A Touch of TLC

by Trisha

He's a beautiful man, but he's doing his best to hide it from the casual observer. He sits hunched inside an unflattering dark grey raincoat, nursing what looks to be the latest in a long line of drinks.

The pub is packed, but no one has joined him in his booth. It's all about body language, and aura. Everything about this man says 'stay the fuck away', so everyone does.

I've been told I give off a little body language of my own, and I must admit it's true; I can be a little intimidating at times, but I don't want to be tonight. What I want is to get lucky!

I sit down in the booth and watch as his eyes come up to look at me. They take the scenic route, but I don't mind. He has the most spectacular lashes, long and thick. I'd kill for lashes like that, they'd save me a fortune in mascara. His lashes are just an appetizer though, his eyes are breathtaking, even when they're as bloodshot as they are now.

I see a spark of recognition, tilt my head in consideration, and give him a smile. "Hello Terry."

There's a slight frown as he struggles to place a name to me. "Rach."

It was Rachel really. Everyone calls me Rach these days. I like the way Terry says it, his voice is a rumbling baritone that sends shivers to my naughty bits.

"Where's your appendage?" I ask him. Years of 'never did, but could've' history between me and the infamous Dino.

"Wheeling and dealing, meeting him for dinner."

I frown and check my watch. "When?"

"Eight thirty."

"You're ninety minutes late."

"Fuck."

"You better phone him."

A hand, surprisingly well shaped for such a big man, dips into the pocket of his raincoat and pulls out a small phone. He fumbles with it a while, even giving it a shake, before handing it to me. "Help me out here Rach love, think I'm pissed."

I raise an eyebrow at him, giving him a smile before taking the offered phone. It's turned off. I turn it on and pull up Dino's number. He answers straight away.

"Terry where the fuck are you? Didn't you get my messages..."

"It's Rach, Dino. Terry's here."

"Where?"

"The 'Mucky Duck'." Slang for every pub called the 'White Swan' the length and breadth of England, but Dino knows which one I mean.

"Is he pissed?"

"Looks well on his way."

"Shit, put him on."

The conversation is decidedly one sided, with just a couple of 'yeah, yeah's' from Terry, and ending on "Sorry mate." At which point he hands back the phone. "Dino," he says, as though I don't know.

"Hey," I say, for the want of anything else.

"Do me a favor Rach, get him back to his hotel suite and sorted out. I can't leave here right now."

"Easier said than done."

"He likes you. Turn those lovely big blue eyes of yours on him and he'll be putty in your hands."

"Spare me the Irish/Italian charm."

"You love me really. Seriously Rach, please. He needs a bit of TLC."

Charm the birds from the trees if he had a mind that man. "I'll see what I can do," I tell him. "You owe me."

"I know."

He does owe me. Three letters had wiped all notions of the seduction of Terry Thorne from my oh too female brain; TLC. He might as well have said cuddle the puppy.

I hand Terry back his phone. "How about we get you home Terry, what do you think?"

"Home?"

You know, come to think of it, I don't have any clue where Terry calls home. "Where are you staying?"

"Hotel."

I give him an enthusiastic nod. "Good idea, let's leave this dump and go there."

He stares at me in that maximum concentration way that all drunks have perfected to an art-form. I'm not privy to what the hell he's thinking, but I can just about see the cogs and gears working. I wait for something profound to leave those incredibly snogable lips.

"Le'ss dump this place Rach love," he suggests, rising slowly to his feet. He sways for a sec', then seems to find his sea legs, and sets off for the exit. I grab up his brief case and laptop and hightail it after him.

The cold night air must have hit him like a fist, because when I catch up with him he's leant up against the wall of the pub looking none too clever.

"Are you going to be okay Terry?"

"No more drinks love," he tells me, running an unsteady hand through his thick hair. "Lets get a cab, go home eh?"

Now there's an original idea! I stroll to the curb side and flag down the first taxi I see, dragging Terry in with me when it pulls up.

"Where to love?" The driver asks as my shoulder makes a landing field for Terry's head. Great, so much for taking him to his hotel! "Where do you want to be?" the driver asks again.

I sigh and give him the address.

"You serious?"

"'Fraid so."

"You got the readies on you love, I don't take cheques or cards?"

"I'm good for it," I assure him, knowing the fair will be the price of a second mortgage.

"What about your fella, not gonna be sick in my cab is he?"

I crane my neck to get a look at Terry's face. "Don't think so, but if he is I'll sweeten it with another fifty, how's that?" I'm generosity personified when I know it will eventually come out of Dino's pocket.

"All right then, but if you can't cover the fair...."

I give a sigh and reach into my bag, ferreting around for my wallet I pull out fifty quid. "A deposit," I tell him, handing it over. "Now, can we go?"

After suitable scrutiny is made for forged Ladies the cabbie gives me a smile, "No problem ducks, have you there in no time."

We actually make pretty good time. The roads are quiet, the cabby is good, and Terry sleeps like a baby, his head hot and heavy on my shoulder. I start to rouse him as we approach home.

"Hey Terry, come on, wake up. We're here." It takes a bit of cajoling and a few shakes, but he comes 'round, sits up.

"Where are we?"

"Home." Well it is for me.

"I feel like shit."

"Well just don't be sick in this nice man's cab, save it for the flower beds."

It gets a laugh from the cabby at least. I settle up with him, handing over what amounts to a down payment on the guys yacht, while Terry hauls himself out of the taxi and stands in the middle of my driveway, swaying in a nonexistent breeze.

"I don't live here," he tells me, as I go to stand beside him.

"I know sweetie. I was hoping you'd let me in on where you were staying, but you conked out in the cab. This is where I live."

He nods. "Sorry Rach'."

"Not to worry," I tell him. "Let's get you to bed eh?" There should be maniacal laughter from somewhere at this point. Getting Terry Thorne into my bed has been the stuff of some of my more vivid and erotic fantasies for quite some time. Of course in those he carries me inside, and up to bed, in his arms. Oh and he's bare arsed naked, of course. He doesn't rest his forehead against the wall, fighting back the urge to vomit, as I struggle to unlock the door.

Get a grip woman, the man needs help.

I unlock the door eventually, pull Terry in behind me, dump all our stuff, and just make it to the box in time to punch in the alarm code. I'm quietly pleased to have the man of my dreams here, but don't want it announced to the neighbors at this time of night.

I relock the door, reset the alarm, grab the gear off the floor, and look around for Terry. Where the hell's he gone?

Luckily he's left a trail for me to follow, trench coat, suit jacket, tie, shirt.. I collect them up as I follow in his wake. The trousers are in the doorway of my bedroom, and I find him then, laid on top of my bed, dead to the world. His bare arse is everything I ever thought it would be, and the sight of him takes my breath away, despite the fact that he's still in his socks, and his undies hang from one ankle.

He gives out a deep, rumbling snore and I shake my head.

"Night, night Terry." I dump his clothes on the chair from which I rescue my emergency nightie, and head for the bathroom.

I'm about to settle down for the night on the sofa when my own mobile chirps cheesy Mozart at me.

"Hello?"

"It's Dino babe, how's it going?"

"Okay. We're at my place, he's passed-out on top of my bed."

"I owe you big time for this."

"Too bloody true you do."

"I'll swing by and collect him tomorrow, call me in the morning, let me know when, okay?"

"Okey doke," I yawn. "Want to tell me what the problem is?"

"Unrequited love, what else is there? Goodnight Rach'."

"Night Dino."

I wake to daylight, or something approaching it, and check the clock. It's 5am and the bathroom beckons. I'm famously not at my best in the morning. Through eyes that I refuse to open entirely, I risk a glance out of the windows, en route back to my bed and see a ribbon of mist threading it's way through the valley below. The beauty of it wars with the beauty of a warm, soft bed, and the bed wins.

The bed feels wonderful, still warm and snugly and I burrow my way beneath the covers, and doze off again.

I wake feeling hot, very hot, and with no feeling whatsoever in my jellied right leg. A lesser woman might have panicked, I would have panicked myself, but for the hot, incredibly talented, mouth that is currently lavishing attention on my right nipple, and sending messages of joy jangling down to my naughty bits.

It isn't until the weight of an incredibly heavy body lifts off my jelly leg to settle between them, kick starting my circulation with a shock of pins and needles, that my brain kicks in, probably due to the increase in blood flow.

"Terry!" I'd climbed into bed with Terry instead of going back to the sofa last night, bloody hell!

The sight of those blue green eyes smiling up at me just about stops my heart. They aren't blurry and confused now, they're bright, sexy, and full of mischief.

"Mornin' Rach love." The deep rumble of his voice sends vibrations through his chest and into my belly, where his naked body presses against... Wait a minute!

"Where's my bloody nightshirt?"

He gives my incredibly naked chest the most lascivious grin I've ever seen, and then waggles his eyebrows at me. "Not here that's for sure, hang on, let me have a look for you." He begins to scoot down under the quilt.

"No!" I scream at him. "Terry I'm naked, get out of there!"

He comes back up, pausing only when something that definitely isn't a hand prods precisely where it shouldn't.

"Yeah well, fairs fair love after all."

"What the hell are you saying?" Has he undressed me? "You don't mean that you... Terry Thorne you, you bastard, you..." I pummel at his gorgeous shoulders with enthusiastic if ineffective fists.

All he does is laugh. "Keep yer' hair on Rach, nothing happened. I was lying here at about five o'clock this morning, wondering where the fuck I was and how I'd gotten here, when the bedroom door opened and in you walked. You must have still been half asleep 'cos you pulled off your nightie, got in beside me, rolled over and was out for the count."

"Oh!" That at least sounds plausible, I hate sleeping in anything other than skin, the nightie is for fires and early parcel deliveries.

"For a minute there I thought every fantasy I'd ever had about you was about to come true." The mischief has gone from the eyes, replaced by something that is both sincere and hopeful.

Terry Thorne has fantasies about me.

"Trouble is Rach, me being an Aussie, I like the heat, and you being a pomme, and a woman to boot, you nicked all the bloody covers. When I woke up again I was in the only warm place, right on top of you, and I could see you were stirring, so..."

"You thought you'd wind me up a bit did you?"

He frowns at me, and with only a day’s worth of stubble still manages to look like an adorable Teddy Bear. "I'm guessing it wasn't one of my best moves."

I nod, "You might say that."

"And me just lying here like this..."

"Not helping your case at all."

"So if I move and keep my eyes closed while you get your nightie?"

"How's that supposed to help? You've already seen me naked," I point out with a lascivious smile of my own.

The eyebrows go up, the penny drops, and he grins like a schoolboy.

HOME