HEATHER

I don't know how long I stood there, frozen in the wake of Uma and Lachlan's departure, trying to make sense of what had just happened.  Trying to make sense of my own feelings.  The idea of having to face them again at breakfast made my stomach churn with a sickening sense of dread.  There are times I wonder if I'm really suited to playing this Game.  Sharing carefully chosen words about an intimate moment is one thing.  Sharing the moment itself is another matter entirely.

I felt angry that someone else had intruded upon a moment of such intense emotional intimacy.  I felt profound disappointment because I knew Uma's presence meant an end to my time with Terry.  That hurt so much, having our few stolen moments torn away so abruptly.  I felt guilt for sharing this time with him now, knowing his wife was downstairs.  Conversely, my heart ached for Uma.  She'd been struggling for so long and she deserved a joyous reunion with Terry.  His matter-of-fact dismissal must have cut her to the quick. 

Worst of all was my feeling of shame that Lachlan had witnessed my intimacy with another man.  I know he's playing the Game too, but I also know he has old-fashioned sensibilities and that what he saw would brand me a tart in his mind.  I am not ashamed of what Terry and I found together, but I've had feelings for Lachlan for so long and couldn't imagine how he'd never want me now.  You never get a second chance to make a first impression.  How could he ever look at me and not see me straddling Terry's lap?  It killed me to know I could do nothing to change the fact that his first memory of me would always be of me in an intimate embrace with another man.  And not just any man.  The man first in the heart of the woman he'd grown to care deeply for.     

Even though Lachlan had never been mine, I felt the loss of him so keenly my body felt heavy with it.  He's from a different time.  He might play the Game the same as all the others, but I know deep in my heart, for himself, he wants a nice girl.  A good girl.  Not the girl shagging his boss....even if what we were really doing was a hundred times more meaningful than that.  Somehow, that only made it worse.    

I know this had to have been excruciating for Terry too, caught between his wife and... well, whatever it was I'd become to him.  I knew from the nothing-but-business mask he'd been wearing when he walked back in here with Uma that he was hurting terribly.  It's his retreat, his place of safety that gives him the distance he needs to function when all he wants to do is withdraw into himself. 

Numbly, I realized I could hear the water running in the shower.  Despite what had happened, I knew better than to think I shouldn't join him.  He'd made that perfectly clear when he'd issued the invitation in front of both Uma and Lachlan.  I'm still not sure why he did that.  Was it nothing more than his business persona finding the most expedient way of getting the job done?  Or was it more a subtle dig aimed at Lachlan?  Terry has a possessive streak a mile wide.  He knows he can't warn me off the other Brothers the way he can with Uma or Ann, but he'd also made it quite clear that my time with him was for him and him alone. 

Steeling myself for what I knew would be a difficult moment, I followed him into the bathroom.  I found him naked, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet with his forearms on his knees and his head hung low.  His chin came up when he heard my footsteps and his eyes were full of misery.  I went to him without hesitation and he unbelted my robe and wrapped his arms around my legs as he rested his cheek against my stomach, eyes closed, breathing slow and deep.  I cradled him to me and just stroked his shoulders gently, allowing him the time I knew he needed to gather his thoughts.  

I felt it in him, the moment he realized he wasn't as confused as he believed he was.  His heart had always known the truth path.  His mind had just been too caught up in the moment to follow along at the same pace.  I knew he would see it as soon as he'd calmed down.  Life had presented him with the clearest choice possible.  That he charged after Uma without the slightest bit of hesitation said more than any words ever could.  He could entertain what ifs and maybes until the cows came home, but that would never change the fact that he was, and always would be, in love with her.

He held me tighter and whispered against my skin, "I'm sorry."

I cupped his cheeks in my palms and waited for him to meet my eyes.  "I'm not," I whispered back.  I'd had my fair share of what ifs and maybes too, but like him, my secret heart had never wavered.  Of course, it still hurt.  There was still pain and guilt and resentment.  It is true the Game has rules governing that....but they have no magic power to keep our heartstrings from becoming entangled.  The Game cannot negate human nature.  Jealousy, possession, hurt... these things could never truly be absent where hearts and emotions are involved. 

Terry stood and touched my naked throat.  No pearls.  "Thank you for that, lassie."  He kissed me, deep and slow and with an edge of desperation.  "That is not something I wanted to share."  Smooth as silk, Diary, and yet there was more in his words than an admission of thanks for a thoughtful gesture.  There was an underlying reminder that the things we had shared were private and precious, unique to us and our moment.  And there was also the sense that our treasured moments were in no way threatened by what we might share with others. 

He held me tighter and pushed my robe from my shoulders, clearly seeking intimacy of a sexual nature in the wake of such intense emotional intimacy.  I wanted him and yet I felt guilty, confused.  I didn't go as far as pushing him away but I wasn't comfortable, not with Lachlan and Uma downstairs, most likely imagining this very scenario.  "Terry-"  

"Shh..."  He touched my lips.  "Don't think of her.  Don't think of him.  This is our time, lassie."  He brought my hand to his cock and held it there, both of us touching him together.  He was so hard, already beginning to weep.  "Christ, we have so little time left, so bloody little.  I need to touch you."  He buried his face in my hair and pulled me so tight against him it was hard to draw breath.  "Please."  A whisper so soft I almost didn't hear it, then stronger, "Let me love you."

I did not deny him.  In truth, my feelings for him ran far too deep to turn on and off at will, no matter how much I wished I could.  He pulled me into the shower and I remember being thankful for the steam and the water cascading down over us.  At least that way, he wouldn't see my tears. 

TERRY

I dislike chaos.  In the field, in negotiation and especially in my own mind.  Switching mental gears between women isn't like flipping a light switch, especially when all my blood's in my dick and not my brain.  There is no easy answer, no way of fitting all my feelings into one neat little box, not even for an old soldier like me who's used to compartmentalizing his life. 

I managed to keep my game face on while I needed to, but it was nowhere to be seen now.  I sat down on the loo and rubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes.   I hate confusion because it implies lack of foresight and lack of attention to detail.  Two things I pride myself on.  There was something here I was missing.  Some pattern I hadn't seen.  Some answer obscured by the intensity of my feelings for Heather. 

Heather.  

And then it hit me.  What my sweet Annie had started in New York, Heather had finished here in Manila.  She'd ridden out the storm with me as Lachlan had done with Tink.  She hadn't given me back myself.  I'd done that on my own, but she'd helped me to find the man I was before all this shit with Raul happened.  It was then, in that moment, I realized I'd been just as lost as Tink.  And just as close to the edge.  And Jesus, Heather... what we had ran deep, both because of the woman she was and because of what we'd shared.  And to be honest, it scared the piss out of me that Tink had, in all likelihood, formed a similar attachment to Lachlan. 

I was still trying to wrap my head around that when Heather walked in.  She took one look at my face and came to me straight away.  Just held me in that quiet way she has that settles me deep inside.  Everything gelled for me with crystal clarity the moment I took her into my arms.  Yes, I had found something incredibly special with her, but holding her was not the same as holding my fairy girl.  Nothing was.  And I was a bloody great fool to have ever doubted it. 

It didn't lessen what I felt for Heather, though.  And the absence of my gift brought that home to me more eloquently than any words ever could.  It was only then, only after I'd gotten my head sorted, that I touched her sexually.  Despite her hesitation, I knew we both needed it.  Not as a goodbye, but as a tangible expression of an intangible connection.  We also needed resolution to the feelings we'd stirred in each other earlier.  I did not want to go to Tink revved up because of another woman's touch, but it was more than just that.  Faced with our parting, I was desperate to touch her.  To hold onto what we had for just a few more moments. 

I took her hard and fast against the shower wall.  Frantic for the feel of her.  The taste of her.  Angry at the water for washing my scent from her body.  Wanting to fly with her one last time before I had to let her go.  It was over in minutes.  I pretended not to notice her wet eyes.  She extended the same courtesy to me.  We washed each other in silence, with tender hands where we'd been wild and needy only moments before.  She pressed her face to my neck as I rinsed my semen from between her legs.  Another intimacy gone.  Another step apart. 

Afterwards, we dried each other tenderly but with a care for the time.  She dressed while I shaved.  Gave her hair a quick pass with the dryer while I dressed.  Still no words between us.  Not until we'd reached the lift.  I'd been holding her hand since we left our suite and I gave it a squeeze as the doors slid shut.  To tell the truth, we didn't need many words.  Both of us knew this wasn't goodbye.  She smiled at me.  I smiled at her.  "Reckon you're ready to face the music, love?"  Although I was aching to see Tink, I knew none of us were looking forward to the awkwardness of breakfast.  Needed to be done though.

"Nope.  You?"

"Absolutely not."  We shared a conspirational look, but the light moment quickly faded.  I drew her to me, just for moment, and met her eyes.  "I'm so glad you came to me, lassie."

"Me too, Charlie."  She squeezed my hand.  "Me too."

HEATHER

I released Terry's hand the moment the doors opened in the lobby.  The very last thing I wanted to do was to hurt Uma by appearing possessive and to be honest, the thought of holding hands with Terry in front of Lachlan made me uncomfortable.  The closer we got to the restaurant, the worse I felt.  I should have just stayed in the room.  I needed to pack anyway.  I knew Terry would get a new room to share with Uma and although the suite was lovely, I had no desire to stay there alone with my memories. 

My cheeks were hot.  I did not want to face either of them.  I knew they'd think we'd been upstairs making love....and we had, which made this whole situation a hundred times worse.   I couldn't decide what was more upsetting; having to sit at a table with Uma after just making love to Terry, having to watch Terry with Uma because I knew he'd be taking his rightful place at her side after breakfast, or having all this play out in front of Lachlan.  I'd been in the Game for months and I hadn't even been able to work up the courage to talk to him.  Having to share this uncomfortable moment with him was the worst kind of torture.      

I balked at the entrance to the restaurant.  Terry felt my hesitation and gave me a reassuring smile.  I felt the touch of his fingers at my back, which was both calming but also mortifying because I know both Uma and Lachlan had seen him do it.  He whispered 'steady on'.  I wasn't sure whether he was talking to me or to himself.  We took our seats with little fuss.  Terry had his game face firmly in place, offering greetings as if he was leading a boardroom conference instead of sitting down to what had to be the most uncomfortable breakfast in history of the Game.  I managed a quiet 'good morning' but didn't make eye contact with anyone.  Uma and Lachlan had already ordered, no doubt because we'd been late.  That fact only made me more self conscious than I already was.    

In Uma's company, I felt embarrassed and gauche next to her artless sophistication.  She was chattering nervously, more than making up for my stilted silence.  Lachlan said less than I did, if that's even possible.  I spent most of my time with my head down, staring at my hands in my lap and wishing I was somewhere, anywhere else.  And it only got worse when the waiter came to take our order.     

Without even thinking, Terry looked up from his menu and said, "I'll have the New York steak and eggs, and the lady will have the scones with clotted cream and coffee." 

He seemed to realize what he'd done the second the words left his mouth and his lips pursed.  He was terse as he finished telling the waiter how he wanted his steak and eggs.  He'd been ordering the same breakfast for me for four mornings and he'd done it out of habit, but it was quite revealing about the level of intimacy we'd shared and it did not go unnoticed by either Uma or Lachlan.  I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me.  I couldn't even bear to look at Uma.       

Lachlan, who'd seemed distracted since we sat down, turned and caught the waiter's eye.  "And we'll have another pot of tea, thanks." 

Terry, who'd been handing over his menu, didn't even pause as he got the waiter's attention and inclined his head toward Uma.  "She's got coffee, mate, not tea.  Better bring some of that as well."

To his credit, the waiter didn't bat an eye, but color rose on Lachlan's cheeks.  I felt so sorry for him, being shown up like that.  What Uma was drinking was probably the last thing on his mind.  And I knew Terry well enough to know his comment hadn't been entirely innocent.  He'd never be so crude as to come out and say 'she's mine, mate, back off' but there was a fair amount of posturing going on.  I had the sudden, burning desire to kick Terry under the table for being such an ass.  Uma moved oddly, covering it up by reaching for the sugar, but I caught Terry's soft grunt and saw his eyes dart to Uma.

I could have kissed her!  From my mind to her foot.  Serves him right, too.  I met Uma's eyes over the table and even though the moment was strained, we shared a look of camaraderie, a sisterhood born of suffering boorish male behavior.  A small smile touched my mouth but it quickly faded.  Despite the annoyance in her swift retribution, there was affection too.  I know they belonged together but my heart ached terribly watching the two of them.  Even in this strained atmosphere, their deep affection resonated visibly and although I had no designs on Terry, I still felt the hot stick of tears behind my eyes. 

I wondered how Lachlan felt.  I'd read the diaries.  I knew of the depth of his feelings for Uma.  I wondered if he was having as hard a time letting go as I was.  For as difficult a situation as this was for all of us, the truth of the matter was when it was over, Terry and Uma would reunite and Lachlan and I would be left behind, alone.  Like always.   

Under my lashes, I studied him.  Before, in the suite, I really hadn't been in any sort of frame of mind to notice much of anything beyond my own extreme discomfort.  I'd looked at him, but I hadn't really seen him.  Not until now.  He looked older than I remembered from his film.  Bigger.  It surprised me a little but it shouldn't have, really.  It'd been more than three years.  His frame had filled out, done that thing that happens to a man in his late twenties when his body goes from looking like East to looking more like Bud.  His hair was a little longer than I remembered too, and no longer tamed in that old-fashioned style.  He looked tired....and about as miserable as I felt.       

I was grateful when the food came, simply because it gave us all something to focus on, other than each other.  I hardly touched my plate.  I pushed the food around a bit, but couldn't bring myself to do more than take a few sips of my coffee.  I know Terry meant well, but it was just too much.  I wanted to make my peace with Uma, but I knew it'd never happen with Terry sitting right there.  That was simply too hard.  And sitting in Lachlan's presence only made me think about all the things I desperately wanted but knew I'd never have.  Not now.  Not after this morning. 

The tears that had been burning at the back of my eyes threatened to spill over and I quietly excused myself before they could.

TERRY

It was not the most pleasant breakfast I have ever spent. Heather was quiet and subdued, Uma was babbling nonsense- a sure sign that she was upset- and Lachlan was awkward and touchy, although he didn't say much. I tried to keep the mood light but whatever I said seemed to annoy someone. Tough shit. Wasn't my bloody fault.

It isn't as if I'm being insensitive but- what did we do wrong? I could see the look in Tink's eyes- she was like a little kid with a cut knee who is trying to be brave but is actually making a song and dance about it. She can't help it. Every emotion that crosses her mind also dances right over her face at the same time. I know how she feels. Every time I look at Flyboy, I wonder...Jesus...how come your mind runs on where you don't want it to go?  And what was that bloody stupid name he called her when he asked her for a spoon? Betty fucking Boop? Who the fuck is that?

They weren't sitting close- even that rang warning bells for me -trying to look like they hadn't just...he reached across the table for milk and I saw his right hand. I imagined it touching her...it was a relief when she excused herself, saying she needed to shower and change.

"I'll meet you in the lobby when you're ready..." She nodded, eased past him and I saw her hand lightly touch his shoulder as she took her leave, their eyes meeting for an instant. A look of understanding and private knowledge passed between them. A dart of jealousy twisted in my gut. I had no right to feel like that. But still I did. She stood behind him and looked at me, smiled and pouted a kiss. I winked and watched her leave; unconsciously admiring her straight-backed walk and the way she held her head, throwing out a challenge to the world but silently crying inside. A lump formed in my throat as I followed her with my eyes until she disappeared. I love that woman. Is it a simple as that? 

I returned to my breakfast- well, I was hungry, was that a crime?- I noticed the other plates, hardly touched. Curry and I didn't talk; he was drinking tea like he had a major thirst on him but his eyes were glinting. Something was up his arse all right and I suppose it was me. His problem. He was the only one not really affected in theory by this morning's little performance. In practice, however, his body language suggested quite the opposite. Looked like he was carrying a torch for Tink...or maybe he'd got the hots for Heather? It was possible...she was a new Sister and that was bound to work on him. Suppose I'm definitely not the flavour of the month then. Jesus, I can do without this.

LACHLAN

Every time Thorne opened his mouth, I liked him less.  Even if, and that's a bloody big IF, one discounted what happened upstairs, what kind of man insists on sharing a meal with his wife and the girl he's just rooted?  Either his negotiation skills are better than I thought or he's the stupidest bloke alive.  Three guesses which one my money's on, mate.  And there was absolutely no mistaking the fact he'd been at her.  I might have done the same if she'd requested a visit from me and it was our last morning together, but I'd never be so unfeeling as to throw it in her number one's face.   

For as much as it wound me up, it had to have been a hundred times worse for Uma.  While the others studied their menus, I studied Uma.  She was a little pale, but beautiful as ever.  White jeans and a pale blue strappy top.  No bra.  Gorgeous breasts.  My mind wandered back to our earlier pash on the plane and I couldn't help but remember how they'd felt under my hands.  I looked up, caught Thorne's cool gaze and realized he'd just seen my lingering glance.  Bloody perfect.  It irritated me I'd been so distracted that I'd let him catch me looking. 

Put me off my game enough that I ordered without thinking and left Thorne the perfect opening to correct me.  I'm sure everyone appreciated his childish little display.  Like it really mattered what the hell she was drinking.  Correcting me didn't make her any more his.  It wasn't as if I didn't know damn well what she drank in the morning, how she liked it, and what she liked to do before we ever even got around drinking it. 

For Uma's sake, I just let the matter rest.  It was considerably easier to do after I heard Thorne grunt when she kicked his shin.  Even Heather smiled at that, God bless her.  First smile I'd seen on her and, mate, I liked it.  A lot.  Uma was nattering on like a magpie and while she and Thorne yammered on, I took advantage of the moment to look at Heather.  Upstairs, I'd been doing my damnedest to look at everything but her.  I felt no need to do that now.  I caught a flash of her eyes before she lowered her head again.  They were an unusual gray green color, a bit like mine, only several shades darker. 

The dark fall of her hair obscured most of her face from me and I found myself wondering if it felt as silky as it looked.  I know most men prefer blonds but me?  I prefer brunettes.  There's just something about the contrast between dark hair and light skin that really fires my blood.  She was beautiful, graceful and soft in that girl-next-door kind of way that gets a bloke right in the heart.  Even her dress seemed....I dunno... soft, I guess.  It was a pretty summery frock somewhere between green and gray, like the herbs my Mum grew in her garden when I was a lad.  Made her seem fresh, young. 

She moved then, tucking her hair behind her ear and that's when I noticed the slight flush on her skin... and the touch of whisker burn at the hollow of her throat.  Bloody hell.  Without really meaning to, I rubbed my own face and noted I was in need of a shave.  My mind made the leap almost instantly.  I flashed on the image of my face rubbing on her naked body.  Jesus.  I choked it down, grabbed the tea, poured myself a cup and tossed it back, all the while wishing it was something stronger.

This was intolerable.  The arrival of the food was a welcome distraction, but I was in no mood to eat.  It seemed Heather wasn't either.  She was playing with her food, not eating it.  I watched her push it about and realized I was staring at her hands.  It was difficult not to think about where they'd probably just been.  Fucking Thorne.  I didn't want to imagine where they'd been.  I only wanted to imagine them touching me. 

Pushing that thought aside, I tried to catch her eye but she didn't raise her head.  I spared Captain Wonderful a glance.  Bloody bastard.  Some negotiator he must be.  Heather hadn't said ten words since she came to the table and Uma hadn't said ten that made sense.  Every time he opened his mouth Uma blanched and Heather seemed to get more and more still. 

Well, breakfast was a bust.  Big shock there, mate.  I reckoned there was bugger all anyone could do about it now though.  I passed the time wondering what it would have been like had I gotten the chance to have a proper breakfast with Heather.  Say, if this meeting had been our first and I hadn't embarrassed the piss out of everyone by walking in on her.  How different things would have been if it was just the two of us.  And, mate, if she'd asked me for a visit, you can be dead certain I'd have not buggered up the scheduling.  I'd have swept her off her feet.  Chatted her up over breakfast....

So, love, plans for the day?  Fancy a walk in the Manilian outback?  It's a right jungle out there, you know.  Reckon you'd need a proper guide.  I'm a fair hand at navigating, in the air, on the ground....  (round a woman's body but I don't reckon I'd share that, even if it is true.)  Gorgeous girl like you?  Needs a good bloke about.  Keep you safe.  Show you a good time.  Whaddaya say, love?   We could-

My internal musings were cut off abruptly as Heather quietly excused herself.  Caught me off guard.  Thorne sat there like a bloody lump.  Just the kind of thing I'd expect from him, no bloody courtesy at all.  I stood.  One doesn't let a woman like that walk away from the table without showing the proper respect, but in my haste to stand, I bumped the table.  Just fucking perfect.  I felt all of about fifteen, when I was all hands and legs and cock and clumsy no matter how hard I tried. 

"Thanks, mate."  Thorne pulled a face and made a show of steadying his cup and shaking the tea from his fingers. 

I sat with a snort.  "Get stuffed..."  I saw Uma's eyes pleading with me to settle down and I cut myself off, finishing the rest in my head.  ...you fucking nancy.  I had half a mind to take the teapot and pour its scalding contents into his bloody lap.  He couldn't flaming well root his way through all the Sisters with his dick half scalded.  That thought brought a perverse smile to my lips.  I'm sure Uma knew what I was thinking.  That girl's mind has a wicked bent. 

Not long after, Uma excused herself as well.  Thorne shot me a look.  "Don't bother to get up, mate."  I might have actually risen to the challenge in his voice, were it not for one thing.  As Uma turned to go, she put her hand on my shoulder and our eyes met.  Thorne was suddenly forgotten as a moment of sweetness passed between us.  Fond memories.  Remembered intimacies.  Acknowledgement of my deep affection for her.  Acknowledgement that we did not get to share a goodbye. 

Unfinished business.  Looks like Terry isn't the only one with claim to that.  

I was feeling pretty smug until I saw his face as she walked away and I came back to earth with a thump.  He was in love... and she was his girl.  I grit my teeth and poured myself another cuppa while Thorne tucked into his food.  I don't think we said ten words to each other after they left.  Pass the milk... pass the salt... Go fuck yourself.  

He ate like a starving man.  Pissed me off a bit because I knew why.  I get that hungry too after a good, hard root.  I thought about how hungry a good session can make a bloke and how the wanting of one can kill your appetite dead.  I pushed my full plate away and rubbed my hand over my face.  God, I was rooted.  I needed a kip.  I hadn't had a good one in what?  Twenty hours now?  Twenty-five?  Between the flying and the scotch I'd tossed back on an empty stomach and this whole situation... it was little wonder I was on my last nerve.  Still, knowing all that didn't change the fact that Thorne was getting on my tits. 

He tossed down his napkin and called for the check.  My jaw clenched.  Jesus, did he have to make a pissing contest out of everything?  As the first man at the table, that was my responsibility.  I reached for it but he went ahead and signed it anyway, tossing out, "I'll get that, mate... expenses..." as he did so. 

Expenses my arse.  Does he think he can buy everyone with his bloody bank balance?  My mind jumped to the pearls Heather had taken off earlier and I felt a spike of rage as Uma's call girl comment came flooding back.  I felt my hands ball into fists.   

Thorne stood.  "So....that's me, then.  Get some sleep... some of us still have a day's work to do..." and then he sauntered off towards the men's room. 

That's it then?  I don't bloody think so, mate.  Everyone was trying to put a nice face on this whole fucking situation and it just wasn't working for me.  Bottom line?  In the space of an hour, Thorne fucked one woman and left her - very publicly - for another.  Heather was all but crying when she left.  Fuck that fucking arrogant fucking bastard.  To hell with this shit.  The rest of them could pretend as much as they bloody well wanted.  I'd had enough of it.  I got up and stormed after him, intending to make that fact as clear as fucking crystal. 

TERRY

I knew he was following me, the old familiar tactic - The Men's Room fight. Hand on my arm: "Hey, I want a word with you, mate..."

Pulling away, my arms raised in that 'Cool it, mate,' gesture, I walked over to the urinals, unzipped and pointed Percy at the porcelain. "Yeah... we need to talk about a few things. Like the flight schedule. You need 24 downtime and then you can get Heather back to the States..."

He was standing by me but he wasn't in a mood to share a friendly piss. His eyes wandered; I guessed the train of thoughts in his head. Poor bastard. Time to wind him up.

"You make a habit of wandering in and watching, mate, you're gonna get yourself a rep...or a fucking black eye..." I shook and zipped up, turning back to him with a self- satisfied smile. He bit.

"Fuck off, you smug bastard. And you can shove that bloody jet up your arse, too, mate. I resign." He was standing, hands on his hips, and you could almost see the smoke.

"Steady on, Curry...stop playing the tragedy queen. I don't accept the resignation. You need to think about it and then put it in writing- without any colourful suggestions about my arse." I went and washed my hands but I could see him pacing through the mirror.

"I don't like you or the way you operate, Thorne. You're a slimy bastard. You think you can have any woman you like and then you mess them about like they were yesterday's news. You don't deserve those two..."

I gave him a look - 'the look' as Tink would call it. He was beginning to get right up my nose.

I laughed. "Take the fucking stick out of your own arse, Curry, and stop thinking with your dick. You want a woman...go get her. It's not my fucking business." He glared at me and looked about to take a swing. "Well...what's it to be? You work for me or do you get the bus home, son? Or should we just whip our dicks out here and see for ourselves if you measure up to me?"

Sweet as a biscuit, he took a halfhearted swipe and I stepped back. "I'll give you that one because you're upset and tired. But, mate, think good and hard before you do that again - because if you try and take me, it'll be the last thinking you do for a while. You got that?"

We did the usual staring, like two mad bulls, but I knew he wasn't going for it. He's no fool but he's no coward either. He didn't back down because he was afraid of me; he was unsure why he was even attacking me in the first place. His brain was working and I could see he was angrier with himself than me. He'd get over it. He's a good bloke. And I think he's about to fall in love.

I stepped away and walked out, leaving him to it.

LACHLAN

Fuck.  Fuckfuckfuck.  Mad at Thorne.  Mad at myself.  Mad at the whole fucking situation.  I knew half my problem was that I was beyond rooted... the lack of sleep, the long flight, the time change, the fucking scotch....and even as I swung at him, I knew that wasn't what I really wanted.  I'm not that big a bastard.  And I recognize a wind up when I hear one.  It's just.....Jesus, I was splitting out of my skin.  I needed a fight.  Or a fuck... and as Thorne had both women and I had none, I didn't see that happening in the near future.

I was burning it with.  Frustration.  Anger.  Jealousy.  Rage.  Lust.  Fuck the Game and its rules.  They can't tell me how to feel.  I'm so fucking tired of everyone telling me how to feel.  Chin up.  Be the good lad.  Look but don't touch.  Sit there and do nothing while you leave some arsehole to fuck the sweetest girl you've seen in ages... only to watch him sashay off with the girl you're all but arse over tit for when he's bloody well finished.

I don't know how the hell I made it back to my room.  I don't even remember walking there.  I just remember feeling so wound up I couldn't keep still.  Breathing hard.  Body shaking with unspent emotion.  I took a swing at the air just because if I kept the wildness in check a moment longer something inside me was going to tear, I knew it.  I pictured Thorne's face and swung again.  Harder.  Wider.  Near to panting with it now.  Swung again and clipped the wall.  Fuck!  My knuckles burned and stung and I welcomed the pain, feeding off it, feeling myself get more and more out of control. 

Crash and burn, mate.  I was rocketing toward the ground and I absolutely did not care.  The bigger crater the better, far as I'm concerned.  I tore off my clothes and flung them from me as I stormed into the loo and flicked on the shower, licking the blood from my knuckles while I waited for it to warm.  I thought of the last shower I had.  It was with Uma.  Cracked one hell of a fat at that memory. 

Jesus.  Maybe it's better I was alone.  Nobody can be happy-go-lucky all the fucking time, mate.  Lucky, lucky, lucky... Christ, what a joke.  I wasn't lucky and I sure as fuck wasn't in the mood to be nice.  I leaned back against the wall of the shower and let the water wash over me.  Thought of Uma.  Knew she'd be fucking Thorne before the day was out.  That wound me up even more.  I closed my eyes and saw Heather's face.  I pushed it away and reached for another, more familiar image.

Uma's face.  Her dark head bent between my legs, sucking me off.  Telling me how much she loved to love my cock.  My hands in her hair... and then it became darker, longer and it was Heather's face looking up from between my legs.  Holding my eyes and flicking me with her tongue while I watched my cock slide in and out.  Watched her sweet mouth get redder and wetter and-  Christ....   

I groaned aloud.  The ache between my legs was unbearable.  Hot and tight and heavy.  I cupped my balls, willing the pressure to ease and then stroked myself, eyes closed, breathing hard.  Interchanging Uma and Heather in my mind until I hit upon the image I'd walked in on this morning.  I shuddered hard at that memory, gooseflesh rising even under the scalding spray.  Jesus.  I didn't need any fucking fantasy to conjure that image.  I'd seen a flash of Heather's body before he jerked that bloody shirt closed.  The color of her nipples was burned into my brain.  I willed the image to return, only this time it was my suite and my shirt and my fucking lap she was on.  Except in my version, I ripped the shirt from her, cleared the table with one swipe and threw her down on it...           

I grunted and thrust hard into my closed fist, arching away from the shower wall.  That dark feeling was moving in my chest.  Growing.  I almost never feel this way but I know enough to give in to it when I do.  Fuck hearts and flowers and pretty words.  Sometimes a bloke needs it down and dirty.  I slammed off the water, left the bathroom and flung myself on the bed, wet body and all.  Never once even took my hand off my cock.  I just lay back, spread my legs and got to it.

I worked myself roughly as the images came faster.  Heather in my bed.  On her back.  Legs spread wide around my hips.  My arm under her back, hand wrapped around her shoulder pulling myself into her.  Hard.  That soft voice of hers, raw with need, panting against my throat.  Her sweet cunt wrapping me up so tight. 

The scene shifted.  My old room at the Temple.  Pushing her up against the wall, kissing her so hard she ached for it.  I wouldn't need any goddamn cinnamon to make her burn for me.  I fucking know I wouldn't.  I'd make her want it so bad she begged me to fuck her.  Taking her hard against the wall, so pink and wet and tight.  Seeing my come trickle down her leg after.  Fuck... oh, fuck...  

The floor of this room.  Hands and knees.  Holding her down.  Taking her from behind so she can't fight back.  Pushing her fucking legs apart.  Because I'm bigger.  Stronger.  Because I can.  Because she fucking wants it.  Being the animal I want to be for her.  Making her be the animal I want her to be for me.  Biting her so hard she screams out her pleasure as she comes on my cock... 

I'm tense and sweaty.  My fucking cock hurts.  Can't stop.  Can't fucking breathe.  Spitting in my hand with a stream of obscenities and stroking rough and hard now.  Close, so close... 

Back to the suite.  Back to where it started.  Hazy.  Heather in my shirt again....on her back for me.  I want to see her face.  Terry watching me fuck her.  Watching me make her mine.  Hand in her hair pulling hard, thrusting deep, wanting to make her come.  Wanting him to see her come for me.  Fuck him.  Fucking her.  Her cry breaking on my name.  My name.  Her hands around my waist, holding me deep.  My face buried in her throat, my cock in her cunt.  Coming so hard the fucking world goes white.  Long wet pulses that feel so good my eyes water. 

Slump down hard on her.  She doesn't push me away and she doesn't look at him.  Not once.  I pull out and wipe my cock on the shirttail.....and suddenly, it's not the shirttail.  It's the fucking sheet....

My heart's near to pounding out of my chest and I'm panting and sweaty.  My hand's wet.  So's my chest and the sheet too.  I'm too rooted to even care.  Slumped back against the pillows, I've just enough energy to wipe my hand on the sheet and roll over before the blissful darkness takes me. 

UMA

Terry was sitting in the lobby, reading the Herald Tribune. Walking over across the huge atrium, I watched him from a distance; he was reading with his concentrated expression, a half frown, his lips set in that serious pucker that often intimidates people. I think he does it to keep the world at bay. I think it works.

Slipping onto the couch next to him, I rested my head on his arm; he folded the newspaper and flung it from him, rotating to face me. His tongue rested on his lower lip as he contemplated me. My eyes met his and we both sat there in silence for a moment. "How are you, baby?" A soft smile and his eyes searching and warm.

I shrugged. "OK. A bit embarrassed, a bit hurt...the usual. But nothing I can't get over in the greater scheme of things. It's just ...I guess I'll never quite get used to seeing you with another woman, no matter how hard I try."

Terry rolled his eyes. "That was hardly a sight you were expected to see. I know it hurt. It hurts me to think of you and him- human nature, love. Even with the effects of the Brotherhood and the pull of the Sisters...men and women are by their very nature possessive. I'm sorry you had to see it. I think we should get out and take a ride. Can't face the suite at the moment... I won't take you there...I'm arranging a new one..."

Who can ever blame a man with those sensibilities? Not me, that's for sure. He stood up and held out his hand for me to take and I stepped to my feet. In an impulsive moment I flung my arms around him and he held me close. Then he set me back down and we strode through the large entrance hall side by side. He walks quickly and moves fast; I had to skip a little to catch up with him- he looked over and grinned. I know he does it on purpose. It's a little joke we have. I accuse him of walking around with a theme tune in his head when he walks that walk. I started to sing the Rocky theme under my breath and he shook his head.

"You're the one with the fantasy life, not me, sunshine."  We both grinned. It felt like old times.

I matched him stride for stride and we exited the air-conditioned splendour to the car waiting outside. I walked with my head held high, proud to be with him. The old feeling was coming back. But first, we needed to talk.