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Authors: Barbara Elsborg

TheSmallPrint (27 page)

BOOK: TheSmallPrint
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He loved the sounds she made, the little grunts and cries. He loved the feel of Turner’s mouth nuzzling his neck. He wanted him to bite but guessed he wouldn’t because of Matty. Catch loved the sucking sound of his cock sliding in and out of her wet heat, the matching sound of Turner’s cock fucking him. The air around them reeked of sex and sweat and Matty’s sweet, flowery scent.

She clenched around his shaft as she came, and at the same moment, Turner twisted his hips to nail Catch’s prostate. Catch bucked and let out a guttural groan as his balls tingled and the muscles in his groin locked down. Turner stiffened behind him, his cock swelling. As Catch’s back arched and his balls exploded to send cum shooting into Matty, he knew Turner had come as well.

Each wrenching spasm of Catch’s cock dragged an echoing gasp from his mouth. Each jet into her made him shudder with joy. Behind him, Turner trembled, his fingers still digging into Catch’s hips.

It was Matty’s soft caress of his face that finally allowed him to let go and he collapsed. Turner dragged him to one side so they didn’t crush her, and as Turner buried his face in Catch’s hair, Catch buried his in Matty’s.

It won’t last. I’ll fuck it up.

* * * * *

Turner looked from the door of the bathroom at the two people lying in his bed and wondered if he’d ever been happier. Matty was draped over Catch, one long, lean body on top of another. Turner felt…protective toward them. Catch hid his vulnerability well, but Turner knew it was there. Twenty years ago, Catch had disguised his deep-seated insecurity with a jokey exterior, and he hadn’t changed. Turner suspected that once Dava was apprehended, no matter what Catch said, he’d run at the thought of long-term commitment, and they’d both get hurt all over again.

And then there was Matty. What the hell was Turner going to do about her? If it really was Matty in that hospital, did that mean she was in some sort of limbo world? Now that Turner had finally admitted to himself that he wanted to keep her, he suspected he’d have to let her go. The same with Catch. People couldn’t be made to stay if they didn’t want to. In any case, he needed them both out of the way until he’d dealt with Dava and Gabriel.

Matty stirred as Catch slid his hand between her legs. They weren’t even able to wait for him to get cleaned up before they were on each other again. Turner rolled his eyes.

“You just going to stand there and watch?” Catch called. “I think you should. You could do with a few lessons from an expert.”

Turner laughed. He
could
have watched. He felt neither discomfort at the pair of them fucking without him, nor envy. Instead, he felt content.

“Shame to waste that boner,” Catch said. “There’s a snug little place for you to explore right here. I’ve made it all wet for you.”

Matty lifted her head, held out her arms and Turner dove into them.

Chapter Eighteen

 

Catch watched Matty slowly come round. She lay on her side, sandwiched between the two of them, facing him. She’d fallen asleep while they were still playing with her, and he and Turner had chuckled and made do with each other. Her eyes fluttered open and her mouth turned up in a little smile.
For me.

“Morning, princess.” He gave her a gentle kiss that morphed into a world’s-going-to-end-in-one-minute type and slid his hand between her legs.

Matty wrenched her mouth free. “Oh God, not now. You’ll kill me.”

Catch brushed her clit with his thumb and won a noise that said “more” not “stop”. He pressed his face into the corner of her neck, and the moment she tightened her grip on his back, he knew he had her. Within a few strokes she was panting. Matty came with a loud cry and a gush of cream soaked his hand. He loved making her come, seeing her lose control. Catch twirled his finger around the swollen bud of her clit and she thumped his back.

“No more,” she groaned.

“Yes more.”

“Turner,” Matty wailed. “Help.” She squirmed away from Catch, grabbed Turner’s arm and froze.

Ah shit.
At dawn, Turner had woken Catch, asked him to take Matty back to the attic and stay with her, and Catch had promptly fallen back to sleep.

“Something’s wrong with Turner,” she whispered. “He’s not moving. His arm’s all limp. Oh God, he’s not breathing. Is…is he dead?”

“Of course he’s not dead. He’s fine. He always sleeps like this.”

She stared at Turner’s face, stiffened, then swiveled round. “How do you know?”

Shit. Think fast.
“He told me. He’s a night bird. Some sort of sleeping sickness. He sleeps like the dead.”

“You’re not kidding.” Matty climbed over Turner and pushed herself to her feet. “I’ll open the shutters. If he comes round, he’ll see he’s missing the best part of the day.”

Catch moved fast to plant himself between a wide-eyed Matty and the window.
Too fast. Fuck, I freaked her out.

“How did you do that?” she whispered. “You were on the bed. How’d you get here so fast?”

With no idea what to say, Catch tugged her into his arms and kissed her. He’d meant it as a distraction, but the moment he felt her tongue brush his,
he
was the one distracted.

Until loud banging outside jarred him out of heaven.

“What the fuck is that?” he asked.

“It’ll be something they’re erecting for Winterval. It starts tonight.”

Catch pulled her away from the window. The shutters were locked, but little Miss Get-Through-Locked-Doors might well be able to magic them open. “How long does it go on?”

“Just tonight.”

He gaped at her. “All that effort for one night?”

She shrugged. “Yes, but it’s
all
night. From sunset to sunrise. Something about embracing darkness, my dad said. The family’s always celebrated it.”

“Your family’s lived here a long time then?”

“Centuries. Until Turner bought it.”

Catch didn’t miss the frown. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s my inheritance. I don’t understand how he managed to buy it. I’m supposed to have children and pass it on to them. Only, that’s not going to happen, is it?” She gave a rueful smile.

Catch wanted to say something reassuring but was afraid he’d say the wrong thing. The thought of kids with Matty felt like hands warming him, but she was right. It was unlikely to happen. He put his arms around her and maneuvered her toward the door.

Matty looked back at the bed. “You sure Turner’s okay?”

“He’ll be fine, but he does need to sleep. Can you do that trick with the locks on the bedroom door?”

“Why?”

He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I want to take you out and I don’t want some nosy parker bursting in and carting him off to the hospital. It happened once and he was really embarrassed.”
Please fall for it. Oh God, and forget that we haven’t seen each other in twenty years.
He needed to keep his mouth shut. He was going to stick both feet, both hands and his ass in there.

“Okay.”

Catch beamed. “Let me get something of Turner’s to wear. I suspect my gear is still lying in a puddle of water downstairs.”

When he opened the closet, Catch snickered. Everything was neatly hung and arranged by type and color. He helped himself, lifted a towel and shower gel from the bathroom and went back to the bedroom door.

“Should we leave him a note?” Matty asked.

“We’ll be back before he wakes. Make sure you pull every bolt before you come out.”

He left the room and she closed the door behind him. Catch heard the key turn and the slide of metal. The door opened again and Matty stepped out. Once it was closed, Catch turned the handle but it didn’t open.

“That is so cool,” he said.

“But weird,” Matty added. “Talking of weird. Did Turner tell you I’m invisible?”

“Hey, you’re the most beautiful woman I ever saw.”

Matty rolled her eyes. Catch caught her chin and held her facing him.

“The. Most. Beautiful,” he repeated.

Her gaze dropped to his erection.

“I’m not saying that because I want to fuck you. To prove it, I won’t. Go grab a shower and get dressed. Put on something warm because we’ll take the bike. Meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes. I need to find something to eat. I already know there’s nothing worthwhile in the fridge.”

He could hardly tear his attention away from her backside as she made her way to the attic stairs. Catch’s cock was screaming abuse at him. There was nothing he wanted more than to bury himself inside her, but it was a wonder she could walk. He and Turner had spent hours exploring
almost
every part of her, a shared unspoken thought that they wouldn’t go too far—yet.

Catch showered and dressed, and as he passed Turner’s door, he checked again that it was locked before he went downstairs. When he picked up his leather jacket and retrieved his mobile, he saw he’d had five missed calls. All from his boss Mason.
Shit.

Mason answered on the first ring. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“Good morning to you too.”

“Why haven’t you answered your phone? I thought you must be dead.”

“Bad reception,” Catch said. “What’s up?”

“One of the VRB guys has gone missing. They have a strict checking-in procedure and he’s failed to get in contact.”

Catch guessed before Mason told him. “Ken Burton?” Catch asked with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Yes. But it was Gabriel who reported him as not having turned up. They told him they’d send someone next week. The idiots still think Gabriel is in his apartment doing Sudoku. If it hadn’t been for the fact regulations require the VRB to notify us of any aberration, we still wouldn’t know. So good thing you’re with Turner.”

Catch almost dropped the phone.

“Credit me with some intelligence,” Mason said. “Though I’m not convinced the pair would have any interest in the vamp. Of what use is a discredited historian? Unless there’s something you’re not telling me? Are they planning something else involving Turner again? What’s he been doing for the last twenty years?”

“Turner’s not involved with them,” Catch said quietly.

“Right. It wasn’t him then that maintained the Purelight diaries were the real thing even after Gabriel had been discredited as a fraudster, piling up millions in the bank? The more I think about it, the better it is that you’re there. I’m making it official. You’re on the case. If Gabriel and Dava are going to resurrect Purelight, they might well want Turner with them.”

“Why would they put themselves through that again?” Catch asked, though he knew the answer. Money.

“There are still idiots out there who want to believe. Gabriel will be more careful this time, tying donations up in the small print and paying his taxes. If you need help—ask. Don’t get yourself killed.”

“And I love you too.”

Mason laughed. “I wouldn’t give a shit, but the paperwork’s a bitch.”

Catch ended the call. He looked up to see Matty standing in the doorway of the living room.

“Who were you talking to?” she asked.

She sounded wrong. Catch reran the last moments of the conversation and cringed. “My boss.”

“You love her?” she whispered.

“Him. No, I don’t. It was a figure of speech, princess. He told me not to get myself killed.”

The moment that came out of his mouth, Catch knew he’d said too much.
Yet again.

“Why would you get yourself killed?” Her eyes had opened wide.

“I’ll tell you over breakfast. Okay?”

Relief filled him as she nodded.

She wore jeans that looked too big for her and the ugliest sweater Catch had ever seen. Some pink thing with multi-colored overlapping triangles. So she had no dress sense. There were worse things and she looked better out of clothes anyway.
Keep your mouth shut, moron.

Matty tugged at the hem of her sweater. “I know it’s horrible but it’s the warmest thing I have.”

“I’ll lend you my jacket.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Is it that bad?” She shot him a look of despair and bolted up the stairs.

Fuck, now what have I done?
Catch gave a heavy sigh and followed her.

He found her kneeling in the middle of a pile of clothes, tossing one item after another over her shoulder.

“No closet?” Catch asked.

“Does it look like it?” Her voice was dull.

He dropped down by her side. “What is it? I really don’t give a fuck what you wear. The sweater’s—”

“Horrible. These are my mother’s old clothes. I bought some jeans and pants, but I’ve almost run out of cash.” She hiccupped a sob. “Even though no one can see me, I still want to look nice.”

“I’ll buy you a new sweater.” He pulled her to her feet. “Come on. Nearest large town. Breakfast then shopping.”

* * * * *

Even though Matty couldn’t eat, she enjoyed watching Catch make short work of a plateful of food, though his stomach had to be a bottomless pit. The smell of bacon and eggs made her long to shovel them into her mouth, but Matty knew she’d throw them up if she did.

The waitress had tried to flirt with Catch, but he only had eyes for Matty. Of course the woman now thought he was a nutcase because he sat talking to himself, smiling across the table at a nonexistent companion.

“When did you realize you were invisible?” Catch asked.

The waitress snorted behind him.

“People ignored me. I assumed they were just being rude to start with and then I realized they couldn’t hear me or see me.” She sighed. “The stupid thing is that I thought it was cool at first, that I could have fun. That didn’t last long. No one to talk to, no one to touch, no one to touch me—not fun at all.” To be in the world and yet not in it had been almost unbearable. Matty hadn’t realized how hard it was being lonely.

“How long have you been like this?”

“Nearly eight months.”

Catch frowned. “So what happened eight months ago?”

“I don’t know. I woke up naked in my old bedroom at Milford Hall. I hadn’t lived there for years but it was still my family home. My mum and dad lived there until a year ago. Mum died of a brain aneurysm and a week later my dad had a fatal heart attack. I hadn’t wanted to go back, though I knew I’d have to sort out everything eventually.”

BOOK: TheSmallPrint
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