TODD and TÉA - PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY

by Tessaray


Chapter 2

Téa has been much cooler about this whole nothing thing than Todd would have imagined. He'd been holding his breath for days after that incident in his office, on guard against every glance and movement in case she might try to initiate something more or, God forbid, want to talk about it. But she's kept her distance, hasn't brought it up. Almost like it was no big deal, or she's relieved to have finally gotten that sex stuff out of her system…

Meanwhile, he can't stop thinking about her mouth, the things she did with it, how good it felt after so many years of nothing but his own hand. He wouldn't mind a bit more of that from time to time — a hot, spontaneous non-coital hook up, then a quick fade back to normal life like nothing happened. Because nothing can happen, nothing will happen… nothing real. Just keep it light and simple. Maybe that could work for them… if she can handle it…

He rubs his thumb over his fingers. His cock twitches at the memory of how wet she was… how wet he made her. He hadn't been sure he still had it in him, that he could still read cues, would know what to do. Her face had been hidden from him as he'd touched her; he's been trying to imagine it, but since he's never seen her in the throes of orgasm he can't conjure an image. It's probably for the best — keep it impersonal, just bodies doing what bodies do…

But the truth is, what happened in that office changed things. He's painfully aware of her now — how she bends to pick up her briefcase, the dip in her voice when she says his name, the way her hands dance as she speaks. He finds himself staring at her when she's unaware, but he's careful not to let her catch him, not to complicate things…

He could get her to his office again on some pretense. That would be the easiest solution to this mounting… pressure. He doesn't want to do anything at the penthouse — too intimate, too much like being married. And afterward, memories would be everywhere, inescapable…

"You look so intense, Todd. Calculating the crappiest possible tip?"

The Palace Restaurant comes to life around him, silverware clanking on china plates, muted conversation, low music, and Téa opposite him in that light blue skirt suit, dabbing her lips with a linen napkin. Her hair is up in a twist, her neck is long, arching…

Todd sits up, runs a hand over his face. Crumbs fall from his goatee and he sweeps them off the long, white tablecloth and onto the floor. He's half hard, jogs his knee under the table. He likes this table; she's on a banquette against the wall, he's in a chair opposite her, his back to the room. Ordinarily he'd hate that, feel vulnerable, but there's a mirror above her head that he uses to secretly keep an eye on what his enemies — both proven and potential — are up to…

"They can't make a decent Rueben in this joint to save their lives," he grumbles, shoving his chair back.

"Then why do you keep ordering it?"

"Hope springs eternal, Delgado. You know that."

She laughs lightly, folds her napkin and lays it next to her empty lunch plate. "You did eat your soup with a spoon instead of guzzling it right out of the bowl this time. That's a step in the right direction."

He notices her fingers — long, delicate, tipped with red — and sniffs, runs his tongue over his teeth, feels like he's crawling out of his skin.

"Why so jumpy, Todd?"

He abruptly gets up from his chair, moves around the table and drops down next to her on the banquette. She leans away warily and eyes him up and down.

"Todd…?"

The blonde server he's been torturing throughout lunch ventures over, opens her mouth to speak but he cuts her off.

"Coffee," he barks. "Fresh pot. None of that stale crap with grounds floating in it."

She moves off with a frozen, shell-shocked smile.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Téa demands.

"Nothing," he says, knee jogging again.

They're both facing out into the busy restaurant now. Without quite meaning to, he moves his hand under the tablecloth and lays it on her thigh. It's reckless and stupid, but he can't help himself.

She jerks her leg as though trying to shake off a humping dog. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he repeats, pointedly. "Nothing is happening. Understand?"

She glares at him a moment, then he sees comprehension dawn. Her eyes fly wide, dart around the room, and she laughs, stunned. "Here?"

"Here," he says, low and serious. "Right here." He slides his hand up her thigh, wishing for skin, but pantyhose are an annoying fact of modern life. He moves underneath her skirt, between her legs…

She flinches, clamps her thighs shut on his hand. "Todd," she says, a ferocious whisper, and eyes the other diners in a near panic. "It's too obvious."

"Really?" he drawls. "You want me to stop… now?"

She drags her eyes to his, bites her lip. He watches her intricate mind go to work, weighing, evaluating… before her expression goes smoky, with just a hint of mischief.

She parts her thighs.

His mouth is dry, heart pounding, but he manages to survey the dining room with his customary contempt… and slides his hand up her thigh until he finds her heat through thin layers of nylon and silk. He presses, begins to rub…

She whimpers, clears her throat as a busboy arrives and noisily stacks their empty plates. "Was everything to your liking?" he says brightly.

"Just fine," Téa says with a forced smile.

"Dandy," Todd growls. "Go away."

Téa draws a deep breath, picks up her big boxy purse from beside her and sets it on the table in front of them, angling it like a shield against prying eyes. She gracefully smooths her hair into place, lowers her hand… and Todd jumps, gulps back a yelp when she grabs his erection through his trousers.

"Hey! Cut it out," he hisses through the side of him mouth.

"What's good for the goose…," she replies.

He tries to edge away from her, but she's got him good and starts to massage. A sharp groan slips out before he can stifle it; he coughs to cover.

"Delgado!" he grunts through clenched teeth.

"Really?" she whispers, mimicking his own words and tone. "You want me to stop… now?"

He hesitates. She's pumping him slowly and it feels hot and incredible. He answers her question by subtly pushing himself up into her hand, notices her triumphant little smirk and retaliates by rubbing her so hard she bucks.

They look off in opposite directions then, nonchalantly scanning the room as their hands busy themselves down below. Nothing to see here… just two people waiting for their coffee…

She's damp, yielding, spreading her thighs wide. He presses deeper, frustrated that he can't sink his fingers inside her, has to content himself with finding the swollen spot in her now familiar contours and stroking, grinding as she tilts her hips for him…

Everything about this has him rock hard. Just a little bit of mutual lunchtime masturbation, right under the sneering noses of Llanview's finest, most self-righteous citizens. Oh, and look, there's nephew Kevin, strolling in with Cassie on his arm. Todd snickers evilly, points them out to Téa with his free hand while stroking her mercilessly under the table with the other.

She jerks and stiffens with a helpless sound that makes his cock leap. He's careful to keep his arm still, only move his fingers, trying to be as cool as she is… and God, is she cool. You'd never know from her relaxed upper body and slightly bored expression that she's on the verge of orgasm, that her hand is working him through his trousers like a pro. She's made for this kind of shit.

The thought tightens his balls, forces a low grunt. He's close, should stop her before he makes a mess, but that's why suit jackets have buttons. His face is hot, probably flushed, a bit of perspiration on his brow. He'd mop it with a napkin, but his other hand is busy clutching the edge of the banquette, nails digging in…

Servers in starched white aprons and busboys with trays glide past them, but no one spares them a glance. Téa is straining, making little rhythmic breath sounds… higher and tighter, and when she suddenly goes rigid and bites her lip, eyelids fluttering, it's so arousing to him that he makes more noise than she does — a growl deep in his throat. Still in the throes, she grips his cock like a vise, gives him a few final, ruthless tugs and as his hips jerk with the power of his own orgasm, he has to stifle a shout that would have had every eye in the room on him...

It takes a few moments to come down, to regroup and focus. He drags his hand from under her skirt, rests it heavily on her knee before raising it and stroking his goatee to get the scent of her. She watches, a blush blooming in her cheeks, and gives him a private half-smile as she slides her trembling hand from his lap. She straightens her posture, draws her composure around herself like a shawl, lifts the purse from the table and sets it beside her on the banquette again.

The blonde server appears, coffee sloshing as she timidly sets the full cups before them, arranges sugar, cream, teaspoons…

Todd becomes aware of wet heat on his groin, shifts uncomfortably, leans back and scowls at her. "What the hell took you so long."

"Now be nice, we're not in a rush," Téa says, eyeing him with playful heat. "Sometimes it's good to just sit and do... nothing. Isn't it, Todd?"

"Whatever," he grumbles, reminds himself to button his jacket before wending his way through this roomful of vipers… and he bites back a smile.

To be continued...