Catch (32 page)

"Mother..."
 
He was trying hard to be civil, but all he wanted to do was shake her.
 
"I've had the day from hell.
 
I'm going to order in a pizza and then go to bed with my girlfriend.
 
My girlfriend, Tamsen!"
 

He was so close to Marguerite as he spat out his words she jumped.
 
"I suggest you forget Angie ever existed and make arrangements to be on the first flight back to Sydney tomorrow or - " he lowered his tone to menacing "- I can't be held responsible for some of the things I might say or do."

It had all become clear to Matt. His crisis of faith at the Cathedral in Melbourne. Finding Gina strung up in Tamsen's flat. Life was short. He needed to make some changes and the first of them was standing up to his mother.
 

He moved to within an inch of Marguerite's face, so close he could see where her translucent face powder collected in the small vertical creases between her eyes. "I have no desire to destroy what's left of our relationship, Mother, but if you continue to meddle in my life then I will."
 
Her eyes were wide with shock.
 
"Are. We. Very. Clear. On. This?"

Marguerite inched slowly away from him, eyes like saucers, never leaving his.
 
"We'll talk about it in the morning, Matthew."
 
She turned and bid a hasty retreat, he assumed to the guest room.
 

He'd have to suction her out.

Azriel lay stretched out and purring at Tamsen's feet.
 
He'd circumnavigated the room, satisfied himself there was no way out, and eventually settled next to her prostrate form.
 
Matt, poor exhausted soul, didn't object when the litter tray went into his adjoining bathroom.
 
He'd even been so kind as to bring her little furry friend a saucer of milk to wash down his dinner.
 
Tamsen figured Matt must be too beat from the scene with his mother.
 
She shuddered, thinking about the woman. The words vile and wretched came to mind.

A nightmarish day and now hunger had set in with a vengeance.
 
However the gentle vibration of her companion's purring went a little way to soothe her spent soul.
 

"A la carte dining, mademoiselle."
 
Matt swung a pizza box into the bedroom, bowing lavishly and placing it, complete with garlic bread and potato wedges, on the duvet.
 
Azriel lifted his head, sniffed the cardboard suspiciously, gave Tamsen an I-wouldn't-eat-that-if-it-was-the-last-morsel-on-earth look and returned to his slumber.

She giggled.
 
"He's not impressed with your cooking, but I'm past caring."

"Well, I'm not trying to impress him."
 
Matt leaned over placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
 
"It's nice to hear you laugh."

"I'm so over crying.
 
I'm sure there are no tears left.
 
I've cried myself dry."

Matt opened the pizza box and the room filled with the delicious aroma of spicy meats and melted cheese. "Aw shit."
 
He looked mortified.

"What's the matter?"
 
Aside from her salivating like Pavlov's dog, what else could possibly have gone wrong now, she wondered.

"I forgot you don't eat meat and this is full of the damn stuff."

"Spare me.
 
It's not a moral decision; it's a liver function decision.
 
I ate Bambi last week, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot."

"Now hand me a piece before I have to resort to violence."

Matt grinned and took great delight making a big deal of extracting a piece of pizza, collecting the stretchy strands of mozzarella cheese and twisting them into a tidy bundle.
 
He then placed the whole arrangement on a red-and-white checkered paper napkin - the kind that doesn't manage to keep the grease from the cheese off anything, but looks good.
 
It reminded her of Matt's mother: pretty, tastefully designed and packaged, but not much use for anything at all.

"How'd it go with Mother?"
 
She couldn't help stressing the r so it came out as a low growl, and was amused when Azriel's ears went back and his tail frizzed, as if he understood.

"I told her she's got to go back to Sydney."

Tamsen took another bite of the delicious pizza.
 
"You told her that before we went to Melbourne and she's still here."
 
She wiped some cheese fat from her chin with the inadequate red napkin.

"I am aware of that."
 
Matt took a huge bite of garlic bread, then howled with pain, his hand flying to his mouth.
 
"Aw, fuck.
 
Now I've bitten my tongue."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wind you up."

"For a change, this time it's not you." He chewed gingerly, his hand still hovering under his chin. "The woman
 
won't see I want to live my own life.
 
Thinks she can bowl over here and tell me what to do, and if that doesn't work, simply sit it out until I do what she wants me to do anyway."

"You're a lawyer.
 
You could always take out a non-molestation order."

"I wish."
 
He looked in real pain and Tamsen was sure it wasn't just his mouth.

Matt rearranged himself and the food on the bed, in the process being the recipient of a disgusted look from Azriel.

"Does he always behave like this?"

"Like what?"
 
Tamsen tucked into the garlic bread; no reason for her to have to suffer garlic breath all night.

"Like he owns the joint."

"He's a cat. They don't have owners, they have slaves."

"It's eerie.
 
It's as if he's looking out for you."

"He probably is.
 
I wouldn't leave him because we've got a special bond."

"I got that impression."

"You don't mind him sleeping here with us?"
 
Tamsen knew he did mind, but was hoping that under the circumstances he'd lie.

"Yes.
 
There's only one pussy I want to share my bed with."

Tamsen laughed.
 
"Well, looks like you're in for a treat, 'cos tonight you've got two."

"Oh, for fuck's sake."
 
Matt's howl of anguish from the bathroom woke Tamsen from a dreamless sleep.

"What's the matter?"
 
She stretched her legs and found Azriel perched between them.
 
Scratching him behind the ears, she met Matt's hostile gaze.
 

He was wearing nothing but a cobalt towel, the contrasting color setting off his black hair, damp and darker looking than usual.
 
A bolt of lust snaked through her and she ran her fingers over Azzie's cool, smooth ears, the sensation similar to running her fingers over the velvet tip of a penis though she wanted the real thing.

"There's cat litter all over the bathroom floor and I've just had a shower."

"Don't worry, it'll be clean."
 
It was neither here nor there, she thought - by the time she was finished with him this morning he was going to need another shower anyhow.

"How do you know that?"
 
Matt's face looked grim; he almost pouted.
 
She so wanted to taste his lips with hers.

"Trust me, you don't have to worry.
 
I'll clean it up."

"I do bloody worry - about everything. That's my problem."

"Come here."
 
She patted the bed beside her, and on impulse picked Azzie up and dropped him on the floor.
 
"I want to touch you."

Matt eyed her suspiciously.
 
"You mean, like sex?"

"No, you prat!
 
I mean like I stroke the cat!"
 
For an intelligent man he could be so stupid sometimes.

"But your best friend's dead."

"I'm well aware of that fact, Matthew."

"Well..." He looked perplexed, but made advances toward the bed, even if they were at a snail’s pace.

She said, "Someone's died, so I'm not supposed to get horny when a gorgeous man walks in the room half naked?"

"Something like that."

"Death always makes me horny."

"You are so weird."

"No, I'm not.
 
I bet most people are at it like knives after funerals."

"You think so?"
 

He had at least made it to the bed now and she could smell the fresh scent of soap on his skin. She asked curiously, "What do you think about after you've been to a funeral?"

"I haven't been to many." He eyed her with suspicion. "You're not a funeral groupie, are you?"

"No."
 
She ran her fingertips along the edge of the towel, just hooking her nails under the bound edge near his knee, making promises he knew she'd keep.
 
"But didn't you come away sort of energized, full of life in a way you didn't understand?
 
Somehow determined to change at least some area of your life, live in a better way - maybe be a bit more reckless?
 
Because you realized that at any moment it could all be snatched away from you?"

"Er, not really, not that I remember."
 
He watched her fingers toying with his towel.
 

She could see stirring under the toweling. "See, even talking about it's turning you on."

"I can assure you that talking about death is not turning me on.
 
The very alive feeling of your fingers on my inner thigh is doing it for me, though."

Tamsen ran her entire hand up under his towel, her efforts rewarded when she struck his solid shaft.
 
She brushed his towel aside in one swift movement and feasted her eyes on his nakedness.
 
Such a thrill, knowing she turned him on so much.
 
She wanted him, wanted him badly, and nothing would to stand in the way of her having him.

Licking her lips in anticipation, she lunged for that soft, sacred space between his legs.

Tonguing his sack, she felt him shiver in response.
 
She suckled one ball into her mouth and ran her fingernails up the underside of his dick, hearing him moan and feeling the balance of his body physically relax under her hands and mouth.

"Too good, Tams," he whispered.
 
Matt caressed the top of her head, stroking her hair, the way she'd stroked Azriel.
 
She'd purr too if she didn't have a mouth full of his balls.

Matt leaned back against the crumpled bedding, as she continued her suckling. "Aw fuck!"
 

His surprised scream brought Tamsen to a sudden halt; he was lucky she didn't clamp down with her teeth and do permanent damage. At the same time a yowl came from Azriel and a black streak of fur shot toward the bathroom.

"Fucking animal." Matt was furious. "It was lying nearly under me on purpose, I'm sure of it.
 
Do you know how disconcerting it is to lie on something furry?"

Tamsen couldn't help laughing.
 

That seemed to incense him more. "I'm serious.
 
The frigging cat hates me."

"Don't be silly. He does not."

"I am not being silly."
 
Rage began to cloud his eyes.
 
"I'm sick of the time we have together being interrupted by..."

"By what, Matt?"
 
Tamsen's anger rose to meet his, pent-up frustration and hurt welling to the surface.

He scowled, his beautiful lips set in a harsh line. "Don't push me, Tamsen.
 
I might say something I'll live to regret and I don't want to do that."

Fury spilled from her gut. "What, something like if we'd stopped the last time the phone rang and I'd talked to Gina she might not have hung herself?
 
Something like that, Matt?"

"Stop it, Tamsen!"

"Why?"
 
No chance of her holding back the torrent now - the dam had burst. "The truth hurt, does it, Matthew?"

She could see the veins bulging up his arms as he gripped the duvet, the tightness in his jaw as he ground his teeth together.
 
She wanted to rip at his skin, tear at his throat with her nails and see his skin ripped and bleeding the way Gina's had been when she clawed at the rope in her death throes.

She spat, "You may as well have tied the rope and kicked the chair out from underneath her."

"Tamsen, that's enough!"

"You're just so fucking composed, aren't you?"
 
She moved her face to within inches of his, close enough to see the perspiration forming on his top lip.
 
"Mommy's got you so well trained you aren't even in touch with what you're feeling.
 
How long did it take, Matt, to squash those horrible feelings, bury them and pretend they didn't exist?"

His eyes started to bulge as he continued to fight with himself.
 
Tamsen wanted him to fight with her; she wanted to hurt him as much as she hurt - as much as Gina must have been hurting when they both ignored her.

"Don't bring my mother into this."
 
He could barely sputter the words out.

"Why, Matt?
 
She's so firmly ensconced in your life I'm surprised you didn't invite her in here this morning to watch."

"That's enough.
 
I don't have to listen to this crap.
 
I'm out of here."

She laughed, an almost hysterical laugh.
 
She could feel her control slipping away. "Don't even think about walking away from me, Matt."

He looked at her then - not really at her, more through her.
 
"If I stay in this room one minute longer, woman, you are going to get hurt - " he stood up and made a movement toward his walk-in-wardrobe " - and you've been hurt enough."