Betraying Me

By Camilla Sandman

Disclaimer: Blue Heelers and associated characters have their home at Channel Seven. I claim no ownership.

Summary: Tess may have made up her mind not to get involved with Evan, but her body might betray her…

Takes place after Out of Control

Thank ye, Saz. You're a smut hog.

II

It wasn't a very special night, neither hot nor cold. The sky was black, the stars dimmed, the moon somewhere between silver and white. A low buzz of nightlife hung in the air, interrupted only now and then by distant sounds of cars. It was quiet and peaceful in a way it never was in a large city, and Tess Gallagher was enjoying an evening at home.

Although enjoying was perhaps not the right word. More truthfully, she was pretending to enjoy. Pretending that she'd always preferred to be alone, and had not married a man for the comfort of having someone there. Someone safe. Someone dependable. Someone whose very touch was not fire and joy and pain all mixed together.

Someone who wasn't Evan.

Her body betrayed her, as always. At the thought of his name, her skin tingled, remembering the caress of his gaze. Even when he was angry, there was something in his gaze that was tender and caressing and passionate and meant just for her.

So she had married Josh, who was safe and dependable and who never looked at her like that. Who would never burn her heart with the fire of his passion. A good marriage, the kind that would last, and not die when the passion burnt out.

A failed marriage.

The words of her book were blurred together, but she continued to stare at it, willing herself to be reading it, to be enjoying a quiet night at home. She was not lonely.

Cold descended on her suddenly, freezing her to the marrow of her bones. It was not the air that chilled her, and she didn't reach for a blanket.

The knock tore her from her thoughts mercifully, sounding slightly hesitant. She got up, tossing the book onto the couch without caring to bookmark. It didn't matter. She hadn't been reading anyway.

Unsurprisingly, it was Jonesy. His face held no gentleness and he held up the clipboard as if it was a warrant allowing him entry. She cracked the door open, trying a light smile.

"You forgot this," he opened with, his voice with the same edge she had heard so often after she had brushed him off. His advances had felt too sudden, too warm, her marriage failed and no buffers.

"Thanks," she replied, unconsciously opening the door wider.

"You did say you wanted to get some paperwork done," he continued, but his tone started to soften as he looked at her. "You look good."

The words were like spring, chasing the cold from her bones. Her body was betraying her again, as it always did around him. So easy to let go. So impossible.

"Thanks," she muttered again, her words sounding rasped even to her own ears. Hastily she reached for the offered clipboard, preparing to close the door. "See you tomorrow, Jonesy."

"Tess….."

There it was. The bloody way he said her name, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. She lifted her eyes to his face, drinking in the raw emotion. Damn him. Damn him and damn her and damn her throbbing heart and her warm skin. Damn him for not touching her and damn him if he dared to.

His eyes never left her face as she stepped forward, no longer allowing her to close the door on him.

"Do you want me to go, Tess?"

His voice was low, almost growling and her body refused to nod, refused her to speak. For a moment he waited, for a moment her life was still safe, still unburned.

His lips descended on hers forcefully, demanding even at the first touch. He claimed her mouth with a vigour threatening to topple her over, and his hands went to her waist and her back to settle her body against his.

His lips were as soft as she remembered and he tasted slightly of coffee. Damn. She couldn't blame alcohol. It was a strangely coherent thought as a haze settled over her mind, her body being all that mattered.

His jumper felt soft under her fingers, but she begun to tear at it, eager to feel skin against her fingertips. He groaned when her hands dipped to his waist, caressing the exposed skin of his abdomen. She could feel the muscles flexing against her hand as he dipped her slightly, her only safeguard against falling backwards being his strong arms.

"Inside," she managed to gasp, trying to regain enough balance to stumble backwards. He complied, slamming the door shut with a foot as he started an assault on her neck. She moaned, and still out of balance she could only cling to him.

Grateful to finally feel the couch against her legs, she dragged him down to fall on top of her. Her body welcomed the weight of his, hard and soft at the same time. She locked a leg over his, as if to make sure he could not run. Not that she really thought he would. She just thought she might die if he stopped touching her now.

The sweater came off. He wore a tank top underneath, but even as sexy it looked, she quickly tugged it off also. She was briefly aware of the tearing of fabric and that her blouse was probably ruined, but the thought gave way to bliss as warms hands settled on her breasts.

"I always thought you were a lace kind of woman," he muttered huskily as she arched against him. She had no breath to answer, but retaliated by scraping her nails against his back. He made a noise halfway between a whimper and a growl, crushing her mouth against his in a demanding, hungry kiss.

Dimly, she was aware of her book digging into her back, but it didn't really matter. She tugged at his trousers, feeling want and need becoming one and assaulting her body in an impatient manner.

"Should we…... Ah….. bed?" he muttered, lifting her up and pushing away the book and unhooking her bra at the same time.

"No. Here. Now," she rasped, twisting him under her and straddling him. He looked up at her with something close to worship in his eyes. For a moment he merely looked, then he lifted his head and kissed her so tenderly the touch was like a wisp of wind.

"I love you, Tess," he whispered, and even with eyes dark with desire, she could see the honest truth in the statement.

"Evan," she merely whispered back, before kissing him for fear of the words she might utter. But where her mind would not go, her body again betrayed her, leaning into his caresses and touches and seeking his warmth.

The rest of the clothing ended up on the floor and the table, and there was only skin. Almost reverently, she traced lines on his broad chest, his hands lingering on her hips.

"Tess," he muttered, as if to remind himself it was her. "Oh God….."

He sank into her with an urgency that mirrored her own, and she wasn't sure if it was he who made a sound not quite human, or herself. His hands locked with hers as she moved, agonisingly slow for as long as she managed. Somewhere along the way she lost patience, the fire demanding a burn and her body release.

She bit into his shoulder as light exploded in her mind, washing away her body in a tidal wave. For a moment she felt warmth that was almost painful, before it subsided, leaving her breathless.

"You're beautiful," he whispered in her ear, palm against her beating heart. She replied by bucking against him, and he groaned. She watched his face as his body tensed and tensed with every movement and his face became one of bliss and strangely, innocence.

She fell against his chest, allowing him to hold her while they just lay breathing. Puddles, who had taken a nap on one pile of clothes, came wandering over to lick Tess's hand.

"Go away," she groaned, but the dog merely went on with its merry task.

"I don't need any help, Puddles," Evan answered cheekily, and for a moment they both laughed.

She closed her eyes as breath and mind began to return to her, and horrifying realisation started to dawn on her. She had slept with him.

A firm hand on her stopped her attempt to get up. Evan's face was a mixture of anger, fear and pride.

"No," he simply said.

"Evan…..she warned.

"Tess….. Please….. Could it just wait?"

There was a plea in his voice and against all reason, she sank back against him. He managed to get a blanket around them, wrapping her in his arms.

"I love you," he whispered again.

'That's the problem,' she thought, even as her mind begun to lose grip and surrender to sleep. Her last sense was of her body, pressing itself as close to his as it could, still betraying her.

She slept.