Secret Confessions: Down & Dusty — Kelly (3 page)

‘Not really,’ he said in his slow, Queensland drawl. ‘Out here, thirty-four’s a cool one. You haven’t broken down again, have you?’

‘No.’ The phone beeped and she immediately grabbed it, closing her hand around it as if there was a crazy chance that Dare had magnified vision and could read the racy texts. ‘I just pulled over to answer a text.’ The phone started ringing. ‘You know the law, don’t sext—’
Oh my god!
‘—text,’ she amended loudly, ‘and drive.’

‘Yeah.’ Dare scratched his head and gave her an odd look. ‘You going to answer that?’

‘Sorry?’

‘The phone.’

‘Oh, yes, right.’ Her body had lurched so fast from fully aroused to blind panic that she not only had whiplash, but brain lash. She took the call. ‘Kelly Wilkins.’

‘Hi, Kelly, it’s Amy. Did you get my text? We’re short-staffed tonight. Can you possibly do a three-to-eight to cover dinner, meds and the evening settling?’

Dare tapped on the roof of the vehicle and she looked up. He gave her a wave and walked back to his police ute with its cage on the back.

She absently waved back. ‘Amy, I’m sorry, but I don’t have any childcare.’

‘You do. It was Grant who suggested you work. He finished up an hour ago and said he was going to run footy clinic after school, so he’ll look after the kids. Please, Kels. I’m desperate.’

A hollow feeling filled her along with a trickle of foolishness. In her lust-filled state, she’d assumed that after the hot and heavy sexting that had just gone down between them, she’d drive straight to Grant, but really, how dumb was that? They both had jobs and kids and the chance of actually tumbling into bed before nine o’clock tonight was non-existent.

Why did he suggest I work if he’s finishing work early?
Why had he sexted her until she was gasping, panting and desperate for sex if nothing was going to happen? None of it made any sense.

‘Kelly? Are you still there?’

She checked the phone, but the only new text was the one from Amy. Intense disappointment slugged her as duty called and a long sigh rolled out of her as her body wept. ‘Amy, I’ll be there in half an hour.’

***

‘Want me to tuck you in, Elsie?’ Kelly said, walking into the 92-year-old’s room. She watched the woman’s life-lined but friendly face fall. ‘Expecting someone else?’

Elsie grinned as if she was a girl again. ‘Leo.’

Leo was Milpinyani’s male nurse and a big favourite in the small, six-bed permanent care unit. The men loved him because he was a walking, talking sports encyclopedia and the women loved him because he made a fuss of them. Kelly had learned over the years that no matter how old a woman was on the outside, inside she was still eighteen, happy to bat her eyelids at a good-looking man and flirt with him until her cheeks pinked and her eyes sparkled. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, Elsie.’

‘I’ve had worse disappointments, lovey.’ Her rheumy eyes glanced toward the sepia photo of her wedding day that showed her as a young, smiling bride gazing up at her now deceased soldier husband. ‘When you lie with a man for sixty-three years, it’s the touch you miss the most when he’s gone.’

Kelly was fluffing the doona and trying to wrap her head around the idea of being married to the same person for sixty-three years. She and Grant were struggling after a mere ten.

Elsie added, ‘And the sex. I really miss that.’

‘I miss it too.’ The words slipped out before she even realised she’d said them and she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. She sent up a quick wish that Elsie’s hearing wasn’t the best.

Elsie patted her hand. ‘Friday night was Stan’s and my night.’

‘You had sex every Friday?’ Kelly thought it sounded all a bit routine and clinical, but then again, the spontaneous sex that had been the foundation of their early relationship was no longer working for her and Grant.

We were spontaneous today.
Her mind went straight back to the sexting. Who was she kidding? Her mind had never left the glorious sensations in the car and her body had been on high alert ever since—oh-so-ready and hating the waiting. Why had Grant taunted her with the promise of sex when he knew she had to work?

There was no promise.

The thought hit her so hard it hurt. She remembered his tight and furious face this morning when he’d found the vibrator and her heart sank. All this time she’d been thinking that the sexting was an olive branch, a sign he’d heard her this morning, but now she was not so sure. Was he still angry? Had the sexting been some sort of payback? Get her to the point of wild abandonment, have her teetering on the precipice, and then just stop and walk away?

The insidious thoughts latched onto her like burrs and she tried hard to shake them off. Grant wasn’t petty. Sure, they argued from time to time, but it was always respectful and resolved quickly, ending with a kiss and later sex.

But he’s never been as hurt and as angry with you as he was this morning.
She couldn’t get past that truth; this morning she’d hardly recognised him.

‘Not just on Fridays, dear,’ Elsie’s voice broke into her harrowing thoughts, ‘but because life can get in the way we always had Friday.’

The world-weary but wise woman tilted her head and gave her a long and ruminative stare as if she could see straight down into Kelly’s deepest, darkest, swirling fears. ‘Men are funny buggers,’ Elsie said, shaking her head. ‘Women will talk about their feelings at the drop of a hat, but men need sex to do that.

‘Sure, they’re snoring five minutes after they’ve finished, but over the week, if they’ve had sex, there’s more of a chance they’ll tell you stuff that’s bothering them. My generation didn’t talk about feelings much. We just got on with it, but sometimes at night, all cuddled up and cosy under the covers, Stan let things slip.’

The hollow feeling inside Kelly intensified. God, how long had it been since she and Grant had cuddled and spooned? Talked about anything other than the kids, the bills, work, the drought and the omnipresent dust?

Way too long.

She kissed the old woman on the cheek. ‘Sleep well.’

‘I hope you don’t.’ Elsie winked at her and picked up her romance novel.

Kelly faked a smile. She already knew she wouldn’t sleep well tonight, but given everything that had happened in the previous weeks—and today—it wasn’t going to be sex that kept her awake. It would be the death throes of her marriage.

She’d already handed over to the night staff before settling Elsie so she walked out to the nurses’ station ready to pick up her bag and head home. As she reached the counter, she stopped short.

Grant.

Her whole body sighed at the delectable side-on view. His stethoscope was looped around his neck and he was leaning over the desk staring at the computer screen. Despite his aura of fatigue and the deep worry lines around his eyes, he still looked gorgeous. His pale green polo shirt with its navy blue trim stretched across the breadth of his chest, emphasising his square shoulders. The taut armbands on the sleeves strained to their breaking point, filled by his toned triceps and biceps.

Oh baby.

He’d said that to her in one of his texts. Surely that meant something?

Hope stirred as her gaze kept going, taking in the way his shirt was tucked in over his flat belly and the line of his linen shorts curled around his tight-to-the-touch backside.

Arse.

The texts rushed back and her muscles tightened on a shot of longing. Her cheeks burned, along with the rest of her, and she wanted to jump him right there and then, exactly the way she’d done the week they’d met ten years ago.

He chose that moment to look up, but there was no wicked grin for her, no cheeky wink, no slow burn in his eyes, and no acknowledgement whatsoever of what they’d done a few hours prior.

Her insides puckered and her hopes deflated like a perishing balloon. Her arousal flat-lined under the assault of another rejection.

He gave her a quick nod as if she was just another staff member. ‘Can you set up for a chest tube? Bert McCurdy’s pleural effusion has got worse.’

‘Really?’ Astonishment rippled through her. Bert had been fine an hour ago. ‘Did Amy call you?’

His concentration was back on the screen. ‘Hmmm.’

His lack of attention really irked. ‘Can’t Amy help you? I need to get home to the kids.’

‘The kids are at Annie’s.’ He typed a note on Bert’s history. ‘Amy’s busy, so you’re it. I’ll meet you in Bert’s room.’

Yes, Doctor.
A slow burn of anger simmered inside her at his perfunctory tone. Anger at whatever the hell game he was playing, because none of this was following the rules of sexting as she understood them. Anger at his ridiculous reaction to a sex toy that she’d bought with good intentions and was supposed to have excited him.

She marched to the treatment room, her rubber-soled shoes squeaking loudly against the linoleum floor. As a community health nurse, she didn’t work very often in the small hospital, so she wasn’t totally familiar with where things were kept. Between that and her fury at Grant, it took her a few minutes to find everything she needed.

She was up on her tippy-toes, reaching into a top cupboard with her fingers seeking the chest tube package, when she felt hands on her waist, the fingers gripping firmly. She gasped in surprise as her heels hit the floor and a hard, strong body pressed up against her, trapping her between him and the bench.

‘Nurse Wilkins.’ Grant’s deep voice blew erotically against her ear and all her banked yearning flared traitorously to life again. ‘That uniform’s indecently short when you do that.’

Lust rolled through her in intoxicating waves, but a heroic flicker of her fury somehow managed to survive the onslaught. She tugged on her uniform, smoothing it down. ‘Well, I can’t reach the chest tube,
Doctor
, so you’ll have to get it yourself.’

He laughed—the sound wicked and utterly delicious—and she gripped the bench as her knees sagged. ‘Bert’s fine,’ he whispered and his hand moved her hair and then his hot, moist mouth settled on the back of her neck. ‘I just wanted to get you in here alone so we could reminisce about the Royal Brisbane.’

Their first time.
Hope tumbled over excitement. ‘You set this up?’

‘Oh baby, I’ve been planning this all day. I got Amy to ask you to work and Annie to mind the kids.’

Squee!
Everything inside her flipped in happiness. He’d heard her this morning and he’d listened. She grabbed his hand and kissed his palm as the tip of his tongue caressed her skin. She sighed and her head fell back against his shoulder, exposing her throat to his touch. She wanted his touch more than she’d wanted anything in a long, long time and she needed it even more. Her blood pounded thick, molten, sexual hunger through her, extinguishing every thought and leaving only aching, pulsating desire.

‘I did make one mistake though,’ he said, his voice deep and low.

‘What was that?’ Her head lolled as he sucked her skin into his mouth and nipped her. She gasped.

‘If I’d known you were so fucking amazing at sexting, I would have waited until later in the day to try it.’ He rubbed himself against her, his erection pressing hard against the crack of her arse. ‘God—’ his voice was rough and ragged, ‘—talk about blue balls. I’ve been hard for you for hours.’

Her body leapt as ribbons of pleasure streamed through her and she turned in his arms. He gazed down at her with glittering, unfocused eyes filled with hot, pure need. She’d never wanted him so badly. ‘Lock. The. Door.’

His mouth plundered hers and he pushed her back toward the door. As her back hit the wall, his foot kicked the door shut. Without breaking contact with his mouth, she shuffled them sideways and her shaking fingers found the lock and threw it. With tongues still duelling, they crashed back toward the window and fumbled badly with the blinds, but miraculously they somehow managed to drop and close them.

‘Shhh,’ she spluttered in a hoarse whisper, ‘Someone will hear.’

He just grinned down at her, excitement blazing in his eyes. He swung her away from the window and then pulled the curtain around them before pressing her up against the wall. His mouth devoured hers as if she was his air supply and his familiar taste of mint toothpaste, coffee and heat flooded her with promise. He’d always been an incredible kisser, easily able to strip her of all coherent thought. As he took from her, he also worshipped her with his mouth and tongue, reminding her that her sexuality was an equally powerful force.

Her hands tangled in his hair, gripping his scalp as he fumbled with the buttons on her work blouse and then his mouth was on her breasts, licking her through her bra. She dropped her face into his hair and cried out as electric jolts of need jagged through her, culminating deep inside . She was more than wet, more than ready—she was deliciously, achingly desperate for him.

His hands yanked up her skirt until it was bunched around her waist and his fingers slipped inside the gusset of her undies. She half sighed, half moaned at his firm touch sliding against her slickness, expertly building and teasing the pulsing ache of her muscles to fever pitch.

‘Need. You. Now,’ she panted, the words scratching against her dry throat.

Her hands flew to the button on his shorts, tugging hard, and the cotton stalk snapped in her hand. She vaguely heard the tinkle of the button against the floor as it rolled away, but she didn’t care. Her focus was totally centred on the prize behind the zip. Her fingers stumbled on the tag, slid it down and then she heard a short, high-pitched sound of relief—hers—as she wrapped her palm around him. He was divinely thick, hot and hard. For her. Only for her.

She squeezed. He groaned.

She slung her arms around his neck and he bent his knees. His hands cupped her arse and she straddled his thighs before he pressed her back against the wall. She was exhilaratingly trapped and totally at his mercy. She never wanted it to stop. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she lowered herself onto him.

‘Oh baby.’ His words shot out low and rough as he straightened up and rocked into her, filling her completely.