Tigers & Devils (12 page)

“I don’t think you’ve formally introduced us,” Declan said. I liked how he bent down to pet her while still keeping one arm around me.

“Maggie, meet Declan,” I said, although Maggie was now too enraptured with her new find to care anything about me and what I might have been saying.

“Hey, Maggie,” Declan cooed. He instantly found her weak spot, scratching behind her left ear. She was now his for life, although he was momentarily in her bad books for letting her go and turning his attention back to me. “So, did you call her that because it was close to ‘moggie’?”

I bit the inside of my lip, knowing he was about to give me shit. “No, she’s actually named after a character from George Eliot’s
The Mill on the Floss
.”

Declan smothered his laughter.

“Oh go on, give it to me.”

“Do you know what my family’s cat is called and why?”

“No idea.”

“Socks. Because it looks like it has socks on its feet.”

“So I named my cat after a literary character. Is that so bad?”

“No, it’s just something I like about you.”

“Pretension?” I asked grumpily.

“That’s not the way I would put it. Stop being so defensive.”

There was nothing negative in his tone of voice, so for once in my life I listened to somebody else. “It’s a good book. All about how we try to make our own free will, but sometimes catastrophes are thrown in front of us and our lives become determined by them.”

“It sounds heavy. Is there at least a happy ending?”

I winced. “Maggie drowns. Along with the brother she only recently reconciled with.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Declan laughed. “Let’s eat.”

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We moved into the kitchen, and Maggie followed, winding herself around Declan’s legs. He tripped and fell against me, and I grabbed him.

“So much for the reflexes of a professional footballer.”

He gave me a playful shove and bent down to scoop the cat up out of harm’s way. I added the stock mixture to the wok, and a satisfying cloud of steam erupted from it.

“Do you always cook?” Declan asked.

I shrugged. “I try to get out of it as much as I can. Living by myself, it’s mainly a diet of takeaway and toasted cheese sandwiches. Do you want a drink?”

“I brought beer,” Declan announced. He grinned when I looked at his empty hands again. “I left them in the car.”

“Stupid place for them,” I told him.

“I’ll be right back.”

He jogged back to the front door and disappeared outside. Maggie watched him go fretfully and looked back at me.

“You too, huh?” I asked her.

She replied in the affirmative by jumping from the stool Declan had placed her on and hovering over by the door watching for his return.

“Yep, you too,” I murmured, now throwing the tofu into the wok. Declan moved like a cat in more ways than one. I didn’t even hear his tread when he returned and placed a cold bottle of beer against my hand. I ran my thumb along the raised glass on the neck that formed a familiar image.

“Beer from your homestate, huh?”

He twisted the cap off his bottle and lobbed it perfectly into the bin. “Yep. Is it okay?”

“Nah, I like Cascade. Although probably more for the Tasmanian Tiger than anything else.”

Declan grinned. “Why aren’t I surprised?”

“Come on, you can tell me. Have you ever seen one while driving around late at night?” I twisted the cap and threw it towards the bin, and was pleased that I made it. It turned out, that like Roger, he could raise one eyebrow. “Have I seen an extinct animal in the suburbs of Hobart while driving in the dark?”

“
Supposedly
extinct,” I told him before taking a swig of the crisp malty goodness.

“No, I haven’t, but if you throw a stone in Hobart you’ll more than likely hit someone who will claim they have seen one.”

I reached behind me into the cupboard, pulling out two plates. “I think it’s possible they could still be out there. Aren’t there areas of wilderness that no human has stepped in?”

78 | SEAN KENNEDY

“Not around where I live,” Declan said dryly. “You might have to venture out a little further.”

“You’ve never wanted to do it?”

“I take it you would?”

I nodded and set down my beer so I could start serving up dinner. “Sure. Trekking into the hills, going further than most people ever have into the wilderness, and then being rewarded with one undeniable look at a thylacine in its natural habitat.”

Declan grinned knowingly. “And you would never tell. You would keep it a secret, because you know if you didn’t, even though it would bring you fame and fortune, especially if you had photographic evidence, that letting the world know would mean their refuge would be destroyed by people wanting to find out more about them. It would be best for you to just let that tiger fade back into the forest and remain a myth as it continues to survive and build its numbers.”

Damn. He had me pegged. “It would be the right thing to do.” And I was becoming uncomfortably aware that this conversation could be serving as an allegory for something else altogether.

Declan put his beer down and moved behind me. I was half-expecting a cuddle, but he took the plates of food off me and delivered them to the table. I fumbled in the cutlery drawer and produced two pairs of chopsticks. I grabbed our beers and joined him.

“What would you do?” I asked him.

He took a deep breath and sat down. He looked up at me and smiled. “Seeing as the last time we had anything to do with them, we wiped them out, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for anything like that happening with a new lot.” He reached for his beer. I clinked my bottle against his and smiled stupidly at him.

“What are we drinking to?” he asked.

“Whatever.”

“That’s specific. How about, wherever this takes us?”

We clinked the bottles together again and picked up the chopsticks to start eating. Declan handled his deftly, sending them out across his plate as if they were warriors seeking prey. Despite years of use, I still occasionally used mine as a spear rather than a utensil.

“This is really good,” Declan growled appreciatively.

“It’s not
that
good,” I said. “You don’t have to butter me up.”

He winked suggestively at me, and I quickly downed another mouthful of beer, which was thankfully beginning to work its magic upon me.

“This was exactly what I needed after training,” he continued. “They’re testing me out to see whether I can return to the field this week.”

“Do you think you will?”

“
I
think I can. But of course, I’ve been thinking that for the last month, and they still haven’t put me on.”

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I stabbed at a piece of tofu. “Well, they don’t want to damage the goods after getting you back.”

Declan shrugged. “I guess it’s always a problem, that line between what a player needs and what the coaches decide is best.”

I thought it was interesting, his use of the word
need
. In the normal world, a worker wishes to be put out of commission for a little while in order to enjoy a holiday away from the strain of the office; but to somebody like Declan, where work also happened to be his passion, he must have felt, and continued to feel, pretty close to bereft being kept away from it for so long.

His easygoing expression slipped a little as he drank his beer, thinking about the possibility that he might not get what he wanted —
needed
— next week. Then it was gone again, so fast that I wondered if I had imagined it.

“Are you still in any pain?” I asked.

He shook his head. “It’s a bit sore sometimes, but not painful. I think it’s rusting from inactivity more

“I doubt it’s inactive. I’ve seen you on the sports report.”

“Have you really?” He grinned at me.

“Hey, I can’t help it if your ugly mug pops up every time I’m trying to find out the lineup for Richmond’s next game.”

Declan laughed. “And here I was thinking you kind of liked my mug.”

I shrugged. “It’s okay. As mugs go.” I then laughed and stared down at my plate. There was the sound of movement underneath the table, and I felt his foot pressing up against mine. It was a comfortable weight.

“So’s yours.” Declan began eating again.

Wow. I was beginning to like hearing these sly compliments. I froze as Declan’s foot crept up underneath the cuff of the right leg of my pants. He had kicked off his sneaker, and I could feel the warmth of his stockinged foot against the hairs on my leg. He continued eating with an innocent expression on his face as his foot began stroking my leg. I tried to collect some vegetables between my chopsticks, but my aim was unsteady and a small pile of onion flew across the table to land close to Declan’s beer. He grinned, and his foot kept rubbing my calf.

I swallowed a mouthful of beer to steady my nerves and was disappointed when Declan’s foot withdrew. I tried to think of something to say to fill the sudden silence, when his foot was back against my skin. Except this time there was a difference. It was skin against skin. He had shucked his sock off, and I was now feeling the direct heat from his body transferring to mine. It was also having effects upon other areas of my body. He kept the foot in place. Enjoying the simple contact himself?

“So,” I said, trying not to let my voice crack.

Declan put his chopsticks down and looked at me expectantly.

“It’s Wednesday,” I said weakly.

80 | SEAN KENNEDY

He nodded, not giving anything away.

“You’re not playing until Friday.”

“Yep.” Funny how that one little word sounded so full of promise.

“So your superstition won’t be in effect until tomorrow.”

“No, I guess not.” There was a small smile playing upon his lips. I wanted to kiss it off him.

My curiosity got in the way of passion. “How does that work exactly? I mean, does the superstition kick in at midnight, or is it just in the general timeframe of the night before?”

He looked adorably confused at my sudden change of tone. “Uh, I don’t know. It’s just a superstition. There’s no logic to it.”

“But there must be a time frame, right?”

“I guess… probably just in the vicinity of the evening before and the day of the match.”

“Huh.” I sat back thoughtfully.

“Does that answer your question?”

I think it did, because the next thing I knew I had launched myself at him, and he was trapped in his chair as I squirmed up against him, gripping his face in my hands as I kissed him. His arms pulled me in closer, and I noticed how they strained against the material of his shirt. I was no lightweight, but I bet he could pick me up and throw me across the room like a javelin. I crouched over him like a cat with a mouse, but suddenly I was pulled onto his lap. That was more comfortable.

Our kisses grew more heated and desperate; dinner was forgotten. Well, we had almost finished anyway. Declan’s hand crept under my shirt and rested against the small of my back. While my mouth was still occupied with his, my brain stupidly went into overdrive as it realised that
this was it
. It was going to happen. And all those idiotic insecurities that normally came with any time two people are first intimate with each other came flooding over me. Especially with Declan. The guy was going to have an amazing body; he was surrounded by astounding specimens of masculinity every time he met with his colleagues, and mine could never compare. But then I saw him staring back at me. And saw that he wanted me. There was an unmistakable hunger in his eyes, and he was eyeing me appreciatively. I didn’t really understand it, and it didn’t settle my insecurities completely but I managed to get over that bump in the road.

Without speaking we rose as one and stumbled out of the dining room, through the lounge, and paused as Declan realised he didn’t know where the bedroom was. I took the initiative and pulled him with me, still clutching him. We sagged against the bookcase in my room; Declan’s hands were starting to pull my shirt up my body, but I pressed against him, inhibiting his actions. This time it had nothing to do with the insecurity of being naked before him. I was now desperate, close to the edge, and unable to hold on much longer. He gasped as I ground against him,

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searching for friction. I found it, and his gasp turned into a guttural moan as I locked into him and began getting us off.

“Simon…” he moaned, and I liked hearing my name said that way. I pulled his lower lip between my own and then released it to lick along the side of his neck. I let my mouth rest against the hollow of his throat; Declan threw his head back. His hands came to rest on my arse as he helped me continue to thrust against him. Declan swore to himself, his breathing becoming more hoarse. I raised my head again, I wanted to see his face when he came. He bit his lip, and closed his eyes; I kissed him, and they flew back open. His breath erupted from him in a hot rush into my mouth, and he sagged against me. I bucked against him slowly, letting him ride out his release. As he sighed contentedly and his breathing steadied, I kept eye contact with him and started thrusting again. He held me tighter, his eyes never off me until I cried out and fell against him. He continued to hold me, and his hands travelled up my back, rubbing softly. I buried my head in the crook of his neck as post-orgasmic bliss gave way quickly to
Oh fuck, what have I done?