Buying Thyme (7 page)

“Shower?” I ask to shake the moment.
 

Tench looks at me with a look that I can’t quite place.

“Sure.” He replies as coldly as the old Tench would.  

He rips himself out of me with an offending jerk, snatching himself away from me as if I were trying to take something from him. I wonder what I’ve done wrong. I hope he didn’t recognise that I didn’t orgasm. No, no one ever does. Even the most sex-crazed men fall for that old chestnut! I grab my bikini bottoms from the ledge of the pool and slide them back on before I exit the water. Tench on the other hand, jumps straight out, in all his nakedness, and unceremoniously strolls over to the pool house for all to see. If the rocking backwards and forwards in the pool wasn’t enough for Mrs Oktar to put two and two together then this certainly will! But then again, she’s most probably used to it with Tench. The very thought causes me to start thinking about how many other women he’s done this for. The others probably weren’t paid for either. They all probably fell for his bad-boy persona, hook, line and sinker! I follow him into the pool house shower, which is an entire wet room with one huge showerhead, the size of a large Frisbee hanging from the ceiling. Stripping down, I come up behind Tench and run my hands around him, grabbing down at his length from behind and cupping his whole package in both hands.

“So what excitement do you have in store for us tonight Mr Tench?” I query as I breathe into the back of his neck.

“I was thinking you can chose tonight Miranda.” He replies as he turns around to face me.

“Well I did bring those handcuffs with me, and a riding crop that I could put to good use on you?”

“
Ha!
Miranda. You know I don’t let anyone do that sort of shit to me. I was thinking something a bit more on the
normal side
.” He holds my face between his hands and kisses my lips, planting gentle kisses from one side to the other.

“What, you mean like a candlelit dinner under the st
ars kind of normal?” I suggest playfully as a dig toward his extravagant display the night before.

“No, I was thinking more like Pizza and a movie… kind of normal.” He says almost shyly.
 

What! Oh no!
Not the ‘
couple
’ thing… What does this man want from me?
Tench, you were always my one client who never wanted that bullshit from me!
Hopefully he just needs a bit of company and then I’m done with him for a few more months again.

“Anything you say Mr Tench, it’s your booking after all.”

He rolls his eyes and turns around to rinse his face off in the water before he exits the shower. Why does the wild and unpredictable underworld figure, ‘Joe Tench’ keep avoiding the whole ‘I’m your hooker’ reality of our situation? Why does he look so uncomfortable every time I mention it?

Back in Tench’s
bedroom, I change into the most ‘relaxed’ clothing I have on hand, given that I’m here purely for sexual seduction. I put on a black see-through singlet top that clings around my bare breasts and matching long pants that sit loosely around my legs. I attempt modesty by putting on some black Brazilian underwear under the see-through pants. Tench on the other hand puts on black sweatpants that hang effortlessly, outlining his package in front. He eyes me up and down as he comes out of his walk-in closet, smiling and shaking his head at the same time.

“I love that you aren’t afraid to flaunt your body Miranda. It’s very sexy. You
should
be proud of it and I have to say, I never get sick of the sight of it either.”

If only he knew how the real me felt. I would much prefer to be in sweatpants and a t-shirt, but this is the
working me
. The consummate professional while in the presence of a client, and always mindful of what they want me to be. Tench has no idea that this isn’t the real me… and I’m not about to let up on his fantasy either. Problem is, I’m not sure if he would like the real me? Maybe he is right, do I do this to remind myself of the distance that I must keep from the real me? Maybe this is my coping mechanism. Be someone else that I’m not, so that the real me doesn’t get hurt.

“Come on hot stuff. Let’s go choose a movie for tonight.” He says, hand out stretched waiting to meet mine.
 

I accept his hand and he leads me back down the stairs to a room left of the bar area. Tench flicks a light on, and I instantly notice that it’s a cinema room. Of course! Here I was picturing a couch and a TV in the lounge area. Instead, there are two rows of couches. The first row consisting of one big, long red velvet couch scattered with cushions. The second row made up of six wide recliners. Tench walks over to the far end and switches on a light, flooding an entire snack bar in the back corner, complete with a vintage popcorn machine. My eyes are wide with amazement. I’ve never seen anything like it before.

“You like?” He says, already knowing the answer by the dumbfounded look upon my face. 

I try and pull myself back together again.

“You obviously take your movie watching seriously!” I say in an attempt to hide my astonishment.

“So what would you like to watch tonight? What genre do you prefer?” Tench asks, picking up an iPad from the snack bar.
 

He begins to slide his finger across the screen, flicking through the countless titles that whiz by on its display.

“Ah… I like anything really. I prefer the classics. Anything from the ‘80’s or ‘90’s is definitely amongst my favourites.” I manage to re-enter the conversation.

“Me too! I love the Psycho-noir era of the ‘90’s. They don’t make movies like that anymore.” Tench says with his boyish grin, excited by the thought of his favourite movies. “Here, take this with you and we will choose a movie while we make ourselves some pizza.”
 

I take the iPad from him, wondering why Mrs Oktar isn’t making pizza. Does Tench usually cook for himself? I couldn’t imagine someone like him whipping up a storm in the kitchen. We make our way over to the other side of the mansion to the kitchen. Tench pulls out a stool for me to sit on. “Would you like a glass of wine, or a beer… or maybe something harder?”

I look up from the iPad upon hearing the word harder and raise an eyebrow at him.

“Harder?” I ask cheekily.

“Miranda! You sexy thing. I could just about have you on this bench if you keep that up.”

“Promise?” I smile.

Tench smiles back, “Later. First… dinner.” He moves over to the digital control screen on the wall that Mrs Oktar used earlier to control the music. Pressing a button, he leans in. “Toni. Can you grab Miranda and I two… ah…” He looks over in my direction, shrugging his shoulders. I shrug back. “…Coronas with lime thanks Toni.”

“Sure thing boss.” I hear Toni’s amplified response from the digital control. Tench presses a couple more buttons on the touch screen. Bob Marley’s smooth reggae beats spring to life through the kitchen’s speakers singing
Is This Love.  

“I’m going to make you pizza the real way! New York style. The way my mum taught me.” Tench says while shaking his ass around to the music.
 

I can’t help but laugh and feel very relaxed around him tonight. I wonder about Tench’s mum, they never mention her in the media. There’s only ever mention of his father.

Toni comes into the kitchen carrying a stainless steel bucket of six Coronas in ice -and a beaming grin- and places them on the bench.

“Hey Miranda. Have a nice night.” He says with a hint of a giggle.
 

I’m not sure if he’s giggling at my common lack of clothing in this house, or at Tench jigging around the kitchen, cooking me Pizza from scratch. A flurry of flour and other ingredients fly around the bench as Tench works the mixture into a round puff of dough. Placing a
tea-towel over the bowl, he turns to me with his brilliant smile, obviously pleased with his effort.

“So we have two hours before this rises. Now I can think of something to do in that time.” Tench says with a wicked grin.
 

He comes over to me and lifts me by the waist onto the kitchen bench. Pulling out another condom from his pocket, he rips my pants off me and pulls his pants down. I’m instantly swept into a frenzy of passion once more. He spreads me across the kitchen bench, much like the dough he just worked with. I hear the clanging of stainless steel, but fail to register what exactly is happening within the room, as Tench begins to pound me like pizza dough.

A beautiful zephyr
bounces off the harbour’s water, and blows magnificently through the kitchen window. It cools my perspired body after almost two hours of feverish fucking in various positions and places around the kitchen, finishing finally on the floor beside the kitchen island. Tench kisses my forehead as he gets up and finds his pants that were removed and strewn across to floor at one point during our wild romp. Pulling them back on, he holds his hand out and helps me off the ground, and hands me a Corona.

“Here’s to yet another brilliant night with you Miranda.” He says holding out his Corona bottle to mine.
 

I smile, but not really knowing if I’ve actually done anything special. It’s all been Tench really. I should be saluting him for showing me such a good time for once.

“Here’s to the night still being young.” I reply, and he laughs.

“Well let’s check out how this dough turned out.” He says with an eager smile.
 

The dough has doubled in size and Tench looks more than pleased with himself.

“Let me show you how to toss out this baby.” He says arm stretched out, summoning me to come over to him. 

I stand in front of him at the kitchen bench. He works with his arms around me, kneading the dough. He grabs my hands and places them on the dough under his hands and forces them into the dough with slow, sexy strokes.

“That’s it Miranda. Feel the bubbles within the dough free themselves under your hands.” 

I wonder what he’s talking about now.
 The dough… or something else? Tench starts positioning my hands. The dough takes the shape of a circle under the pushing and pulling motion of our hands. 

“Okay, stand back and watch a pro.” He says with a cocky grin.
 

Tench grabs the circle of dough and throws it wildly in the air, spinning as it’s thrown upwards. It lands back down into Tench’s hands. He repeats the process again and the dough has doubled in size. Tench looks so calm and relaxed and… happy… in his kitchen… making
me
pizza. I never thought I’d see this. He grabs an unlabelled jar from the fridge and spreads the tomato looking sauce over the pizza base. 

“A special sauce recipe of my mothers.” He says with an excited smile.
 

He covers the base with cheese and pepperoni then sprinkles it with oregano. Grabbing the uncooked pizza on its tray, Tench places the whole thing in a wide, specially made pizza oven in the far left corner of the kitchen. I sit on my stool, drinking my beer and silently watch Tench glide around his kitchen, unable to say anything at all to add to the moment. I think I’m just enjoying seeing Tench so relaxed.

“So what movie are we watching tonight?” He suddenly pulls me from my pleasant daydream.

“Oh…” I look down at the iPad in my hands, and realise I have been completely distracted by Tench and haven’t yet chosen anything. I can feel myself blushing at the sudden realisation that I’ve been captivated by this man once again. I click open the screen of the iPad and choose the first movie that pops up on the screen.

“I thought we’d go with… American Psycho?” I look up at Tench with a slightly stumped look on my face.

“Great choice Miranda!” Tench says with a beaming smile.
 

Great!
Why did I have to choose a movie about an egotistical, misogynistic banker who slaughters a few prostitutes, amongst some other friends and people who generally piss this guy off? Tench laughs as he looks at the cover on the iPad in my hands and looks up at me.

“You always amaze me Miranda.” Holding his hand out for me again, he carries the bucket of Corona’s in his other, “Let’s go get comfy in the theatre room. Toni can bring in the pizza once it’s done.”

“Where’s Mrs Oktar?” I ask.

“She’s back in her quarters. I let her take the evenings off. It’s easier for me to get work done that way. But she’s always nearby. Toni is more attuned to my… ah… lifestyle. So he’s usually just a few steps away from me.”
 

Is that Joe Tench just admitting to me that he is a criminal? Is that what he means by
‘lifestyle’
?

“Oh. Makes sense.” I say trying to sound ignorant to the admission.

We sit. We eat Tench’s homemade pizza. We watch the movie. We drink Corona’s with lime. We generally enjoy each other’s company. We go to bed and roll around in each other’s arms for hours. If I wasn’t his whore, could I fall in love with Tench and accept his
‘lifestyle’
?

CHAPTER 6

For the second
morning in a row, I wake without Tench lying next to me. I wrap my kimono around my body and head down stairs. It all feels noticeably like ground hog day as I make my way to the kitchen. This time however, I find Tench sitting in the kitchen laughing with Mrs Oktar as she’s pouring him a cup of coffee. Mrs Oktar spots me and smiles, triggering Tench to turn around and smile a sweet, if not amorous smile at me.

“Morning gorgeous. You’re just in time to help us decide on what to put in our baguettes to take on our adventure today. We were both trying to think what you would like best.”

“Adventure?” I ask intrigued.

“Yep. Just you and me and this outstanding day. Tea or coffee gorgeous?”

“Coffee thanks.”

“Latte with one again dear?” Mrs Oktar adjoins.

“Yes thank you.” I sit next to Tench at the kitchen island, staring blankly at him.

“What kind of adventure are we going on today?” I ask rather eager to know what Tench is up to again.

“We’re taking out my mistress.” His eyes light up with the thought.

“Pardon?” I’m assuming he doesn’t mean a person. Otherwise I would imagine I’m the only person he would refer to as his mistress!

“I’ll show you in good time Miranda. Now what do you think about prawn and spiced lime baguettes?”

“They sound fine.” I sip my coffee in anticipation of the unknown. What is Tench up to now? Does he do this with all the women he tries to woo in his life? Is he even trying to woo me? I’m just a prostitute after all. Essentially, he can treat me any way he wishes during our booking. There’s no reason to impress me, that’s for sure. I’m only here because I’m being paid to be here. I think I’d like to keep it that way too. No matter what his intentions are. Or what all this affection he’s showing towards me means. I continue to remind myself that I too, must to keep this strictly business.

“Feel free to get yourself another bikini from the pool house for our day out.” He says with a charming smile.

“And you’re not going to tell me where we’re going or what we’re doing?” I try again to get an answer out of Tench.

“Nope.” He says, raising his eyebrows and smiling as he shakes his head.

I decide to
wear the same bikini and kaftan as the day before. I figure there’s no use wasting bikinis just for the sake of it, no matter how much money Tench has. I fish around in my suitcase for my Ray-Ban aviator sunglasses, and decide I had better dose up on sun lotion before heading out. I slip on some flat sandals and grab my handbag, tossing in
Great Expectations,
and finally remember to take a strip of condoms with me. I twist my hair up into a high slick top-knot as I head back downstairs and find Tench talking to Toni near the bar.

“I know what you’re saying, but I just want to be left alone Toni. Just one day. I have my phone. Use one of the telescopes up in the observatory if you need.”

What on earth does Toni need a telescope for? Where is Tench taking me? Is it dangerous? Tench notices me coming down the stairs over Toni’s shoulder and smiles, “I like this one.” He says as he puts his arm around my waist and rubs my thigh.

“So you’re all ready to go?” Tench reaches down and takes my hand in his.

“Yeah… I guess so.” I notice Toni has a troubled look on his face. 

Suddenly I feel very vulnerable in Tench’s company. I remind myself that the Agency know who I’m with. So if I was to go missing, then they’d know where to find me right? So I can’t be in any kind of danger surely? I look up at Tench and back at Toni who is looking down at the ground. Tench catches my look of concern.

“Ah, don’t worry about him Miranda. He’s just annoyed that he’s not coming with us on such a picturesque day.”

“It’s not that boss. It’s just… with everything that’s gone on lately… that’s all.” Toni says with trepidation in his voice.

“Come on Miranda. Let’s get out there. The day is getting away from us while we stand here debating this issue with Toni. I’ll call you when we need picking up.” He says to Toni, and picks up the large wicker picnic basket from the bar in one hand. The basket must be heavy, the sudden weight of it tilts him to one side. Toni rushes to him. 

“Here boss let me take that down there for you.” He says as he grabs the basket out of Tench’s hand.
 

Toni holds his hand outward motioning us to walk past. As we’re walking I notice Tench’s immaculate dress standard. He’s donning a fantastic cream Panama hat with his cream chino pants, rolled up at the bottom with brown boat shoes and a light blue button up shirt.
Damn!
I wish I had a big sun hat for wherever we’re going. Tench heads out on the terrace towards the harbour. So I know that we’re going on a picnic…
A picnic?
Really Joe Tench?

He guides me to the side of the pool house and I notice a set of stairs leading down to the waters edge, where a small boathouse sits. Beside it is a small wharf where the most spectacular luxury motor-yacht is docked.
Wow!
I didn’t even notice you could access the water from property yesterday, when I was beside the pool. The yacht must easily be over a hundred feet in length. The hull is a nautical dark blue and contrasts beautifully with the white top half of the yacht. As we edge down to the wharf I see the name of the boat ‘
Miss Stress
’ across its stern in a metallic gold.
Ah
…
his mistress!
There is a superb wooden deck across the stern of the boat, and another lower deck, sitting flush with the wharf. Two staircases lead up either side of the rear pontoon. Tench releases my hand and steps across the narrow gap between the wharf and the boat’s pontoon, and holds out both of his hands to assist me getting across. Toni hands over the picnic basket. We head up the stairs and into the huge cabin of the
Miss Stress
.

“Okay. Grand tour.” Tench says as he places the picnic basket down on the coffee table in the main saloon.
 

The boat’s interior is rich dark wood with cream carpet, cream leather couches and black finishes in the cushions and other accessories. The starboard side of the main saloon has a beautiful dark dining table for eight, with a corner bench along the wall on one side. The bench is scattered with bright orange cushions. Beyond the dining table is the lower helm station, with two large black leather captain-style chairs and a large board in front of the window, teeming with controls and navigational gadgets. The galley to the port side is fancier than my kitchen at home, with white granite bench tops and black cupboards, complete with stainless steel oven, cook top and other appliances. All the mod cons one would be proud of in their own home, let alone on a boat. Once again, I feel overwhelmed by the sheer extravagance of Joe Tench, “Did you want to look at the bedrooms downstairs now or later?” He says with a mischievous smirk.

I try and maintain my poise and remember that I’m being paid right now, so I should do as he suggests. Even though I really need to sit down before I fall down.

“We could look now?” I say with an unconvincing smile.
 

Tench’s eyes narrow at me. My mind races. What must he be thinking right now?

“No. I want to save you for later. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll go and help Toni cast us off.” Tench says as he leaves the saloon. 

I take a seat on the corner bench opposite to where the helm area is. This way I can see out the front and be close to Tench. I feel the boat rock slightly as we float away from the wharf. Tench comes back to take his seat at the helm. Pushing a button, the entire yacht rattles under the immense twin V12 engines below. The water muffles the boats guttural purrs, and we launch towards the open harbour ahead. Toni’s voice broadcasts out of a speaker on the control panel, “Tango Tango to Mike Sierra.”

“Mike Sierra.” Tench rolls his eyes at me as he replies into the hand held receiver.

“Oh good boss. Just confirming that we have the Jet Ski’s on standby if anything happens okay.”

“Copy. Thank you Toni.” He says as he places the receiver back onto the hook, “Toni is a little hyper sensitive when I do things without him.” He says trying to comfort me.

“But we’re not going far away at all. See that island just in the middle of the harbour there.” He points to the tiny island in the short distance.

“That’s Clark Island. It’s ours for the day. I’ve hired the whole island so that we can be alone.” 

His grin is infectious and soon enough I can’t stop smiling. I don’t know if it’s from being out on the water or in this amazing boat or the fact that Tench has hired out an entire island on the harbour for
us to spend the day together… completely alone. He’s even called Toni off for the day. Is that wise given the avowed incidents of late that have caused so many burdens on Tench? Incidents that has apparently turning him into an affectionate recluse!

The boat slices
through the water with ease as we approach the diminutive island ahead. Tench shifts the boat into neutral and looks at me with a soft smile. The boat slows to a placid drift.

“Come and hold the wheel steady for me gorgeous, while I tie off.” He says in a half demand, half encouraging manner.
 

I sit at the helm and hold the wheel steady as the boat glides gracefully and gently, alongside the island’s wharf. I look out of the starboard side. Tench has jumped onto the wharf to sling the ropes around the low bitts attached to the wharf. He manoeuvres around the wharf like an experienced seaman. I remain at the helm with the wheel completely steady until Tench comes back into the cabin,

“You can cut the engine now gorgeous. Just press the big red button on the control board.” He’s gleaming like an excited schoolboy as he almost skips about the cabin. 

I hit the switch and the engine grumbles to a dead silence and all that can be heard is the soft ripples of the water licking against the side of the hull. Tench potters in the galley and emerges with a bottle of champagne in a handled wine bucket. He’s still smiling as he grabs the picnic basket and places the champagne on top of it. He then leans down at a side cupboard in the main saloon and pulls out a soft blue and white checked picnic rug. I grab my handbag and follow Tench to the back deck,

“Oh, I almost forgot the towels.” He stops and turns to me,

“Can you head down the stairs and the first cupboard directly in front is full of towels. Thanks gorgeous.” He says with appreciation.
 

I head down to the stairs on the port side of the saloon, to the lower level. It too is beautifully crafted in the same dark wood as the saloon area above. There are a series of doors that lead off the corridor. From what I can see, there are four bedrooms and a bathroom in my immediate view.
Whoa!
This has to be the most luxurious boat I have ever seen! I quickly grab two large black and white striped beach towels from the cupboard and head back up the stairs to where Tench is patiently waiting for me. He leans in and gives me a quick but enthusiastic kiss, before turning and heading for the stairs. I follow him onto the lower pontoon and watch him skip effortlessly onto the wharf. I hop onto the wharf with ease also and follow Tench onto the grassy island shaded by native trees. A short walk leads us over to the northern tip of the island where a group of wide palm trees swell out of the grass. Walking beyond the palms we throw our blanket and ourselves beside the small strip of sand by the waters edge. The island has a gorgeous unobstructed view over the city and the harbour bridge. In all my time in Sydney, I have neither been to, nor even taken any notice of this secluded little island. Tench places the picnic basket and wine bucket down, and lays out the rug on the grass. He unbuttons his shirt, exposing a glimpse of the inked dragon on his magnificent chest. He sits, and reclines back onto the rug. I roll the towels up and put them at the top of the rug to create two cushions, and I too lean back down next to Tench.

“Drink gorgeous?” He asks as he reaches over to the basket and pulls out two champagne glasses.

“Yes please.” 

I lean on my elbows and watch the various water craft pass by the island. I’m not quite sure of why Tench has brought me here, or what his motives are yet again. I attempt to gain some information from him, in order to aid my overactive mind a little.

“So do you do this kind of thing for all the girls?” I ask in a playful way, hoping to lessen the recognition of an interrogation.

“I haven’t, no. You know me Miranda. I’ve never really had to impress women.
Specially
not a specific individual.” Tench responds without raising his eyes from the champagne he’s pouring.

Did he just say he’s trying to impress me?
I guess that’s fairly obvious given the past forty odd hours, but why? Why me? I try and find some clever words to respond to that statement, but my wit deserts me. I take the glass of champagne from Tench’s outstretched hand and take a sip. Staring blankly out into the harbour, I try to seem untroubled by his confession but I can feel Tench staring at me. I daren’t look back at him and maintain my ignorance towards the subject. I just don’t want to know more therefore, I don’t want to ask any further questions. I just have to let my energetic mind make up its own theory and go along with the
Joe Tench ride
for now.