; she could feel his hot breath on her neck. He teased her with the tip of his tongue, tracing patterns around her ear.

  "Get rid of those clothes. I want you in me."

  "Patience, baby cakes. We've got all night and I intend to use every last minute of it."

  She shuddered, her body responding to his promise.

  Abruptly he lifted himself up off her, almost as if he was intent on proving he was a man of his word and would make her wait. He set to removing his shoes and socks and she set to releasing his cock from its silken prison.

  There was something wonderful about feeling the head of a man's cock on her lips and face.

  "Who taught you how to do that?" Matt's words were interspersed between moans. Powerful urges ran the length of her body, a sense of universal energy fueling her every movement. She felt alive, vital and in control.

  "I can't stand much more of that." Matt pulled himself from her glistening lips. "I've something else I want to put in that gorgeous mouth of yours."

  Reaching over her, his lean, muscular body further inflaming her need, he produced one of the small golden chocolates and began slowly unwrapping it, a look of mischief in his eyes.

  "I'd rather have you than chocolate." It was the truth.

  "Well, I want to sweeten you up." He held the star-shaped treat just short of her lips and she couldn't resist reaching for it with the tip of her tongue, adding to the overall feeling of decadence.

  He waggled a finger at her. "Naughty, naughty, you're in such a rush. I want to make this last."

  "You want to make everything last tonight." She moved onto her hands and knees, enjoying the illusion of begging.

  He licked a point on the star, a streak of chocolate running across his tongue like lava over a mountainside. "Now, no biting." He looked menacing. "Or I'll have to bite you."

  His tone did nothing to quell the rising tide of lust and she offered herself to him unconditionally.

  The fine point of chocolate began to melt as he ran it over her lips, the smooth, creamy texture coating them. It reminded her of honey drizzling over hot pancakes.

  "Lick it off."

  That feeling of decadence returned as she tasted the sweet treat. "Hmm. It's mint. You want some more?" The idea of returning the favor appealed.

  He handed her the chocolate; it was slippery in her fingers. May as well be bold, she thought, pushing her tongue out between her lips. He rewarded her with a flicker of acknowledgement in his eyes and his sweet chocolate-coated fingers on her outstretched tongue.

  "You're getting the hang of this, aren't you?" he asked. She'd never have believed eating a chocolate could be so sexy.

  The shrill ringing of the phone startled her and she dropped the chocolate. "Shit. Now there's going to be chocolate all over the bedding."

  "Don't worry about it. I'm sure they've seen worse." He still had a glint of guilty pleasure in his eye. God, she wanted him.

  The phone continued to ring. She needed to ignore it, but an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She looked at Matt.

  "Leave it. It's not important," he said.

  "How do you know?"

  "Because no one knows we're here."

  "Except Gina." She couldn't hide the urgency in her voice.

  "She's a fruit-loop, Tams. Just leave it."

  His tone was so abrupt. She didn't know what to do. Everything screamed to answer the damn phone.

  Tamsen made a move toward it.

  "I said leave it!" He grabbed her arm.

  "You're hurting me."

  "I'm sorry." He relaxed his grip just as th
e shrill ringing from the phone ceased. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Sexual tension and escalating pleasure replaced by painful quiet and budding resentment.

  The flashing light on the phone dial, testament to a message left, pulled at her gut. But the dejected look on Matt's face hurt even more.

  Matt removed the almost melted chocolate from the cream linen, a hideous tan smear testament to the heat of their now chilled arousal.

  "Chocolate's supposed to activate the same sensors in the brain that love does." It was a ridiculous thing to say. Why didn't she just keep her mouth shut?

  "Is that so?" He couldn't hide the sarcasm in his voice. "I'm tired and I'm going to have a shower."

  "Would you like me to come scrub your back?"

  "That would depend." He threw her a challenging look.

  "On what?" She wasn't going to back down.

  She'd kill Gina when she got home; this really was the last straw. A fortnight of no talkies and then, as soon as Tamsen was out of the country, plaintive, whining phone calls making all sorts of ridiculous demands. A bucket of aquatic weed, probably stolen from somewhere, did not a friendship mend. The more Tamsen thought about it the angrier she became.

  "On you leaving the phone alone for the rest of the night," Matt said, "I'd like to have your undivided attention, if that's at all possible."

  Tamsen smiled. "I'm all yours. You know, the more I think about it, the more I can see where you're coming from about Gina."

  "Good." His face softened. "I knew you were a smart girl and would see reason eventually."

  As much as she hated herself, Tamsen bloomed under his approval. "So does that mean the back scrub's on then?"

  "It does." He slapped her hard on the backside. "Now, get thee to the bathroom, wench, and get that shower started."

  Leaping off the bed, Tamsen worried that she might have found the slap far too arousing.

  Sweet pastries and the morning newspaper - there was nothing more a man could wish for, Matt thought as he unfolded The Age. It didn't matter where he woke, as long as there was a local newspaper he could avail himself of he was in heaven. Nothing like being informed. Why, only last week he'd blown one of his colleagues’ clients away with his opinion on the pros and cons of leaving sheep at high altitudes unshorn.

  "That wouldn't be coffee I can smell, would it?" Tamsen's voice was thick with sleep; if at all possible, she sounded even sexier than usual.

  "It sure is. Would you like some?"

  "Hmm. Yes, please." She had the tousled look of someone who'd been indulging in passionate sex all night. Which of course, he reminded himself, she had.

  His own perkiness amazed him, but waking up beside Tamsen was a real thrill. On a high for the day already, he barely needed the coffee. Pouring the fragrant liquid into an espresso cup, he stopped mid-pour.

  "Hey, you don't drink coffee. Only that herbal muck."

  His train of thought went right off the rails when she stretched unselfconsciously, the bed linen falling away from her pert nipples and pooling at her ample hips. Squeezable hips they were - not the sort that would slip through a man's hands, but the variety you could get a good hold of. He loved them, even if she didn't.

  "Coffee's good in the morning when I've had next to no sleep." She grinned, scratching a shoulder blade. He was sure she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

  "You could have gone to sleep any time you wanted to."

  "Like there was any chance I could have said no to you during the night."

  He finished pouring the coffee. "What flavor?"

  "Coffee flavor." He could hear the confusion in her voice.

  "No - milk? Sugar?"

  "Black with one."

  "One what?" He so loved teasing her.

  "Don't be a dick."

  "I'm not putting that in there."

  "I should hope not. Hell, you never know where it's been." Even half asleep she was gorgeous, desirable and smart. What more could a man ask for?

  Setting the pastries and newspapers out picnic style on the bed, he joined her for a bizarre breakfast. He couldn't remember the last time he'd read the paper in bed. Tamsen was fun and she brought out the best in him.

  They browsed the paper and grazed on breakfast, tentatively feeding each other pastries between bouts of laughter and gulps of coffee.

  "So, what do you want to do today?" He'd been indulging her and he wanted to continue doing so.

  "I thought I might go to church."

  "What?" He nearly choked on his coffee. "Won't the roof fall in or something?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  He tugged on the silver pentacle at her throat. "Witches going to church? Surely it's not the done thing?"

  "Nothing wrong with it at all."

  "Don't you have covens to go to or something like that?"

  "Only if you belong to one. I'm a solitary practitioner."

  He looked puzzled. "You can do that? Just decide you're going to be a witch and, hey presto, before you can wiggle your nose you are one?"

  "Don't be facetious."

  "I wasn't. I’m just wondering how the hell one becomes a witch. You can't just decide, surely?"

  "Well...I suppose, yes. You can."

  "That's ridiculous." He couldn't hide his contempt. "Doesn't it run in families or something?"

  He watched as she wrinkled her nose in that delicate way she had when she was thinking hard. "You might be talking about family teachings. You know, handing down information from generation to generation."

  "What did you do - go to witches school?" The thought made him laugh – until he saw the look on her face.

  "You can do, if that's what you want."

  "You're pulling my leg, right?"

  Though maybe not, he thought. At this rate, there was a good chance he'd be hopping out of here after she turned him into a toad. "Okay, I'll be quiet and serious. Tell me about your faith."

  Tamsen's demeanor softened. "What makes you call it my faith?"

  "Because that's what it must be. A power greater than yourself, right?"

  She nodded.

  "So it has to be a faith."

  "I'm sorry, Matt. Most people are just so dumbfounded by Wicca - they expect me to be some Buffy type, or make fun of me. You know, asking whether or not I dance naked on the full moons, or have a Whitelighter who arrives out of nowhere."

  "Well, do you?"

  "Have a Whitelighter?"

  "Dance naked under the full moon."

  She blushed. "Sometimes."

  "Would you do it for me?" He was enjoying flirting with her, gauging the reaction. It was like lighting a candle and watching the flame splutter into life.

  "I might." She grinned. "But only if you did too."

  "I doubt there'd be much dancing if I got naked with you. I don't recall doing the foxtrot last night." He pulled the sheet away from her stomach, exposing the milky flesh.

  She arched her back in response. "Hungry for some more, are you?"

  "I am." He launched himself at her nakedness, undoing his toweling robe in a flash, the sensation of flesh-to-flesh contact causing an immediate arousal in him.

  "What about our discussion on faith?" she sputtered from under the rain of kisses he was showering on her face.

  "That can wait. I've far more important and pressing matters to deal with."

  "So. Are you going to tell me where we're off to on this mission of yours?"

  Tamsen noted the slight irritation in Matt's voice and made a mental note. He liked to be in control.

  "No." She smiled sweetly. "I told you, it's a surprise."

  "And I told you I don't like surprises."

  "You're just going to have to trust me." She linked her arm through his and started walking down the steps of the hotel toward the street.

  "Hey." He stopped and she nearly lost her footing. She'd been careful to put low heels on, it being a reasonable walk to St Patrick's, but she hadn't wanted to compromise sen
suality too much. Running shoes were out of the question with her princess-line dress. "We're taking the Boxter, right?"

  "No, Matt, we're walking. Now come on."

  She pulled him on down the steps and he begrudgingly came with her, muttering under his breath.

  "What's the use of hiring a bloody Porsche if we don't use the damn thing? I don't enjoy walking, you know."

  "Rubbish - you must spend hours on that nasty jogging contraption in your basement. But there's nothing like the real thing."

  She threw him a beaming smile. He still looked determined to have a lousy time whatever she did. "Besides, you didn't mind walking to the restaurant last night."

  "That was different."

  "How?"

  "We were going to get something to eat."

  "Ah. So it's different if there's nourishment involved."

  "I suppose." He sounded defensive.

  "Well, just think of this as nourishment for the soul."

  "You're nuts. You know that, don't you?"

  "If you say so." His attitude wasn't going to ruin her morning.

  She'd been looking forward to this for ages. The cathedral was one of the first places she'd discovered on the internet when she found out they were going to Melbourne. She had a passion for all places of worship and then she read about the Pilgrim Path and ever since had itched to walk it.

  Ten minutes later, with Collins Street at their backs and Macarthur Street stretching before them, Tamsen was glad to leave the hustle and bustle of the inner city behind. St Patrick's sat proudly at the top of the street, the sight of its triple spires stirring her excitement.

  "Come on, Matt, it’s not too far - just up the hill."

  "I thought we were going to a church? This is the way to the cathedral."

  "Yeah?" She was puzzled.

  "But you said we were going to a church."

  "It is a church." What was he going on about?

  "No. A church is a building with a cross on the roof. This is a cathedral."

  She'd done it again. She had no idea how she did, but she'd managed to find herself another Catholic. She must have "Heathen in need of saving" tattooed across her forehead or something.