Taming the Beast by Emily Maguire Page A

already gone from her frivolous and fickle little mind?
    ‘Bare minimum would be three times a week.’
    ‘Dinner ready yet, Shell?’ Jamie asked.
    ‘Yeah, should be. I’ll check.’ She smiled at him and he was relieved. She didn’t blame him for Sarah’s crudity; she thought they were in this together. He realised that they were, or that they should be, and felt horribly guilty.
    ‘What about married men? Men in steady, committed relationships? Do they still do it?’
    ‘Shit, yeah. Any man who reckons he doesn’t is lying through his teeth.’
    ‘I rest my case.’ Sarah nodded at Jess who smiled tightly.
    ‘And you, Sarah?’ Mike said.
    Jamie almost whimpered as the picture of Sarah touching herself appeared in his mind. It wasn’t a new picture; it was an old favourite. It was just that he normally had control over it, making it appear only when he was locked in the bathroom with the water running.
    ‘Well, you tell me,’ she said. ‘If you could have intense, bone shaking orgasms over and over and over with no time out to recover, how often would you be doing it?’
    Jamie walked out of the room. He stood in the hallway, his forehead against the wall, until his pulse slowed, his body relaxed. Then he went into the kitchen and asked Shelley if she needed any help.
    ‘Nope. All good here. I think you should stick close to Sarah. Stop her from embarrassing herself.’
    ‘She’s alright.’
    ‘According to you.’
    Jamie checked out in the hallway to make sure no one was around. He could hear Mike’s raucous laugh over the top of Sarah’s low one. ‘What does that mean?’
    ‘I don’t know, Jamie. You tell me how smart she is, how interesting or whatever, but I just… I don’t
get
her. She’s like a bloke.’
    Jamie smiled, thinking of Sarah’s hair, her laugh, the delicate feet which could fit in his hand. ‘How is she like a bloke?’
    ‘She’s… distant. She doesn’t reveal herself, you know? She just gets drunk and talks about sex. She doesn’t let anyone know her.’
    ‘When she gets drunk and talks about sex, she
is
revealing herself. That is her.’
    Shelley sighed. ‘That’s so sad.’
    Jamie wanted to argue, but he wasn’t sure he disagreed. He shrugged, grabbed another beer from the fridge and returned to the dining room, where Sarah was pouring another glass of bourbon and talking about sex.
    Sarah’s behaviour throughout dinner was above reproach. When Jess went on about the difficulties of keeping deli meats fresh in the storefront window, Sarah appeared to be listening to every word. She even asked questions, without a trace of sarcasm. Then Shelley talked about the savings plan they had started and how by the end of the year they would have a deposit on a proper house. Jamie cringed, expecting Sarah to be scathing, but she nodded seriously and discussed the benefits of fixed-term verus variable and whether it was better to buy new or to get a fixer-upper as long as it was in a nice suburb.
    After dinner they sat around the table drinking until all the punch was gone. Shelley offered to drive them all home since shewas the only one who hadn’t been drinking. Mike and Jess agreed, but Sarah refused to take the hint, saying she would stay and finish off the bourbon. Shelley rolled her eyes for only Jamie to see but did not argue.
    ‘Are you still mad at me, Jamie-boy?’ Sarah said as soon as they were alone.
    ‘No.’ He resisted the urge to brush away the hair that was hanging over her left eye. ‘You are very hard to stay mad at. I think I lasted all of half an hour.’
    ‘Ah… he loves me!’ She squeezed his arm. Her hand was hot and moist. Her breathing was heavy. An involuntary glance at her chest revealed stiff nipples poking through white cotton. An image of Sarah – damp, naked, writhing underneath him – flitted across his mind. He pushed it away, but it was too late. Sarah could sense lust the way she could smell fear, and both excited her to the same