Catch (14 page)

After climbing out of the tub he vigorously toweled himself dry.
 
He was tempted to dress, pop in the bedroom and peck her on the cheek just to show her she couldn't push him around.
 
But on reflection he decided that would be idiotic, especially with the case of lover's balls he was developing.
 
Jesus, she could be utterly infuriating.

He had no idea whatsoever how to handle her.
 
All his usual tricks were just that -, tricks. Idiot, schoolboy, macho crap.
 
He was seriously winging it with this woman and that was unsettling.

Right, he thought, time to take some positive action and get this little dance with yonder devil-woman underway.
 
Pulling himself up to his full five foot ten and one-quarter inch, he set out for the bedroom.
 
She was right about the tiles, he thought - a serious case of burn would be the result if you shagged on this floor and it wouldn't be due to the under-floor heating.

Her trail was easy enough to follow: a towel lay half out of the second doorway on his left.
 
It amused him, reminded him of Hansel and Gretel.
 
What did that make him - Hansel or the male version of a wicked witch?
 
He chortled at his own insane thoughts.
 
He certainly felt wicked anyway.

She lay on her bed, a vision in a ginger silk negligee, shoestring straps draped in an alluring manner off her shoulders.
 
The room made him think of a gypsy caravan - beautiful and colorful textured fabrics adorned the walls, gathering in a rainbow of color on a circle of silver above the central ceiling light.
 
He felt as if he'd been transported to another time and place. It was surreal, but so totally Tamsen it took his breath away.

"This is gorgeous.
 
I've never seen anything like it."
 
He threw himself on the bed next to her.
 

The room even smelt exotic - or was that her?
 
He wasn't sure anymore. He felt as if he'd just walked into the set of some Arabian Nights movie, only this was real - she was real. "You are truly amazing. You know that?"

"So you keep telling me."
 
She smiled; it was dazzling.
 
The light from the candles she'd placed around the room danced in her eyes.
 

He was in serious trouble, he could feel it.
 
A connection was being forged between the two of them he didn't understand.
 
He kept trying to remind himself he was just here for a good time, but it felt as if more was happening.
 
He couldn't describe how he was feeling.

Confused.
 
Yes.

Attracted.
 
Absolutely.

Connected.
 
A definite possibility.

Horny.
 
An absolute certainty.

The combination had him feeling all the more like a fumbling teenager.
 

He licked her on the shoulder, nibbling at the shoestring strap of her negligee. "Sexy lady," he growled.
 
She was lightly oiled and smelled musky. "When did you put that oil on? You smell gorgeous."

"In the dark in the bathroom."

"Aha, so that's what you were doing.
 
Prepping."

She giggled.
 
"If that's what you want to call it."

"I do."
 
He was touched she'd gone to so much trouble for him.

"So -" he ran a finger lazily up and down her front, stopping to circle her rapidly hardening nipple " - do you go to this much trouble for all the boys?" He flicked his fingernail over the nub and she shuddered in response. "Or am I getting special treatment?"

"You're getting special treatment.
 
There's not many who make it into my sacred space."

"Sacred space, hmm?"
 
He was rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger now, watching her breathing quicken and enjoying the power he was exerting over her stunning body.
 
"Not many get to worship at the temple of Tamsen?"

"No." Her voice quivered. "Count yourself very lucky."

"Oh, babe, I do.
 
You have no idea how much."

With that he released her nipple, slid his hand down to the dip in her belly and found her mouth with his.

Tamsen lay snuggled against Matt's chest. His breathing was regular and she was comforted by the scent of a man between her sheets.
 
It had been a terribly long time since anyone had stayed with her.
 
She lifted her head, looked at the clock and realized the birds had woken her.
 

"Matt, it's ten past five.
 
You'd better wake up."

"Hmm?"
 
He wriggled, drew her closer to him and attempted to haul the sheets up over them again.

She pulled away, shaking his arm gently.
 
"Matt, you need to wake up - it's morning."

He opened one sleep-laden eye and looked at her.
 
"What you saying, gorgeous?"

"We fell asleep.
 
It's ten past five.
 
You should probably shower - you'll need to get home and head for work."

"What?"
 
He looked at the clock, comprehension registering on his features.
 
"Aw, shit." He sat bolt upright.
 
"I knew you'd be trouble.
 
What did you do, put a spell on me or something?"

Oh, how she wished.
 
"No.
 
You slept like a baby – well, we both did."
 
She pushed him playfully down on the bed, "No damage done, though.
 
You've still got time to get home and ready for work and no one will ever be the wiser."

He flipped her back up on top of him; his hard cock pressing against her stomach. "We could always have a quick refresher course before I go."
 

She couldn't believe how much he turned her on; she could feel herself getting wet again. "Hm, sounds like a great idea."
 

He grabbed her hair, pulling her down to him so he could plant a kiss on her willing lips.
 
God, she liked it rough - it was such a turn on. Then he hesitated.

"What's the matter?" Tamsen asked.
 
He seemed to be losing interest and she hadn't a clue why.

"My bloody mother's in town."

"So?"
 
She was confused.

"She arrived last night with some idiotic notion of getting me back with my ex-fiancée."

"Well, she hasn't got a hope, has she?" Tamsen kissed him passionately and he responded, fully aroused again.

"No - " he tried to talk around her insistent kisses " - you don't understand."

"I do." She continued the kissing barrage. "You can't come and fuck me tonight, you're seeing your mother, so you’d better give me a good one now before you go."

He struggled vainly under her.
 
"Tamsen."
 
His tone was stern and he sounded troubled.
 

She stopped being obstructive, a pending sense of doom filling her heart.
 

"It's not that, babe."
 

He really was disturbed.
 
She felt sorry for him.

"What is it? You can tell me."

"Mother's parked in my spare room at the moment.
 
She'll know I haven't been home."

"You're a big boy - you can stay out all night if you want too."
 
She kissed him playfully on the nose.
 
"And besides, wasn't I worth getting into trouble for?"

He smiled. "Oh, hell, yes."

"Well, then, stop your whining, give me the shagging I deserve for keeping you out all night, rush back home and tell Mother a huge pack of lies and all will be well."

"You're evil."

"I know.
 
Now shut up and get to work."

He grinned.
 
"But what'll I tell Mother?"

She gave him a wicked grin. "You'll think of something.
 
You're a lawyer."

Tamsen sprawled across her bed, wrapped in a sheet, feeling deliciously used and abused.
 
She'd just seen Matt out the front door; he'd refused all offers of a shower, citing in his defense that her bathroom was too much of a risk.
 
The chances of him spending any more time around her naked and ever getting home for a change of clothes were apparently two inconsistent concepts.
 

She'd pouted, but he was probably right.
 
If he'd showered she'd have joined him and they'd have had another marathon session.
 
So he'd left - probably smelling like he'd spent the night shagging.

Tamsen
wondered how the scene would play out when he got home.
 
By all accounts his mother was a battle-ax.
 
Poor Matt, he was in for a hell of a time.
 
Part of her felt guilty, the other part was too busy drifting off into post-coital bliss.
 
She didn't have to be up for at least another hour.
 

Life, she decided, was definitely looking up.

Matt couldn't believe he was sneaking into his own home.
 
With any luck his mother would be asleep and he'd be able to fudge the time he got in.
 
Why he thought there might be a chance he could manage that now when he'd failed miserably as a sixteen-year-old he couldn't fathom.

So far, so good.
 
If
he could make it to the bedroom, without bumping into her he was sweet.

Safe inside his bedroom, he could feel his heart beating rapidly. He leaned up against his closed door and stifled the overwhelming desire to giggle hysterically.
 
He'd pulled it off.
 
All he had to do was make the bed look slept in and get himself in the shower and then even he would almost believe he'd been here all night.
 

He threw the pillows around on his bed, feeling ridiculous.
 
How the hell had he managed to get to this stage in his life and still be trying to pull the wool over his mother's eyes?
 
Maybe because it was easier than fronting with the truth.

The evening he'd just had with Tamsen was one of the best he'd had in a very long time.
 
She was great.
 
They'd laughed, enjoyed each other's company, had plenty to talk about - and then there was the sex.
 
Lord, the sex.

Showered, he climbed back into corporate battledress, checking his watch and debating whether or not he had time for breakfast.
 
A quick coffee would have to suffice.

Matt realized he was happy and content - he'd forgotten what that felt like.
 
It was amazing what good company, good food and great sex could do for a man's outlook on life.
 
He really was a simple man with simple needs.
 

He cast a backward glance at his "slept in" bed.
 
Best leave it as it was, as much as that grated; he might as well make the charade convincing.

He'd half drunk his coffee and was just looking for a pad and pen to leave a note for his mother when she walked into the kitchen.

"And what time did you get in?"

"Good morning to you too, Mother. Lemon looks really great on you.
 
Is the robe new?"
 
He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead.

Marguerite’s petite, delicate frame sheathed an iron will.
 
Many were fooled by her fragility; Matt was not.
 
He knew the warrior woman within.

He asked, "Would you like a cup of coffee?
 
The jug's just boiled."

"You know I don't drink that instant muck, Matthew."

"Well, there're beans or grounds in the pantry, and you shouldn't have any trouble with the machine - you did buy it."

She looked hurt.
 
He still hated it when she played the I'm-a-victim card with him; she was not and had clearly never been a victim in her life.
 
"Aren't you going to have breakfast with me?
 
I travel all the way from Sydney and my only child can't even find the time to sit down and have a decent discussion with me."

He sighed, looking at his watch. If he didn't get away soon he was going to get stuck in rush-hour traffic and he detested that.
 
"Mother, I've got to get to work.
 
I promise, I'll be home about six tonight and I'll take you out for dinner.
 
We'll catch up then.
 
How does that sound?"

She brightened.
 
"That sounds fine, Matthew.
 
I'll keep myself busy until you get home.
 
It's pretty clear I haven't been uppermost in your mind since I arrived."

"I've got to go." He hugged her awkwardly.
 
"I'll see you at six."

She called after him.
 
"What shall I wear, Matthew?"

"Whatever you're comfortable with, Mother."
 
He'd work out where to go for dinner based on what she chose; it was easier that way.
 
"Casual" was a concept his mother neither acknowledged nor chose to understand.

Tamsen's foot tickled. She was vaguely aware of a raspy feeling, followed by sudden and intense pain.

"Ow, Azriel.
 
Stop it, you beast."
 
The cat was licking and chewing her foot, a sure sign she'd slept in past the little horror's breakfast time.
 
"No need to worry about an alarm clock when you're around, is there, boy?"
 

He padded up the bed and started rubbing himself insistently against her hand.
 
If she didn't get up he'd move to her face and start chewing her chin.
 
It was an amusing ritual she'd grown used to, but she didn't particularly want to get out of bed this morning.
 
Far too many shenanigans during the night, she suspected.