Finding Thyme

by TJ Hamilton

  “Cheeky.” He continues undressing and turns down the bedsheets.

  His arousal over my lack of underwear is obvious when his erect rod springs out of his pants as he slides them down his legs. I grin in triumph. Okay, so we haven’t quite moved on from the amazing sex part of our relationship yet.

  I point to the bed. “Lie down. I can’t have that going to waste.”

  Tench smirks back. “Yes ma’am.”

  He slides onto the bed, his long, hard member swinging about as he positions himself. This is the Tench that sparks the sexual excitement in me. This Tench gets me back to a place where we used to be.

  I stalk onto the bed towards him and slide up between his legs. I run my tongue along his inner thigh and suck gently on each of his plump balls. They’re soft and fill my mouth. He groans hard into the air. I look up at his face and see he’s overcome with pleasure. I’m pleased I can bring him to this kind of reaction without doing much at all. I lick around the base of his length and slide my lips up his erection. He groans again. I roll my tongue around his bulging knob and plunge his entire length all the way to the back of my mouth. Loosening my throat, I allow him to slide further, deep into my throat.

  “Oh god, Miranda. You have no idea what you fucking do to me. It scares me how much …”

  “Shhhh,” I hiss back.

  With his length still held in my mouth, I swing myself around and straddle him backwards across his chest. I don’t want to hear anything he has to say so I push myself down onto his face and let him put his mouth to better use. He instantly obliges and makes quick work of lapping up every fold around my opening. I pause my actions for a brief moment when he hits the right spot at the tip of my clitoris. He sucks on it until it’s plump. He pulls it back in his mouth and when it’s stretched he snaps it back, free from his mouth’s vice. I jolt and hold my breath from the spectacular sensation before I force Tench’s length back into my mouth again.

  This continues for what feels like hours. Muffled moans escape me every time he reaches the spot where I feel like I’m about to explode, both of us pausing momentarily when we’re consumed by the other’s assault on our pleasure regions. Eventually it’s me who cracks. I swing myself back around to Tench’s glossy face. I smirk and kiss his soaked lips.

  “I want you inside me so badly,” I whisper.

  “It’s as if you read my mind.” He grins.

  I straddle him and our bodies meet each other with ease. He dives deep inside me and I grip onto his bulging chest and involuntarily throw my head backwards in utter bliss as I ride him. Tench’s strong, powerful hands grip harshly around my waist, and he guides me backwards and forwards in the same motion as him.

  I’ve completely forgotten where we are until the plane hits a pocket of air and dips, causing us both to raise off the bed and thump back down onto the mattress. His length rams into me hard, and it tips me over the edge. I wail as the feeling takes over every inch of me and we both thrash about as ecstasy engulfs us. The plane jerks again and we slam into each other again, and then again. I reach my climax with repetitive force as the plane hits turbulence. Tench lets out a prolonged moan and he pushes himself up into me harshly until his spasms inside me subside. Once we’ve stopped, he reaches up and grips around my neck, pulling me into an emotionally-charged kiss. A tear escapes from the corner of my eye. I wish I didn’t feel this way about Tench when I hate him so much. I’ve never felt more like a whore than I do right now. I breathe harshly and avoid the rising sadness from seeping out further. I open my eyes slowly and find Tench’s coffee-coloured gaze fixed upon me. Our kisses become slow, soft pecks.

  “I am so in love with you, Miranda Davis,” he confesses.

  I drop my head into the pillow beside him and embrace him as hard as I can so that I don’t burst into tears. I hate being called that name. He wraps his arms tight around my body and I just allow myself to be swept into this moment of love with Tench. There’s very little of the old me left.

  I feel Tench eventually slide out from under me. I promptly fall back asleep, exhausted after the roller-coaster of emotions that I just rode in my wild romp with him. I don’t want to think about this anymore. I just want to be in total darkness … for now.

  I feel a hand rest gently across my naked back. I’m ripped from the darkness of sleep and roll over to find a shy Asian woman in a smart dark suit looking down at the ground. The woman has the skin of a porcelain doll and her eyes are harsh and narrow, and arrow down towards her perfect button nose. Her shiny raven bob slopes down angularly to frame her face.

  “My sincerest apologies in waking you, Miss Miranda.” She bows her head. “You have landed in Beijing and Mr Tench would like you to join him for breakfast in the dining room.” Her eyes do not lift from the ground as she softly speaks.

  The room is darkened with the slightest bit of light seeping through the bottom of the drawn shutters. I rub my eyes with the back of my hand. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

  She half curtseys. “I’m Mei-Mei, miss. I’ll be accompanying you for the remainder of the flight up to Pulkovo Airport in St Petersburg.”

  Her politeness is excruciating at this time of the morning. “What time is it?” I question.

  “It’s six forty am, miss.” She still doesn’t look me in the eye.

  “You don’t have to be so formal with me, Mei-Mei. You can relax a little.”

  “Of course, miss.” She dips her head once again and leaves the suite without raising her lids to my eye level.

  I frown and wonder why we have another stewardess on board. Still, I am more than pleased that Mei-Mei came and woke me rather than that Claire. I quickly jump into the shower and freshen up for breakfast.

  As I leave the shower, I hear the engines surge a little louder. Two light taps discreetly knock against the door.

  “Miss Miranda, the captain would prefer you to be in the dining room to achieve the correct weight balance for takeoff,” I hear Mei-Mei on the other side.

  “Coming,” I call out in reply.

  I grab one of Tench’s signature Yves Saint Laurent white fluffy bathrobes hanging in the bathroom and throw it around me, then make my way out of the bedroom and into the dining room. Mei-Mei, walking in front of me, continues past the dining room towards the cockpit. Tench looks up from his newspaper and beams a wide smile as soon as I enter the room.

  “Here’s my girl.” He throws the paper down in front of him and stands to welcome me with a loving embrace.

  “Who’s the new girl?” I ask. “Where’s Claire?”

  “I couldn’t have you committing murder on my plane, so I called for Mei-Mei to join us instead.” Tench sits back down and buckles the belt across his lap. “Mei-Mei is good. She’s worked with me before when I’ve done business in Asia. She’s extremely efficient … and more importantly, she can be trusted.” He winks before he opens the paper out in front of his face.

  “What about Claire?” I can’t help but smile.

  “She’ll make her way back home to Sydney within a few hours.” He flaps down the edge of the paper to wink at me.

  I bite into a piece of toast as I feel the plane shoot down the runway for the second time in as little as twelve hours. I look out the small oval window to the side and watch the ground rush by as we lift into the air. My satisfaction over Tench’s willingness to please me is borderline addictive. Is it really this easy, or am I being fooled, too?

  “Anything interesting happening in the news?” I try and sound like I care.

  “Nothing, unless you think our relationship is news? Everyone in Sydney seems to be weighing in on whether we’re back together or not, by the looks of pages six and seven.”

  He turns the paper around to show me pictures of my Mercedes pulling into the mansion’s driveway and three other blurred shots of us in each other’s arms. Really? That’s page six news? Great, so not only do I have Tench’s guys to worry about following me around town, now I’ve got the media wanting a story t
o grab, too.

  You can do this, girl. This is why you’re here. Russia may just be the perfect escape to gather as much intelligence as I can without the added distraction of Sydney’s obsession with headlining Joe Tench.

  After breakfast, I dress into tight black leather pants and pull on my Ralph Lauren handmade leather riding boots that are my winter pride and joy. I pair the ensemble with a sheer white blouse.

  Tench comes into the suite carrying a large white gift box wrapped with a big red bow. Instantly, a vision of the red sash around my neck sends a sudden spike in my temperature. Tench frowns and looks down at the box.

  “You can’t go to Russia and not have these.” He holds the box out for me.

  I take it and stare down at the wrapping. It is the same silk sash that he used on me. What a sadistic prick. There’s never just a simple gift with Tench. It always has to be loaded with questionable undertones.

  I pull at the bow and the silk falls away from the box. I pick up the sash and hand it to him.

  “Better save this for later.” I shove it into his chest and wink.

  He looks down at it and his eyes slowly lift to mine. His face remains cold, unresponsive to my suggestion. I can’t read him. I lift the top of the box and smooth back the matching red tissue paper inside to find soft fluffy fur. Smiling, I gather the Russian Cossack hat in my hands and hold it up.

  “It’s the finest Russian shadow fox fur,” Tench says with pride.

  The fur is the most beautiful white with tones of silver rimming around the centre. I’m not usually into real furs, but the luxurious feel of this is hard to ignore. I’m glad it’s fox. If it were a feline species I’d definitely be having a hard time right now. With that thought, I rub my face against it and think about how much I miss my Flossy cat. Before I cry, I pull it over my head and look back down at the remainder of the fur in the box. Tench pulls out the matching coat and the length of it falls all the way to the ground.

  “Wow. That is some coat.” I run my fingers through the soft, grey fur. “You know, I don’t really do fur.” I look up at Tench and try my best not to sound unappreciative.

  “It’s Russia. Everyone does fur.” He holds out the coat for me to put on.

  The moment it wraps around my body, my core temperature rises. It does feel good. I wrap my arms around myself and run my fingers through the fur. I grin at the sensation of it against my palms.

  “Thank you. I love it.” I lean into Tench and kiss his soft lips.

  “I like it on you. You could easily pass for a Russian, with your beauty.” He smiles genuinely.

  I take the coat off and lay it across the bed, ready for our arrival into Russia.

  Tench and I both make our way into the main cabin area to find the unusual sight of Toni sleeping soundly in the reclined chair. His massive chest rises and falls with each enormous breath he takes. For once, he looks vulnerable, innocent even.

  Tench looks back at me and lifts his finger to his lips. I can’t help but feel warmed by the genuine care that Tench has for his protector. He holds my hand delicately and leads me over to the long couch again. He reaches for one of the books sitting on a shelf above the couch and hands it to me.

  Great Expectations. I smile. Inside I feel torn with happiness that Tench remembered how much I love this book and saddened by the thought that the man I truly loved wouldn’t have known this about me. Or if he did, I never got to experience a special moment like this with him before he died. I sit next to Tench and flick the book open to chapter twenty-nine, where Pip sees Estella for the first time when they’re adults. It’s my favourite part in the book and I quickly immerse myself into my favourite story. I’m left undisturbed for the remainder of the flight, until Mei-Mei quietly informs us that we have begun our descent into St Petersburg and would I like my coat and hat for alighting the plane.

  “Yes, that would be good thanks, Mei-Mei. I can get them though. I’d like to go to the bathroom before we land.” I smile and make my way towards the bedroom’s en suite at the rear of the plane. I hear Toni wake with a mighty roar and stretch out as I move down the corridor. When I come out of the toilet, Mei-Mei is standing beside the bed, holding up the coat for me.

  She looks over her shoulder before dipping her head towards me, as if she wants to tell me something quietly. “I have put a note in the left pocket, Agent Thyme. It is the location where we must meet tomorrow. Don’t worry, Agent Donohue will be there too,” she says in her usual soft voice.

  Her words stun me in my spot. I stare her dead in the eye without speaking a word. Did I just hear what I think I heard?

  “Thank you,” is the only response I have before leaving the room to head back to the main cabin for landing.

  TEN

  The plane softly lands and the jet engines wind down. The moment the cabin door is opened a whiff of the sub-zero temperatures outside bites at my cheeks. I pull my hat over my head and raise the fluffy collar of the coat around my neck, then follow Tench down the air-stairs onto the tarmac.

  “Thanks for looking after us at the last minute, Mei-Mei,” Tench says as he passes her at the base of the stairs.

  She dips her head in respect. “The pleasure is all mine, Mr Tench.” Her sharp almond eyes flick to me. “It was nice to meet you, Miss Miranda.”

  I try to stare into her eyes, hoping to see something. A whisper of a smile escapes her.

  I return a smile. “Thank you, Mei-Mei.” Really, thank you.

  Toni leads us all to a black Mercedes Vito van with heavily darkened windows. Tench motions for me to get into the back, and Toni gets into the front passenger seat in front of me.

  “Filipp.” Tench grips onto the driver’s shoulders jovially before he fires off fluent Russian.

  The conversation in Russian continues and I feel like I’m out of my depth all of a sudden. Filipp Pavlenko is better looking in person than in the agency’s photographs of him. Boy, have I hit the ground running with the agency’s top persons of interest.

  Driving on the right side of the road always throws me off so I watch out the window as we drive away from the tarmac. The airport looks like any other airport in the world until we get to a heavily guarded gate, swarming with men carrying automatic assault rifles. The car slows and Filipp rolls down his window. Toni passes him our passports and Filipp hands them over to a man wearing a military Ushanka hat with the flaps down, covering his ears from the cold night’s air. Another barrage of Russian is spoken between them before Filipp hands over a roll of cash. A torch is shone towards me and Tench in the back of the van. The man in the fluffy Ushanka speaks to us in Russian and Tench responds with a chuckle and nods before saying, “Spaseeba.”

  Sliding the bundle of cash inside his jacket, the guard nods to Filipp and hands back the passports. We roll through the checkpoint and continue on towards the city of St Petersburg. The country has only just begun its steadied descent into winter, but the temperature is already almost unbearable. The edge of the road is covered in a white layer of snow. I’d hate to experience the middle of winter here if this is just the beginning. Billboards line the road and flash by the car window. The harsh characters of the Russian language advertise various products.

  It’s dark out, so I can’t quite make out the landscape of the country. The first thing I do notice is the lit-up compound of a Russian Orthodox church. The distinctive shape of the bulging round rooftop makes me smile to myself. The bright colours of the church are so magical. It’s my first Russian church sighting, and now I know I’m in Russia.

  Tench blasts out some Russian to Filipp and soon after the radio comes to life with a broadcast of Beethoven. His “Moonlight Sonata” trills its perfect key as the car follows the straightest road that I’ve ever come across in any major city. My mind wanders back to the moment I walked into Tench’s mansion on a booking for the first time, and this song was playing. Never did I imagine ending up in this city, in this moment, hearing the song once again with Tench but under en
tirely different circumstances. The van finally veers left and I set my sights on the heavily lit-up structure of the Moscow Triumphal Gate. The huge faded green monumental columns stretch up tall. Statuesque guards watch over the city below like dictating leaders. The entire architectural formation of the gates screams of the city’s communist heritage.

  As we continue along the road, the buildings begin to close in until they eventually line the street in continuous endless grand sandstone terraces. We pull up at the lights of the Nevsky Prospect intersection. The power lines above us weave from building to building, encasing us in an intricate web from above. The sidewalks are filled with Russians caught in the jeans with sneakers tragedy of east European fashion.

  We soon turn off Nevsky Prospect into an unassuming side street. Filipp pulls the car into a bricked car park at the front of a hotel that looks more like it belongs on the Upper East Side of New York City than it does in the middle of Russia. Flags from around the world gently swing in the breeze on either side of the long green awning made of iron with glass palings, directing us to the entrance of the hotel. Australia’s flag sits proudly on the end next to Switzerland, and makes me miss home for a moment. They’re a strange set of flags. Australia is next to Switzerland, Germany and France. On the other side of the awning hang the flags of Turkey, the United Kingdom and the United States of America, and in the centre of the arching awning, there hangs a crest of red and green. As blown away as I am by the beauty of the entrance, I remain my reserved self.

  Just as if Tench has read my mind, he turns to say, “The flags out the front represent the countries of the most distinguished guests staying at the hotel.”

  I smile. “Let me guess … Australia is for us?”

  Tench winks. The old arrogant Tench is well and truly back. He wasn’t like this when he wanted to win me over. Or maybe I took little notice of it before?

  The three busboys in matching black and gold-trimmed suits tend to our bags as I take Tench’s outstretched hand and follow him into the lobby of the Belmond Grand Hotel.