Catch (12 page)

Tamsen opened the door and his mother worries vanished. "You look stunning."

"You think so?"
 
Her skin colored as a blush stole across her even features.
 
"I was worried you might think I looked like a harlot."

"I don't have problems with harlots."
 

He couldn't help grinning. He'd made the right decision to leave Mother home alone.
 
Tamsen was the most captivating creature.
 
He'd never seen a dress like the one she wore; it gave her an exotic aura, appealing to him on levels he hadn't even known existed.

"Well, that's okay then.
 
You'd better come in." She stepped aside, allowing him to enter her apartment.

"I thought you'd never ask." He could scarcely wait to see what other hidden treasures lay beyond the threshold.

"Wine, that's thoughtful of you."

He handed her the bottle and leaned forward, pressing a light kiss on her luscious lips.
 
The touch was gentle and intimate, her lips soft and relaxed.
 
He felt as if they'd known each other for years, not mere days.
 

"You’d better show me where the kitchen is so I can get the cork out of that bottle, get you drunk, then have my wicked way with you."

"Isn't it polite to eat first?"

"Maybe we could eat after, when we've worked up an appetite?"

Laughing, she took his hand. "I could go for that.
 
We're going to have to order in 'cos I gave up on the cooking idea."

She led him into the kitchen.
 
Sudden visions of her naked on his kitchen bench invaded his mind, a corresponding recollection and interest registering in his trousers. "Hmm, nice kitchen. Shall we christen this one too?"

"Can you talk about anything except sex?"

He needed to behave himself - he could be such a jerk. "Yes.
 
If I want to."

"Why don't you try?"
 
She rummaged in a drawer and found a bottle opener.

"Have I discussed with you the advantages of investing in unit trusts?"

"Forget it, talk more smut."

It was his turn to laugh.
 
"I can't talk investment strategies then?"

"No, it's deathly dull and boring."
 
She handed him the corkscrew and he made short work of the opening, the cork coming out with a resounding pop.

"Don't you love that sound?" He looked round for glasses.
 
"Come on, out with the best crystal then."

"A nothing-but-the-best man?
 
I have to wonder what you're doing with me then."
 
She held his gaze, passing him a flute as unconventional as her. It was made of stained glass, with small green, yellow and red triangles made to look like tiny leadlight windows.

Disentangling himself from her gaze, Matt poured the wine.
 
"You, beautiful lady, happen to be the best thing that's happened to me in a long time."

"Such a flatterer."

"Well, don't tell me you weren't hunting for compliments."

"I won't."
 
She gestured toward the terrace.
 
"You want to sit inside or outside?"

"You decide."

"You're the guest, so it's your decision."

"Outside."
 
He threw her a devilish look.
 
"So does that mean I get to decide where we do what all night?"

"You plan to go all night, do you?"

"Stop it."
 
He was giddy at the thought of wallowing in her body all night.
 
"You know what I mean."

"It depends."
 
She sat herself down on the wicker two-seater facing the beach, patting the red-and-white-striped cushion next to her.

Being defiant, he leaned up against the glass panel that saved him from plummeting four floors to the ground. "On what?"

"On how well you behave yourself."

"Oh, I see."
 
He took a slow sip of the wine, eyeing her over the rim of the glass. She reminded him of a porcelain doll, her legs tucked up under her, bare feet poking out from under the ornately embroidered material of her dress. "And what happens if I'm naughty?"

Mirroring his movements, she took a sip of her wine, eyeing him over the rim.
 
It intrigued him, the way she played this version of Simon Says with him.
 
"Maybe I'd have to spank you." She said.

His pulse raced. All manner of depraved thoughts played in his head.
 
"I don't believe you'd do that."

"Well, behave - " she patted the seat next to her again " - and you won't have to worry about it, will you?"

He decided to park himself next to her.
 
"Now I don't want you thinking I'm a pushover, all right?"

"I know you're a pushover.
 
Her eyes never left his. "But don't worry about it."

They packed the last of the takeout curry boxes in the rubbish.
 
Tamsen was stuffed and she hadn't laughed so much in a long time; Matt was funny, intelligent, articulate, caring and sensitive. How the man who'd carefully lectured her on the benefits of owning a worm farm could be the same man Gina swore and cursed about was hard to see.

She was giddy with wine, but her careful attempts at engineering a retreat to the oasis that was her bathroom were failing.

"Hey, you." Matt's hands were streaked in curry sauce. "Lead me to yonder bathroom - I recall that this morning you promised me a sensual soak."

"Girly manipulation's lost on you.
 
I've been trying to get you there for the last twenty minutes, in case you hadn't noticed."

"All you had to do was ask."

"Where's the romance in that?"

"Ah."
 
He smiled.
 
"The lady wants romance.
 
I can do romance.
 
I can do anything you want me to do."

Her insides went to jelly.
 
She took his hand and led him down the short hallway to the bathroom.
 
The room was small, the sunken bath dominating, with a shower and vanity on the opposite wall.

"This is gorgeous."
 

She was pleased he appreciated the room - it was one of her favorites and she was happy to share it with him.
 

"Smells great too.
 
Have you been burning oils?"

A man who enjoyed scent; she was in heaven.
 
"No, but I will be soon.
 
You deal to your vindaloo leftovers and I'll prepare myself and the candles."

He pulled her to him, being careful not to trail vindaloo over her dress.
 
His presence was sure and demanding, it so turned her on.
 
Looking up into his deep brown eyes, she realized the light made it difficult to see where his pupil and iris met – they were just pools of darkness.
 
She was overwhelmed by his beauty and the thought that she would soon have the pleasure of exploring every little nook and cranny of him at her leisure.

"Might not be the only things burning by the end of the night if I have anything to do with it."
 
He kissed her with a force and passion that left her breathless with desire.

A shiver ran down her spine as she lit the candles.
 
He was glorious.
 
She poured a dab of scented bubble bath into the rapidly filling tub, then positioned herself on the top of the toilet lid, intent on watching Matt.
 
He was surveying the water, a distant look on his face. Maybe he was having some small out-of-body experience, scent could do that for you.
 
She couldn't fail to remember her grandmother whenever she smelled mint; it brought back happy memories of preparing sauce for Sunday lamb lunches.
 
A quiet moment of being somewhere else, with someone else, locked in an aroma.
 

When he at last snapped out of it she asked him, "Where were you?"
 
She idly swung her legs backwards and forwards, her bare feet catching on the heated tiles underfoot.

"Right here."

"No, you weren't."

He looked puzzled, then cocked his head and looked up at her as if peering over a pair of imaginary glasses. "I was sitting in the bath as a child and my mother was banging on the door, trying to get me out, but she couldn't. Doesn't really make much sense."
 

He straightened up. "I don't particularly want to talk about my mother anyway.
 
I've got better things to do."

"You have?"

He turned the taps off.
 
"I have.
 
I'm about to strip you naked and have my wicked way with you."

"Is that right?"
 
She pulled her legs up under herself and sat perched atop the toilet like a pixie on a toadstool.
 
"I'm afraid I've got news for you.
 
You're going to stand over there and strip."

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard.
 
Start ripping it off.
 
I haven't got all night."

"I was good.
 
This is a vile and evil punishment I don't deserve."

"True, but you'll do it anyway."

"I will, will I?"

"Oh yes."

"And why's that?"
 
His voice was menacing, but she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was happy playing her game.

"Because of your reward."

"Reward?"

"I'll make it worth your while."
 
She dropped her chin on her knees and hugged her legs, pressing her advantage home.
 
"So get on with it."

He was a vision with his clothes on, but she looked forward to viewing him at leisure with them off.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

She nodded.

"I want you to know that I'm an amateur and I don't do this."

"There's a first time for everything.
 
Now hurry up.
 
Or do I have to go and get a whip?"

His features froze in shock for half a second; then he looked at her, took in her grin and relaxed. "You had me going there for a minute."

"I'll have you going for longer than a minute."

"I need you to come over here and help me.
 
The hands-on approach."

"You're having those mummy fantasies again, aren't you?"

"Don't."
 
He grimaced and she couldn't help giggling.
 
"Get that tidy ass of yours over here and be my hands. I can undress myself any old time - I want you to do it."

"I suppose that could be fun, and since you asked so very, very nicely..."

Having uncurled herself from the toilet, she padded over to him.
 
"You've got to take off your own shoes and socks.
 
I don't do the shoe thing."

"I don't have to worry about finding you bonding with my boots, huh?"

"Gross.
 
Hurry up and get them off - you've wasted enough time tonight."

He slipped his shoes and socks off, throwing them to one side.
 
"So I could still be up for punishment then?"

"Very brave now that I'm off my pedestal and over here, aren't you?"

He reached out, pulling her to him by the shoulders, their faces millimeters from each other.
 
"I am, so be very afraid."
 

With that he kissed her hard, his tongue snaking into her mouth, searching and demanding.
 
She felt on fire; her entire body responded to him, her heart pounded. She wanted to slap him, run from him - his treatment cruel and savage - but she also wanted more.
 

She felt herself get wet and slick, just from a kiss.
 
She craved him, desired him like she'd never desired before; it was overwhelming and frightening.

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.