Secret Confessions: Down & Dusty — Kelly (2 page)

Nope.
Desire was absent. In its place was the scorching heat of anger, which immediately extinguished the flicker of her arousal as fast as a flame starved of oxygen.

‘You bought a vibrator?’ Grant’s tone was quiet, low and accusatory.

A swoop of guilt rushed her from head to toe. Not guilt from buying the toy—never that—but guilt that she’d hidden it from him as if it was a secret. A second later her own anger flared. ‘Hang on. What were you doing rifling through my sock drawer?’

‘Looking for
my
socks. None of them are in my drawer.’

‘Ruby and Max made sock puppets,’ she said automatically as if it was oddly necessary to account for his missing socks and that was when it hit her. This was the perfect segue to lead her into what she’d been trying to talk to him about for weeks. ‘I bought the vibrator because it’s designed for solo and couple use. I thought it might be … you know—’ she shrugged, ‘—fun for both of us.’

He snorted, the sound harsh and derisive. ‘We
don’t
need a vibrator.’

She couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. ‘That’s true. To use it together, we’d have to actually have sex.’

A muscle jerked in his cheek. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. We have sex.’

‘Are you serious?’ Incredulity made her throw out her hands. ‘Do you know how long it’s been since we last had sex?’

‘I don’t keep a diary.’ He ground out the words in a tone that the children would recognise as a
do not cross
line.

Nausea rolled her gut and then the sickening wave washed into every part of her. She’d never expected those words from the man who’d once flown 1800 kilometres from Mount Isa to Brisbane for a two-hour visit just because he hadn’t seen her in nine days. A man who, on the way to the motel from the airport, had held the wheel of the car with one hand and used the fingers of his other hand to stroke her until she was slick and wet and begging. She’d climaxed at a set of traffic lights and he’d captured her scream with his mouth. How could he stand here now and say he didn’t remember that it had been weeks since they’d had sex?

She caught the inside of her cheek with her teeth and forced herself to ask the question that had hovered at the edge of her mind for far too long. ‘Are you having sex with someone else?’

‘No!’ His face burned with offence and resentment. ‘Tell me you haven’t used that … that … purple thing.’

She hated that he sounded so angry and hurt, but he’d been the one to lose interest in her and she wasn’t going to lie. This conversation was far too important for that. ‘I have used it.’

‘Why?’

Bewilderment clung to the word and she was so devastated by the sound that she didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry or do both at the same time. How could he not understand? ‘Do you really have to ask me? Grant, you work long days. When you’re home, by the time we do stuff with the kids and deal with the domestic things, you’re exhausted and you’ve got nothing left for me.’

‘Jesus, Kelly.’ He rubbed his face with his hands. ‘We’re in the middle of a bloody drought.’

‘I know.’ This drought wasn’t just about a lack of rain. ‘It’s why Head Office asked us to come out here and live, so we’re closer to the people who need us.’

‘Exactly. Do you know I’ve got big burly farmers, guys who’ve always seemed bullet-proof, coming into my office and crying?’ He swallowed. ‘Do you know that yesterday I actually welcomed the fact that Hendo fractured his femur, because it was something I could fix?’

Her heart ached for him. For them. ‘I get it, Grant, I do. I’m living it as well. I see the women, the wives and partners of those men at my clinics. Everyone’s doing it tough.’ She reached out her hand and cupped his jaw. ‘I know we agreed to come out here to help. I’m happy to be part of it and to support you and the community, but I’m scared we’re so busy caring for everyone else that you and I are going to become another drought statistic.’

The Grant she’d fallen in love with had never been able to stand this close to her without wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into him. Pulling her in so tightly that her tingling breasts would flatten against his solid chest, his erection would press hard and temptingly against the apex of her thighs, and his tongue would delve into her hot and ready mouth, promising that the best was yet to come.

Today’s Grant stood rigidly still, staring down at her for long silent seconds, his face impassive and his eyes unreadable. He was so close to her that she could feel his breath on her skin and yet he’d never felt further away. He wasn’t disputing her about being a drought statistic, in fact he wasn’t saying anything. The silence dragged on, jagged and cold in the middle of a heatwave. Had the drought already claimed them? Her heart lurched into her mouth and she had to concentrate hard not to gag.

The ring of his phone broke into the fraught silence and Grant pulled it from his pocket and accepted the call. ‘Grant Wilkins.’ He walked out of the pantry, into the kitchen and outside without looking back.

Kelly sank onto the seat of the step stool and gave up the fight, allowing her tears to fall.

***

‘Remember, his mouth needs to be wide open before he attaches,’ Kelly advised a new mum who was having some breast-feeding problems. ‘See how his mouth looks like a K against your breast? That means he’s on correctly.’

‘Thanks, Kelly,’ Sally Lin said, stroking her baby son’s head as he guzzled down milk. ‘We’re so lucky to have you and Dr Wilkins here. You’re both awesome.’

Kelly managed a wan smile. ‘You’re welcome.’ She didn’t say anything else, because she didn’t trust herself to mention Grant in case she burst into tears. Again.

Somehow this morning, when she’d come out of the pantry, she’d managed to hide from the twins the fact that she’d been crying. They’d said, ‘Daddy says goodbye,’ which meant Grant had kissed them farewell, but he hadn’t come back to find her. With an aching heart, she’d put on her best
in-charge
voice, signed their school diaries, chased down a missing library book, cleaned up cat furball vomit, badgered the twins through the teeth-cleaning routine and had finally got them to school on time. After that, she’d thrown herself into her workday, thankful to be busy.

She snapped her bag shut. ‘I better get on the road if I’m going to be back in Mil Springs by school pickup. You stay feeding Brady and I’ll see myself out.’

Usually Mindi Station homestead was surrounded by a bright and cheery green lawn of couch grass to keep the dust at bay but, with no water to spare, the drought had put paid to that. The yard was as burnt-red as the rest of the landscape and when Kelly crossed it, she wondered if Mars looked much the same. She threw her bag onto the passenger seat before swinging up behind the wheel, turning on the ignition and ramping up the aircon to cool the trapped heat.

With the large-tread tyres of the four-wheel drive gripping the red-dirt station track, it didn’t take long before she rumbled over the cattle grid and was back on the packed gravel road heading toward town. She drove around a ring-tailed dragon sunning itself in the middle of the road and, as she passed a gnarly Coolabah tree in one of the many channels that gave the area its name, a flock of Major Mitchell cockatoos rose into the clear blue sky with their distinctive flash of white and pink. She loved this country, but its unforgiving harshness played havoc with people’s lives—with her marriage. It wasn’t a place for the faint-hearted.

Her phone buzzed and her breath stalled in her chest.

Grant.

Even when they hadn’t argued, his texts were never good news. She braked and pulled over, forcing herself to pick up the phone and click on the buttons until she could read the message.

Are you wearing my socks?

She stared at the words, none of which made any sense. He’d left her this morning without kissing her goodbye and now, despite her having told him, he was asking her about his bloody socks again?

A fizz of anger spurted and her fingers clicked jerkily on the keys.
Not wearing any socks. R&M made puppets. Look in the toy basket.

She set the phone back in its holder and was about to pull out onto the road when it buzzed again.

So your legs are bare?

What was he on about? He knew what her uniform looked like and that no one wore pantyhose out here in this heat.
Of course they’re bare.

A message came straight back.
I love the feel of your bare skin against my hand. Against my lips …

Oh!
She gasped as a zip of need bolted through her, landing with an addictive shimmer between her legs.

He was sexting her.

Excitement bubbled in her veins. He’d never sexted her before, not even when things had been good or when they’d had easy access to mobile phone reception. With trembling fingers, she texted back, cursing the simple SMS facility of the SAT phone that meant she was pressing buttons multiple times to make words.

Where are your lips right now?

Where do you want them to be?

She licked her lips and typed,
Everywhere
.

Two very long minutes passed and she wondered if he’d stopped. Should she have been more specific? Had he changed his mind? Been interrupted? She stared out at the mulga as dismay trudged through her, pulling her down with it.

The phone beeped
. I’ve flicked open your sheer bra. Your nipples are hard & begging 4 my mouth.

A shiver of wondrous anticipation tickled down her spine and her breasts throbbed and strained against the lace of her bra. The same bra Grant was texting about. God, she wanted to feel his hot and blazing mouth on her right this second.

They’re aching for you. They’re yours.
She pressed send and her body quivered, pulsing excitement along her veins and heating her skin. She almost panted as she eagerly waited for his reply.

My mouth’s sucking them. You’re making that high-pitched sound I love.

She heard herself making that same mewling moan as pure lust rocked her. It was as if his mouth was actually on her breasts and his tongue was flicking against her sensitive nipples. White heat arrowed down deep, making her toes curl. Her legs automatically parted as she writhed against the seat desperate to feel something harder pressing into her core.

Sweat beaded on her top lip and her fingers slipped on the tiny keys.
My fingers are in your hair, on your back, gripping your

She hesitated. She never used colloquial words. Hell, she texted with full punctuation and no shortcuts, because anything else just didn’t sit right. Talking dirty wasn’t something she and Grant had ever done before, but then, she’d never sexted with him before today either. The idea of typing words she only ever associated with porn snagged, but with Grant giving her the first sign in weeks that he was interested, she wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

Pushing aside years of conditioning and silencing her mother’s voice, she typed
arse
. She immediately laughed out loud at how tame it was, but at the same time it felt excitingly new.

A long and excruciating few minutes passed and the phone stayed silent. Had she broken the moment by stepping out of her normal persona? Where the hell was a satellite when she needed it? She waved the phone around the car and then stuck her arm outside, straight up toward the bright, blue sky. The phone blessedly beeped.

She pulled her arm down so fast that her skin scraped against the partially wound-down window.

I want your hand rubbing my cock.

She blinked. Twice. She’d never heard Grant use the word, but she couldn’t deny the thrill that was skittering across her skin and leaving a glorious, fizzing trail of anticipation in its wake. It took her now-shaking fingers two attempts before she managed to type and send,
You’re hard, but silky under my fingers. Wet against my thumb.

The reply was quick
. Oh baby.

She heard a soft ‘oh’ leave her mouth. He hadn’t called her that in so long she wanted to cry.

Screw crying
, her body screamed.
We want him. We’re begging for him. Right. This. Instant.

The phone beeped again.
I’m licking a path straight down your belly.

Her blood swooped downwards and instantly pooled between her legs—hot and heavy—and an intoxicating throb pulsed through her. She vividly remembered how his mouth would enclose her breast with a gentle nip, how he’d suckle her and his tongue would flick and tease and deliciously torment her. How she’d buck and writhe and magic happened. She leant back against the seat and gave over to her imagination.
Your mouth’s on me and I’ve got you in my mouth.

Long seconds ticked past and she gripped the phone so hard it was a miracle it didn’t crack. She waved it outside, but then the wind blew dust inside the Cruiser so she wound up the window and willed the next text to come in. Finally, the phone beeped.

We’re licking each other like our favourite ice cream.

Her breathing hitched as need built into a fireball. Every cell in her body craved his touch and panted,
yes, please. Lick me. Never stop.
The cotton of her undies, now deliciously damp, stuck to her.

Barely able to focus on the small screen, she managed to type,
I’m so wet for you
.

You taste amazing.

Her head spun, silver spots danced in front of her eyes and every part of her craved Grant with an agony that had her squirming and shaking.

A knock on the four-wheel drive’s window startled her so much she dropped the phone into her lap. Trembling, she wound down the window and was face-to-face with Milpinyani Springs’ police officer.

‘Dare,’ she somehow managed to splutter out of her now very dry mouth, ‘h-hi.’

His open and friendly face stared back at her with a touch of concern in his eyes. ‘Everything okay, Kelly? You look a bit flushed.’

I was well on the way to an orgasm.
Her heart hammered so hard she wouldn’t be surprised if Dare could hear it. Her brain, which had shut down from arousal overload and a lack of blood supply, was totally blank. She tried to summon up some words. ‘I … yes … ’ She fanned her face. ‘It’s warm today, isn’t it?’