Buying Thyme

by TJ Hamilton

  “What kind of adventure are we going on today?” I ask rather eager to know what Tench is up to again.

  “We’re taking out my mistress.” His eyes light up with the thought.

  “Pardon?” I’m assuming he doesn’t mean a person. Otherwise I would imagine I’m the only person he would refer to as his mistress!

  “I’ll show you in good time Miranda. Now what do you think about prawn and spiced lime baguettes?”

  “They sound fine.” I sip my coffee in anticipation of the unknown. What is Tench up to now? Does he do this with all the women he tries to woo in his life? Is he even trying to woo me? I’m just a prostitute after all. Essentially, he can treat me any way he wishes during our booking. There’s no reason to impress me, that’s for sure. I’m only here because I’m being paid to be here. I think I’d like to keep it that way too. No matter what his intentions are. Or what all this affection he’s showing towards me means. I continue to remind myself that I too, must to keep this strictly business.

  “Feel free to get yourself another bikini from the pool house for our day out.” He says with a charming smile.

  “And you’re not going to tell me where we’re going or what we’re doing?” I try again to get an answer out of Tench.

  “Nope.” He says, raising his eyebrows and smiling as he shakes his head.

  I decide to wear the same bikini and kaftan as the day before. I figure there’s no use wasting bikinis just for the sake of it, no matter how much money Tench has. I fish around in my suitcase for my Ray-Ban aviator sunglasses, and decide I had better dose up on sun lotion before heading out. I slip on some flat sandals and grab my handbag, tossing in Great Expectations, and finally remember to take a strip of condoms with me. I twist my hair up into a high slick top-knot as I head back downstairs and find Tench talking to Toni near the bar.

  “I know what you’re saying, but I just want to be left alone Toni. Just one day. I have my phone. Use one of the telescopes up in the observatory if you need.”

  What on earth does Toni need a telescope for? Where is Tench taking me? Is it dangerous? Tench notices me coming down the stairs over Toni’s shoulder and smiles, “I like this one.” He says as he puts his arm around my waist and rubs my thigh.

  “So you’re all ready to go?” Tench reaches down and takes my hand in his.

  “Yeah… I guess so.” I notice Toni has a troubled look on his face.

  Suddenly I feel very vulnerable in Tench’s company. I remind myself that the Agency know who I’m with. So if I was to go missing, then they’d know where to find me right? So I can’t be in any kind of danger surely? I look up at Tench and back at Toni who is looking down at the ground. Tench catches my look of concern.

  “Ah, don’t worry about him Miranda. He’s just annoyed that he’s not coming with us on such a picturesque day.”

  “It’s not that boss. It’s just… with everything that’s gone on lately… that’s all.” Toni says with trepidation in his voice.

  “Come on Miranda. Let’s get out there. The day is getting away from us while we stand here debating this issue with Toni. I’ll call you when we need picking up.” He says to Toni, and picks up the large wicker picnic basket from the bar in one hand. The basket must be heavy, the sudden weight of it tilts him to one side. Toni rushes to him.

  “Here boss let me take that down there for you.” He says as he grabs the basket out of Tench’s hand.

  Toni holds his hand outward motioning us to walk past. As we’re walking I notice Tench’s immaculate dress standard. He’s donning a fantastic cream Panama hat with his cream chino pants, rolled up at the bottom with brown boat shoes and a light blue button up shirt. Damn! I wish I had a big sun hat for wherever we’re going. Tench heads out on the terrace towards the harbour. So I know that we’re going on a picnic… A picnic? Really Joe Tench?

  He guides me to the side of the pool house and I notice a set of stairs leading down to the waters edge, where a small boathouse sits. Beside it is a small wharf where the most spectacular luxury motor-yacht is docked. Wow! I didn’t even notice you could access the water from property yesterday, when I was beside the pool. The yacht must easily be over a hundred feet in length. The hull is a nautical dark blue and contrasts beautifully with the white top half of the yacht. As we edge down to the wharf I see the name of the boat ‘Miss Stress’ across its stern in a metallic gold. Ah… his mistress! There is a superb wooden deck across the stern of the boat, and another lower deck, sitting flush with the wharf. Two staircases lead up either side of the rear pontoon. Tench releases my hand and steps across the narrow gap between the wharf and the boat’s pontoon, and holds out both of his hands to assist me getting across. Toni hands over the picnic basket. We head up the stairs and into the huge cabin of the Miss Stress.

  “Okay. Grand tour.” Tench says as he places the picnic basket down on the coffee table in the main saloon.

  The boat’s interior is rich dark wood with cream carpet, cream leather couches and black finishes in the cushions and other accessories. The starboard side of the main saloon has a beautiful dark dining table for eight, with a corner bench along the wall on one side. The bench is scattered with bright orange cushions. Beyond the dining table is the lower helm station, with two large black leather captain-style chairs and a large board in front of the window, teeming with controls and navigational gadgets. The galley to the port side is fancier than my kitchen at home, with white granite bench tops and black cupboards, complete with stainless steel oven, cook top and other appliances. All the mod cons one would be proud of in their own home, let alone on a boat. Once again, I feel overwhelmed by the sheer extravagance of Joe Tench, “Did you want to look at the bedrooms downstairs now or later?” He says with a mischievous smirk.

  I try and maintain my poise and remember that I’m being paid right now, so I should do as he suggests. Even though I really need to sit down before I fall down.

  “We could look now?” I say with an unconvincing smile.

  Tench’s eyes narrow at me. My mind races. What must he be thinking right now?

  “No. I want to save you for later. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll go and help Toni cast us off.” Tench says as he leaves the saloon.

  I take a seat on the corner bench opposite to where the helm area is. This way I can see out the front and be close to Tench. I feel the boat rock slightly as we float away from the wharf. Tench comes back to take his seat at the helm. Pushing a button, the entire yacht rattles under the immense twin V12 engines below. The water muffles the boats guttural purrs, and we launch towards the open harbour ahead. Toni’s voice broadcasts out of a speaker on the control panel, “Tango Tango to Mike Sierra.”

  “Mike Sierra.” Tench rolls his eyes at me as he replies into the hand held receiver.

  “Oh good boss. Just confirming that we have the Jet Ski’s on standby if anything happens okay.”

  “Copy. Thank you Toni.” He says as he places the receiver back onto the hook, “Toni is a little hyper sensitive when I do things without him.” He says trying to comfort me.

  “But we’re not going far away at all. See that island just in the middle of the harbour there.” He points to the tiny island in the short distance.

  “That’s Clark Island. It’s ours for the day. I’ve hired the whole island so that we can be alone.”

  His grin is infectious and soon enough I can’t stop smiling. I don’t know if it’s from being out on the water or in this amazing boat or the fact that Tench has hired out an entire island on the harbour for us to spend the day together… completely alone. He’s even called Toni off for the day. Is that wise given the avowed incidents of late that have caused so many burdens on Tench? Incidents that has apparently turning him into an affectionate recluse!

  The boat slices through the water with ease as we approach the diminutive island ahead. Tench shifts the boat into neutral and looks at me with a soft smile. The boat slows to a placid drift.

  “Come a
nd hold the wheel steady for me gorgeous, while I tie off.” He says in a half demand, half encouraging manner.

  I sit at the helm and hold the wheel steady as the boat glides gracefully and gently, alongside the island’s wharf. I look out of the starboard side. Tench has jumped onto the wharf to sling the ropes around the low bitts attached to the wharf. He manoeuvres around the wharf like an experienced seaman. I remain at the helm with the wheel completely steady until Tench comes back into the cabin,

  “You can cut the engine now gorgeous. Just press the big red button on the control board.” He’s gleaming like an excited schoolboy as he almost skips about the cabin.

  I hit the switch and the engine grumbles to a dead silence and all that can be heard is the soft ripples of the water licking against the side of the hull. Tench potters in the galley and emerges with a bottle of champagne in a handled wine bucket. He’s still smiling as he grabs the picnic basket and places the champagne on top of it. He then leans down at a side cupboard in the main saloon and pulls out a soft blue and white checked picnic rug. I grab my handbag and follow Tench to the back deck,

  “Oh, I almost forgot the towels.” He stops and turns to me,

  “Can you head down the stairs and the first cupboard directly in front is full of towels. Thanks gorgeous.” He says with appreciation.

  I head down to the stairs on the port side of the saloon, to the lower level. It too is beautifully crafted in the same dark wood as the saloon area above. There are a series of doors that lead off the corridor. From what I can see, there are four bedrooms and a bathroom in my immediate view. Whoa! This has to be the most luxurious boat I have ever seen! I quickly grab two large black and white striped beach towels from the cupboard and head back up the stairs to where Tench is patiently waiting for me. He leans in and gives me a quick but enthusiastic kiss, before turning and heading for the stairs. I follow him onto the lower pontoon and watch him skip effortlessly onto the wharf. I hop onto the wharf with ease also and follow Tench onto the grassy island shaded by native trees. A short walk leads us over to the northern tip of the island where a group of wide palm trees swell out of the grass. Walking beyond the palms we throw our blanket and ourselves beside the small strip of sand by the waters edge. The island has a gorgeous unobstructed view over the city and the harbour bridge. In all my time in Sydney, I have neither been to, nor even taken any notice of this secluded little island. Tench places the picnic basket and wine bucket down, and lays out the rug on the grass. He unbuttons his shirt, exposing a glimpse of the inked dragon on his magnificent chest. He sits, and reclines back onto the rug. I roll the towels up and put them at the top of the rug to create two cushions, and I too lean back down next to Tench.

  “Drink gorgeous?” He asks as he reaches over to the basket and pulls out two champagne glasses.

  “Yes please.”

  I lean on my elbows and watch the various water craft pass by the island. I’m not quite sure of why Tench has brought me here, or what his motives are yet again. I attempt to gain some information from him, in order to aid my overactive mind a little.

  “So do you do this kind of thing for all the girls?” I ask in a playful way, hoping to lessen the recognition of an interrogation.

  “I haven’t, no. You know me Miranda. I’ve never really had to impress women. Specially not a specific individual.” Tench responds without raising his eyes from the champagne he’s pouring.

  Did he just say he’s trying to impress me? I guess that’s fairly obvious given the past forty odd hours, but why? Why me? I try and find some clever words to respond to that statement, but my wit deserts me. I take the glass of champagne from Tench’s outstretched hand and take a sip. Staring blankly out into the harbour, I try to seem untroubled by his confession but I can feel Tench staring at me. I daren’t look back at him and maintain my ignorance towards the subject. I just don’t want to know more therefore, I don’t want to ask any further questions. I just have to let my energetic mind make up its own theory and go along with the Joe Tench ride for now.

  “Let’s see what Mrs Oktar has packed for us.” Tench says while looking through the picnic basket. He pulls out a round, flat container and takes the lid off to reveal a delicious looking assortment of antipasto. He takes out two small forks made of bamboo and two small matching plates, and places them down on the rug. He also takes out a container of baguettes with lettuce and prawns spilling out of the middle of them, and yet another tray of beautiful fresh fruit. I smile as I realise Mrs Oktar is very observant and already knows me too well, including only the fruits that I finished yesterday on the platter.

  “Bon Appetite Mademoiselle.” Tench says with a smile and picks up a fork and starts placing pieces of rolled prosciutto and marinated eggplant onto his plate.

  “Since antipasto is Italian, shouldn’t that be Buon Appetito Senorita?” I ask audaciously.

  “Ah… Miranda. Too smart for your own good.” He says as he leans over and kisses me. His kiss deepens but both our hands remain on our plates. The kiss sends a thrill up my spine and I feel my lower regions begin to pulse under the sensation. Tench pulls away slow and seductively and keeps his eyes closed as he sucks on his lips.

  “Mmm… Miranda. You really do drive me wild.” He professes as his eyes open and fix on me with fervent intensity.

  The antipasto is half devoured by the both of us. I just finish eating one of the baguettes when I notice someone waving at us from a Jet Ski, some hundred metres off shore. Tench laughs and waves back and the Jet Ski takes off again, hurtling back towards the southern end of the island.

  “Toni?” I ask.

  “No I think that was Pete, one of the other security team, but it is definitely my Jet Ski. I’d imagine Toni would be at the mini command post he’s set up back at the boat house.”

  I can’t decide whether it’s good to know that we’re always being looked after. I also find it unnerving to know that our every move is probably being watched, not just with Tench’s security team either, I’m sure. No doubt there would be media hiding out somewhere.

  “Do you think people recognise your boat?” I ask, suddenly feeling exposed out on the open harbour.

  “Yes unfortunately. She’s the only Sunseeker 88 Yacht on the harbour that’s called Miss Stress.”

  “Oh. So do you get followed by the media much when you’re out on your boat?” I look out onto the water to see if I notice any suspicious looking craft nearby. It dawns on me that this is my first public outing with Tench since he’s come back from Las Vegas. Considering his own confession that he is a prisoner in his own home, I start to feel apprehensive about who may actually be watching me right now.

  “Yes they do follow me sometimes. But don’t worry, not today they won’t. Between Toni and the boys on the Jet Skis, no one can get within a mile of here.”

  I wasn’t really asking Tench about anyone approaching the island. But now that he mentioned it, I feel far less confident about being out here with him than I did before. Is this what it would be like if I were to be with Tench all the time? No thanks! I like my life far simpler and far less complicated than this. I wonder what the time is? It must be time for us to head back to the mansion soon, so that I can pack my things and return to the Agency. The booking should almost be over. I have the sudden overwhelming feeling that I want to be back in the seclusion of the boat, and out of the prying eyes of god-knows-whom. The isolation of this little spot, now feels so exposed, thanks to being in the company of someone like Joe Tench.

  “Do you know what the time is?” I try to ask as casually as possible, despite my inner commentary.

  “Yeah it’s time to get you onto my boat and out of that outfit I think!” His words chime like bells in my ears.

  I wonder if he can see right through me at this moment? I smile sweetly back at him. More in relief than in anticipation, but I’ll leave him to formulate an assumption of my happy mood. I help pack up our delightful picnic. A part of me wishes that Tench did
n’t come with all this baggage, so I could enjoy a moment like this more.

  “What about all this delicious fruit left?” I ask disappointed.

  “Who said we were going back yet?” Tench replies.

  He carries the basket and rug and I carry my handbag, the towels and wine bucket, and follow Tench towards the middle of the island. A group of trees are built up in the centre. I wonder where he’s leading me when I see a little shelter, amongst a slight clearing between the trees. As we approach, Tench looks at me and winks. The shelter is screened off on two sides with latticework. The other two sides are covered in shrubs and trees, sitting back from it to allow access in and out of the enclosed retreat. Inside, there is a picnic table and two benches either side. Tench places the picnic basket down on the ground and lays the blanket over the table. He turns and takes the items out of my hands one by one and places them also on the ground, refusing to take his eyes off of me as he does. I know exactly where this is going.

  “Another picnic Mr Tench?” I smile cheekily at him, but the back of my mind still lingers on the thoughts of who may be watching us.

  “Dessert!” Tench returns the cheeky smile as he pulls me over to the table’s top.

  I begin to wonder why I am unable to be the dominant one around Tench during this two-day booking? Don’t tell me I’m actually being swept up in his desire to impress me? Tench embraces me in a lingering kiss and guides me over to the edge of the table.

  “Oh no!” I say as I turn him towards the table, “My turn for dessert.”

  I pull at Tench’s chinos and kneel down in front of him, exposing his handsome erection. I haven’t performed any oral sex on him during the entire two days, and knowing full well that we are being watched, I decided this is the best defence against full-blown public sex! I turn around and grab the half-full bottle of champagne and take a mouth full in a very un-ladylike manner, straight from the bottle. Turning back to Tench, I sink my mouth over his erection, pausing for a moment for him to feel the bubbles dance around his length. Tench groans under the feeling, running his fingers through the back of my hair. He pushes his hips forward to load my mouth full of his erection. I swallow the champagne as I glide backwards and forwards over him, he tastes sweet and cold with the mixture of champagne. I roll my tongue around the tip of his erection. This action increases as my mouth slides all over his pulsing girth. My hand travels up his thigh and my fingers gently find the roundness of his package. I trace gently around the contours of his sack. I feel his thighs start to quiver as the gentle stroking of his package increases. His throbbing inside my mouth begins to increase to a steady pulse. My mouth drives deeper and deeper over him as I feel him almost succumbing to the build up. He leans back on the picnic table with one hand back and the other softly stroking my hair, then he grips onto the back of my head and rams himself deep into my mouth as he calls out,