by Mel Teshco
He glanced at the swing doors, behind which a public phone waited just a few metres away. He really didn’t need his mobile, but the idea of jamming endless coins into the phone’s slot while he tried to explain to the restaurant manager that he’d zoned out for a while, or worse, hallucinated, suddenly held no appeal. Besides, he’d always been selfish with the business side of things, to the point it ruled his life. This once he’d be selfish on the personal front.
His heart squeezed in his chest as something too close to excitement filled his veins. ‘You want to try again to see if it was a one-off?’ he asked huskily, going for humour but failing miserably, with certain parts of his body already cranking up a gear.
She licked her lips, her eyes shining when she said softly, ‘I do.’
He restrained an urge to take her there and then; not with ‘paying’ customers in the dining room. Besides, he’d missed wining and dining her the first time around, he wouldn’t skimp on it the next time.
He cleared his throat. ‘Then I’ll be right back.’
Chapter Three
Jessie didn’t even glance Tatts’ way when he strode past the bar before taking the creaky hotel stairs two at a time and shoving open the door to his room.
It took him only minutes to make use of the community shower, get dressed, and then throw his possessions into his overnight bag. Taking out the roses from their temporary vase, he slung his bag over his shoulder before collecting the rest of his purchases from the day before, chocolates, condoms, champagne and fruit.
He’d had every intention to romance Tara a little, but now … now he wanted to do that and so much more.
He headed to the bedroom door with laden arms, somehow managing to toss the door key onto the unmade bed, which was the only thing left for Tatts to find besides some gutted candle stubs.
Downstairs, he nodded to the barman. ‘Thanks for the hospitality.’
One of the older men at the bar guffawed at his sarcastic wit, but Jessie didn’t wait around for Tatts reply. He had more important things on his mind.
Hefting his bag into the back of the Hummer and placing the flowers and champagne on the passenger seat, he climbed into the driver’s seat and fired the engine.
Tatts had moved to stand in the hotel’s doorway and Jess gave him a mock salute before he reversed out of the car park. Gunning the engine he roared across the road, parking his Hummer beside the flower-power Kombi in front of the restaurant.
The hippies were just finishing their late breakfast when he strode inside with the champagne and slightly wilted bunch of roses in hand. As the couple left, the long-haired, goateed man remarked, ‘Nice flowers, dude.’
Jessie managed a tight-lipped smile, in no mood to make conversation with the freeloaders who’d taken advantage of Tara’s good nature and generosity.
Tara looked up shyly as he approached, accepting the roses with every appearance of naïve pleasure. ‘Thank you.’
He shrugged, feeling almost awkward. ‘I bought them for you last night but we were a little, ah, preoccupied.’ At her giggle, he grinned, instantly at ease. ‘I haven’t had the chance to romance you.’
‘Oh?’ she said breathlessly.
His grin stretched wider still. ‘Why don’t you change into something more comfortable?’
Her eyes went wide. ‘But if I get some more customers for lunch—’
‘I’ll look after them.’ Her brow furrowed and he added, ‘I’ve had experience at this sort of thing, trust me.’
She nodded, and then glanced ruefully at her empty restaurant. ‘Give me twenty minutes.’
He tugged her in for a brief, hard kiss that reminded him all too quickly of her feminine curves and softness, her sweet lavender scent. Pulling back, he murmured, ‘I’ll be waiting.’
Her face flushed and her eyes shining, she twisted from him and all but ran out the back and upstairs to the living quarters he’d yet to see. His face ached with the grin stretching his lips as he began the quick prep for their champagne brunch.
He was just lighting the candles on the table when he heard the clack of her heels coming down the stairwell.
When she walked from the kitchen and into the dining room, he looked up with a smile. His smile wavered and his gut clenched. Her honey-blonde hair was loose, cascading past her bare shoulders and the heart-shaped bodice of her clinging, pale amber-coloured dress that fell almost to the floor.
‘Hi,’ she said, her voice self-conscious even though she looked too damn hot and sexy for his peace of mind.
Forcing his legs into action, he strode forward to meet her, taking her hand and leading her back to the table she’d probably waited at more times than she’d want to count. He pulled a chair out for her and murmured, ‘You look sensational.’
She pressed pink-tipped fingers to her mouth, suppressing a smile. ‘Thank you.’
How had he ever thought her brazen? Then again, she’d shown that side of herself plus more, an enigma of varying shyness and passion that intrigued the hell out of him.
The next hour sped right by, their conversation flowing as effortlessly as the champagne they whittled down, along with the beef skewers, eggs Benedict and pancakes with strawberries and cream.
She lifted her flute into the air, as though announcing a toast. ‘I’m so glad we met, you’ve helped me forget my problems, even just for a little while.’
Questions filled his mind, but at her closed expression he didn’t voice them. He knew all too well the value of privacy. Instead he clinked her glass against his and tossed back the fizzy liquid before pouring the last of the champagne.
Her eyes shone, though he wasn’t quite sure if it was from happiness, alcohol or the passion simmering between them. Perhaps a combination.
‘I never thought I’d say this,’ she continued, ‘but I’m glad no customers showed today for an early lunch.’
He glanced outside. There were another two cars parked at the hotel, but otherwise the town was almost desolate. ‘Is it always this quiet?’
She took another sip of her drink, her hand trembling a little. She sighed. ‘Before the drought hit, my mother and I had six waitstaff and two chefs.’
Her mother was in business with her?
‘But now, any spare money left in a farmer’s pocket goes into drowning their sorrows across the road.’ She shrugged. ‘And tourists are few and far between out this way.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He reached forwards, clasping her free hand with his. ‘You’re an amazing woman and a talented cook. You could have a brilliant career in the city—’
She shook her head, face blanching. ‘No I … I can’t go to the city.’
He ignored the sinking feeling deep in his gut. Did her failing business really mean that much to her?
‘Tara’s right. She’s not going anywhere.’
Jessie started at the interruption of Tatts voice. He frowned. The barman was a snake. He hadn’t even heard the bell jangle on the door. He turned, taking in the hard-eyed man who apparently didn’t know how to please a woman in bed.
Tara’s hand fisted beneath Jessie’s grasp, and he noted how her soft glow vanished as she asked the other man, ‘Harrison, what are you doing here?’
The barman’s stare hardened further as he appraised her. ‘Making sure you’re not doing anything stupid.’
She stood, her fingers gripping Jessie’s like she’d never let him go. Her chin kicked up as she faced the other man. ‘What? Like being with you?’
Jessie pushed to his feet, his chair scraping back. He used his thumb pad to trace small, circular motions across her tight hand, he spoke to Harrison with quiet authority, ‘I think it’s time you left.’
Harrison’s flinty stare stayed on Tara. ‘This isn’t over, we’re not over.’
She shook her head. ‘See, that’s where you’re wrong. We were over a long time ago.’
Harrison’s eyes blazed. ‘You know that’s not true.’
‘It is true.’
Silence met her statement. Then he said softly, menacingly, ‘You’ll regret that decision.’ He turned and thrust the door open, the bell clanging loudly in his wake.
Tara closed her eyes on a shuddery sigh. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Jessie stepped around the table and drew her close. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for.’ He should have asked her about Harrison from the moment the barman had warned him off. Instead he’d been too wrapped up in his own selfish needs.
She leaned into him, her cheek resting on his chest, as though drawing warmth and strength from him. He breathed in her sweet, lightly flowered scent, aware just how much he wanted her, even then.
He cleared his throat, fighting for normalcy. ‘Well, now our appetite is ruined, I guess we should clean up this mess.’
She put a hand on his arm and looked up, her eyes warm. ‘Let’s forget about that right now.’ Freeing her other hand from his, she brushed the back of her fingers along his jaw. And with a smile, she stepped past him and towards the door, flicking the sign over so that it read ‘closed’ to potential customers. She pushed the lock into place and closed the shutters before swinging to face him. ‘The dishes can wait.’
She sauntered back towards him, unzipping her dress. And as it fell to her heeled feet, Jessie caught his breath. A dark, coffee-coloured bra and matching, lacy thong showed off her sexy curves to perfection. Stepping out of the dress piled at her feet, she breathed, ‘I can’t.’
His mouth dried. She was exquisite. He moved towards her and took her in his arms. Their mouths fused, her lips silken soft and his hard and unyielding. He walked her backwards, out of the restaurant and into the backroom that was her kitchen.
When he stilled near the stairs, she unbuttoned his shirt, then pushed it over his shoulders. She kissed his bared chest, working her way down to his belly with moist lips and tongue, before her nimble fingers unbuckled his belt and pulled it free. She tugged down his pants and boxer-briefs, looking up with a wanton smile as she clasped the thickening stem of his cock.
His breath hissed and he felt suddenly lightheaded, as though all his blood had rushed south. Then she wrapped her lips around his cock and pulled in his length.
He closed his eyes with a groan. ‘Oh, fuck.’
Her mouth was satin-warmth, sucking him in and then releasing, increasing pressure and speed. Relentless. Little. Minx.
He curled his fingers into her hair, enjoying the moment for a long as humanly possible before he uttered hoarsely, ‘Stop.’
When she did as he asked, he ignored the aching part of his anatomy and held out his hands. She clutched them and he pulled her upright. She licked her lips, and he bent and kissed her again, hard and unapologetic as he unsnapped her bra and tossed it aside. She pulled back, breath erratic and eyes glowing as she drew down her panties and stepped out of them.
Damn, she was hot. And passionate. And gorgeous …
He caught her to him on a groan and turned her around, her spine aligned to his front. He gripped her waist and she bent so that her hands were braced on the steps and her beautiful arse was in the air.
The sight had him close to eruption, but he resisted sliding his cock between the lush, welcoming folds of her pussy. Instead he pressed a finger, then two, into her soft, wet warmth, rhythmically pushing in and pulling out, her body thrusting against the pressure and her little cries telling him she was more than ready.
He one-handed his cock to guide it between her pussy lips, and as he thrust inside her balls-deep, his moan sounded raw and ragged. But then, this was never going to be a gentle seduction. It was two forces colliding in an explosion of fierce heat and power.
He withdrew almost all the way out. At her whimper of denial, he paused, then slammed his length back in. Every quickening stroke in and out caused her soft little cries to grow louder in volume. He gritted his teeth. He wasn’t about to come until she did first.
Seconds later her breathless gasp and clenched inner muscles revealed her release. He grasped her hips and thrust deep one last time, pouring into her with a loud groan, his body convulsing again and again until there was nothing he could do but sag against her, totally spent yet wholly alive.
Sweet Jesus. He barely knew Tara but already he was in too deep—and not just literally. He might have given Tara her first orgasm, but she’d given far more in return. Not only had she taken away all thoughts of the bizarre experience he’d gone through at the creepy old house, she’d erased his one constant regret right from his mind.
Mercedes.
In a short period of time, Tara had come to mean more to him than he even wanted to admit to himself.
He disengaged from her moist heat, before collecting her against him and bringing her down with him on the steps. And with his arm around her shoulders, her head against his chest, they sat together. No words, no small talk, nothing except basking in the moment and soaking up their intimacy.
Ten minutes later, or perhaps twenty, he’d lost all sense of time while holding her in his arms, he gathered up his clothes and got dressed before he forced himself away from Tara and out the restaurant door. He turned to her, taking in her mussed hair and rumpled dress, her flushed but achingly sad face. ‘Tara,’ he said hoarsely, ‘I don’t know what to say.’
What to do.
She pressed a kiss to his mouth, then drew back and whispered, ‘Then don’t say anything. What we shared was special. You gave me memories I’ll always cherish.’
Yet you deserve so much more.
He brushed her delicate nose with a fingertip, drinking in her beautiful face. Something wrenched in his gut, and he knew he didn’t want to leave. Not ever.
He had no choice. He had his sister and business commitments. And Tara had made it clear she wasn’t going anywhere. He forced a smile, calling on all his hard-earned bastard qualities to achieve a nonchalance he didn’t feel. ‘Thank you.’
He pivoted and strode to his car. When he climbed in, fired the ignition and looked up, Tara wasn’t there to farewell him. She’d fled inside. He swallowed, indecisive. When he reversed, a sixth sense had him turn towards the hotel.
Harrison was standing in the doorway of his hotel, inked arms crossed over his brawny chest, eyes hostile and glittering with menace.
That man was a nutcase.
And he thought he’d had issues.
Opening the window, he leaned out of the SUV. ‘Keep away from Tara.’
The barman glowered, disbelieving. ‘Are you threatening me?’
If that was what it took to protect his woman.
Not your woman, arsehole, a snide little voice reminded.
He ignored the voice. ‘I have connections in the food industry. Don’t think for a moment I won’t use them to shut down your hotel.’ He gave a mock-winning smile. ‘Is that clear?’
Harrison’s face turned ugly, but doubt flickered in the back of his stare. ‘You think you can intimidate me?’
Jessie saluted before he pushed the SUV into gear and pulled away. Harrison was smart enough to figure out the answer. He needn’t worry too much now that the other man would hassle Tara since he was out of the picture. Out of her life.
His belly clenched with rejection. Despite the fact she didn’t want to move to the city, somehow he knew he’d be seeing her again. And soon. As crazy as it seemed, he couldn’t not see her again.
Turning right at the T-intersection, not even a minute later he was pulling into a service station. He filled the bottomless pit of his Hummer’s petrol tank with a frown. Odd, he hadn’t seen this place on the way in, he was sure of it. There had only been a little old mechanic shop with its one bowser, which he’d used to refill his fuel tank.
As he pulled free the nozzle, he turned to look down the road where he’d come from, his thoughts drifting back to Tara. He wanted to turn around and drag her out of this hellhole, away from Tatts … Harrison.
If only she wanted to leave. But he couldn’t force her and, like it or not, he still had a rest
aurant to save and livelihoods on the line. Chefs, wait and bar staff, cleaners and managers, to name a few.
Retrieving his wallet, he plucked out his credit card and strode inside the brightly lit interior. A middle-aged attendant sat on a tiny chair, his big shoulders hunched over the console as he read an outspread newspaper, the bulge of his belly leaking out from under his tucked-in shirt.
Jessie raised a brow. He’d worked long, hard hours to get where he was but not everyone shared his ideals. ‘Is this the only service station in town?’ he asked.
The man raised a bushy dark brow. ‘Do you see a need for more?’
Jessie frowned, less from the service attendant’s rudeness and more from the fact he’d definitely pulled into an old, rundown mechanic shop featuring one petrol bowser, a self-serve air hose and a gum-chewing, elderly man way past retirement. That same elderly man had directed him to the supposed shortcut that’d gotten him lost.
There was also the small detail that he’d definitely not seen this place when he’d driven through earlier.
The attendant swiped Jessie’s card, an amused look breaking his obvious monotony as he glanced up and drawled, ‘No funds available.’
Jessie glowered, in no mood for backwater technology and lousy service. He pulled out two of the crumpled notes from his wallet—the very notes Tara had rejected, and slapped them onto the counter. ‘These should suffice.’
Some ten hours later, he was bleary-eyed, fatigued and way past the point of caring about conversing on his phone as he drove through the exclusive suburb of Double Bay. With a heavy sigh of relief, he pulled into the cobblestone driveway of his white-rendered mansion with views of the harbour.
He didn’t bother garaging the Hummer. He was keen to check on his sleeping sister before going to bed himself for a few hours. Then he’d make all the calls necessary to salvage his latest restaurant.
He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. What he wouldn’t do to simply collapse onto his bed and sleep away the mess he’d left behind.
