“Angel baby?” he taunted, completely convinced that I’d fold.
I shook my head but I didn’t trust my voice.
“Yeah, you want it,” he contradicted me, then he reached out and caressed my breast through the thin voile of my tunic. I felt the nipple harden instantly, but I couldn’t drag my attention from his gaze. It was so hungry. “We could try for another three.”
He was making it sound like the attraction was one-way, so I said, “You want me.”
He nodded. “I’ve told you that.” His thumb stopped stroking my nipple and he let the back of his hand slide down over my stomach to my groin where one of his fingers stroked back and forth lightly over my clitoris.
I had to close my eyes in the struggle to control myself, to stay still, when I wanted to open my legs and let him do what he was so very good at. Making me come. But at what price?
I raised my chin. There had to be a catch. “What do you want from me?”
“Regular sex,” he said straightaway, as if he had it all worked out. But his voice was low and rumbling and it really turned me on. “We both want it,” he added persuasively.
I opened my eyes again and glanced at his penis which was as rampant as I’d ever seen it. And I wavered. One step forward and we’d be kissing. But where would that end? Eventually?
It was one thing to be excited by the lure of orgasms, and quite another to turn into the sort of woman who was more interested in sexual pleasure than her own self esteem. I had a life outside this cottage. Friends. A career that looked set to take off. Why would I jeopardize any of that for another few hours of sexual gratification?
My friends were waiting for me, probably worried. I’d had my crazy fling. It was over. I needed to get back to the real world. Jill and Finn were driving me to the airport this morning. Kamal was picking me up in Sydney. And Noah Steele was sending through details of an agent. I didn’t have time for this. And I needed to stop it now.
So I took a step backward. And then another. “Whatever this was.” I gestured between the two of us. “It’s over now. I’m going back to my life.”
“Oh, I see. And I clearly don’t belong in your life, is that it?”
“You said you only followed me to Fritha’s launch to make amends, but now you’re trying to talk me into a sexual arrangement? As if I’m…” A slut. The heat between us hadn’t diminished, and in fact the angry words had only made me crave his touch more, but I just knew, “This isn’t right.”
“Because it’s not romantic? Because I’m not telling you I’m in love with you?”
He sounded so surprised, I wanted to laugh. With hysteria probably. I was starting to realize what I’d done, and how appalling it was, how unlike me, how cheap. I seriously wanted to go.
He shook his head. “You don’t want a relationship. You want orgasms. I can do that.”
Cocky bastard. “And what do you want?” There had to be something.
He stared at me for five long seconds. “You. Again and again.”
I could almost hear Fritha’s voice in my head That’s so romantic, but it wasn’t. It was lust.
And then I heard Jill saying, What’s wrong with lust?
But they weren’t standing in my shoes. I needed to find out what was right for me, not them. This felt wrong, and I wanted to go. I held up my good hand. “You’ve said your piece. I’m going now. Stand aside.”
I’d never heard myself so abrupt, but I desperately needed to escape. Having him so close, so naked and ready to make love with me, was making my body respond, and that scrambled my brain. I had to get away from him and think. Because I wasn’t the sort of woman who had casual sex. He’d dazzled me with sensations and I needed to find myself beyond that.
“I should have tied you up,” he said and shrugged, clearly trying for nonchalance, but the intensity hadn’t gone out of his gaze. If he’d been trying to create mind-pictures that would travel home with me, it worked. I instantly saw myself spread-eagled on the bed with my arms and legs tethered so he could please me in whatever way he wanted to. And that was so sexy I had another second of faltering.
But in the next moment he stepped back, and I wasted no time in marching past him and opening the door. It was only when I stood in the opened doorway with the surety that I could escape, that I turned back to say, “Thank you. For everything. And goodbye.”
It sounded final, even to me, and as I closed the door softly behind myself and walked down the front stairs of the cute rental cottage on trembling legs—wearing my clothes from the night before—I was forced to admit that I’d just had a one-night-stand, something I’d never imagined myself doing.
My mother would be horrified. Danny had been my only lover, and I’d never imagined myself being promiscuous, even after I’d left Danny. Jack’s declaration that he wanted me again and again sounded exclusive, but I knew if he couldn’t have me he’d move on to the next woman.
Men liked novelty. Everyone knew that. Well, unless they were truly in love, in which case they were supposedly happy with monogamy. I hated thinking about that, because it reminded me that Danny hadn’t been in love. And despite the delicious ache between my legs, which reminded me of all that I hadn’t had with Danny, I still missed having him in my life.
Before last night, I’d felt so betrayed by his infidelity that I hadn’t been able to remember my love for him, but having sex with someone else had magically unlocked that feeling.
Intellectually, I knew I hadn’t just cheated on Danny, but emotionally, it felt like I’d had sex outside our marriage, and that caused some part of my brain to felt empathy with him. It made no sense, but as I trudged back to Bohemian Brew, down the pretty tree-lined streets of Belandera, I felt—for the first time—as if I understood why he might have strayed.
It had been six months since our separation and he hadn’t moved anyone in with him, so he clearly hadn’t fallen in love. He’d probably just been promiscuous. Maybe he’d known I was faking and wanted more authentic sex. Exactly as I’d craved.
With Jack.
I turned a corner and saw the shop up ahead with one of Fritha’s young waitresses sweeping the footpath and setting out tables and chairs. I had a flicker of wondering whether I should turn-tail and find another way to the Bed and Breakfast where I was supposed to have slept.
But really? Fritha would find out sooner or later. I may as well get it over and done with. So I walked up to the café and said to the waitress, “Am I too early for breakfast?”
She dimpled and shook her head. “Our best table for the diva.” And led me to the booth at the back where Noah Steele had sat.
After a spinach frittata and two mugs of coffee, Fritha and I were deep in What does ‘slut’ mean anyway? when Jill and Finn arrived, both in jeans and tee-shirts, looking casually stunning. Fritha waved them over enthusiastically, bangles clanking and long red curls flying everywhere in her excitement. I brushed down the creased front of my tunic and tried not to feel embarrassed as Jill scoped me out.
But it was Finn who spoke, frowning. “Angela…you’re in the same clothes. Didn’t we bring your suitcase?”
Jill smiled as she shook her head. “Clueless,” she whispered to us, and grabbed his arm, pointing to a table in the sun. “Can we sit there, honey? I want to work on my tan.”
Poor Finn looked from one to the other of us, clearly realizing something was going on, but in the end, he said, “Sure,” and left us alone.
Jill leant down to look me right in the eyes from close range. “So…?”
I shrugged. “The curse is broken.”
“Three times,” Fritha whispered across the table, and bless her, she held up three skinny fingers, clearly impressed.
“Fuck,” Jill said, eyes wide. “Are we talking three sessions, or three I’ll have what she’s having?”
I kept my voice low. “The second.”
“Wowsers.” Jill straightened and looked at me afresh. “That’s what I call breaking the drought.�
�� She looked around. “So where is the super stud? Sleeping in?”
“I don’t know.” I suddenly felt put on the spot. “It was just a one-off. I’m not—”
Jill raised one eyebrow. “A one-night stand? Angela Lata?” She shook her head. “Sister Carmel didn’t see that coming.”
Damn it, I was blushing again. “Jill!”
“All right. But you surely don’t imagine he’s just going to let you go?”
I frowned at her. “I told him it was over.”
“Of course,” she said, and exchanged a knowing glance with Fritha. “I’m sure it was all so disappointing, he won’t come after you for more amazing sex.”
Damn her, that forced a grin out of me, and I had to say, “It was amazing. But he’s so cocky.”
Fritha burst out laughing.
“Not like that!” I slapped her. “Arrogant. A pain in the ass—”
“Oh!” Jill smirked. “What have you been up to?” She glanced across at Frith. “I had no idea she was so kinky. Did you?”
Fritha’s shrug clearly said she thought I was now a naughty girl capable of anything. “Let’s call her Super Slut.” She knew it was so outrageous, I wouldn’t take offence—me who had only ever slept with two men in my life.
I grabbed her hand and leant forward across the table, forcing Jill to lean in so the whole restaurant didn’t know my business. I kept my voice pitched low. “While I’m glad this…difficulty has been cleared up, I won’t be making a habit of sleeping with random men—”
Jill was back to smirking. “So maybe just stick with ones who can make you howl.”
Fritha started giggling and I knew I wouldn’t be able to talk sense to either of them. I slapped Jill’s arm. “You’ve got a man waiting for you.” I nodded at the table in the sun where Finn was looking at the menu.
“Come over and join us if you want.”
I shook my head. “I’ve had breakfast.”
Fritha patted my cast in a consoling manner. “I don’t think she’s slept.”
I gave her a mock glare, then said to Jill, “I’ll see you guys back at the B&B.”
She nodded. “You still want us to drop you at the airport?”
“Please.”
She considered me for a moment longer and I prepared myself for more teasing, but all she said was, “I think we’re going to see more of this Jack. Or at least you are, SS.” She winked at Fritha and walked off, edging past a group of three couples who were making their way into the shop, looking around to see where they’d sit.
Fritha eased herself out of the booth. “Much as I’d love to stay and talk dirty, I’ve got work.”
“Thanks Frith.” I stood and gathered up my purse.
“I’d do the same for any slut, really.” She grinned that lopsided grin that made it impossible to hate her.
Girlfriends—can’t confide in them, and can’t live without them.
What I needed was to escape, but I didn’t make it out of Bohemian Brew fast enough, which was a pity. As I was heading for the door, Jill waved me over to their table where a petite blonde with pixie hair and a hugely pregnant belly was grinning at me.
“You were amazing last night,” she squealed.
Jill raised an eyebrow. “I’ll bet that’s what Jack said,” she muttered quietly before I shot her a quelling glance.
“Thank you,” I said to the girl who was exactly as Jill had described her—like a tiny white kitten. “You must be Lizzie. I’ve heard so much about you.”
I could easily see how you’d have to love her, no matter that she was carrying Finn’s baby. I held out my hand and she shook it loosely, as if she wasn’t quite sure how to do it.
“Probably the usual things,” she said. “Adorable. Cute. Blah.” She pulled a face at Jill who just laughed. “I’m actually quite mean when I’m cross.”
Jill glanced at me. “I rest my case. Who says cross? Honestly.”
Finn sat between them with his arm on the back of Jill’s chair, smiling at his foster cousin Lizzie with obvious tenderness. Jill appeared completely relaxed, which was a huge relief to me.
It was one thing for Jill to say she was okay with Lizzie, but quite another to see that in action. So a part of me was thrilled that Lizzie’s impending motherhood would bring them all such joy. Finn was about to become Uncle Finn, and no doubt Jill would be Aunty Jill. It was all fabulous, except…
There was an aching part inside of me that looked at Lizzie’s belly and said When will it be my turn?
I hated that part of me—the envious part that couldn’t just be happy with another woman’s success, that had to turn it around to me, me, me! But there was no denying it. I was jealous. And after the hedonistic night I’d shared with Jack, breathless excitement and orgasms just didn’t feel like…enough.
I wanted more.
I wanted the love and fun and laughter and genuine family I could see at this table. And more than anything, I wanted a tiny baby growing inside me. In fact, at that moment while I watched Lizzie laughing at something Jill said, I felt an acute hole, like a stabbing psychological wound, and it was making my throat tight.
Since I’d decided to leave Danny in the face of overwhelming evidence of his infidelity, I’d had tears and anger in the safety of my own room. I’d felt the profound loss and failure that came with leaving a fifteen-year marriage and knowing I’d never celebrate a fiftieth wedding anniversary. There was simply no time to start over with someone else and have that perfect life.
I’d promised myself I could still have children. I was only thirty-five. But as I stared at the happiness in front of me, it became crystal clear to me that wrapped up in my loss was the fact that I’d wanted my children with Danny, and I’d never grieved for the fact that my ideal father was gone.
I’d papered over that loss with anger at his betrayal, reinforced by my girlfriends’ bitterness toward him. I hadn’t faced the truth of how much I’d lost, and somehow looking at Lizzie’s pregnant glow was rubbing my nose in it. Hurt was welling up from deep inside like bubble of gas rising through lava, and I wasn’t sure what would happen when it burst.
As though by instinct, Jill looked up at me and her smile faded. “Back in a sec,” she said and kissed Finn’s cheek. “Secret girlfriend business.”
She jumped out of her chair and steered me away. Behind us I heard Lizzie say, “No fair! I want in,” but Jill waved that away as she led me outside. I had a hand pressed over my mouth, desperate to hold it in, but the bubble burst as we turned the corner and I started to cry.
In the two blocks it took to get to the B&B—thankfully in the opposite direction to Jack’s place—I started sobbing, with my whole body hot and trembling, as if I was in the grip of a horrible hangover.
Jill had an arm around me as I stumbled along, and all I could think was that I was ‘making a spectacle of myself’ (I heard that phrase in my mother’s voice). But it was true. I never cried in front of people, and I was appalled that I was doing it in public.
But Jill just led me into the quaint brick building that had once been a bank, and walked me to my room which had been retro-renovated in an aqua sixties style. She sat me on the chenille bedspread of my unslept-in bed and put an arm around my shoulders while I sobbed my heart out, churning through tissues off the nightstand at a rapid rate.
“Poor baby,” Jill said softly, again and again, giving my shoulder a squeeze, but apart from that she just let me cry.
It took so long to get myself under control, and even then I seemed to be hiccupping sobs for ages before my breathing steadied and I could properly wipe my eyes and blow my nose. Then I realized I had no idea what to say, how to explain myself.
Jill got there first. “Is this about Lizzie being pregnant?”
I nodded, grateful for the intuition of long-time girlfriends who just knew things. I gazed down at the bundle of tissues in my lap. “I know it’s wrong to be jealous.”
She squeezed my shoulder again. “You can’t
help feeling what you feel. It’s okay.”
I nodded again.
“So what do you feel?”
“Bad. Sad. I’ve lost Danny, and I wanted him to be the father of my children.” I sucked in a shuddering breath, wondering if I’d ever get over losing him.
Jill dropped her arm off my shoulder and turned to take both my hands. I forced my gaze up and saw an uncharacteristically serious expression on her face. “So you wanted an adulterous, lying bastard as the role model for your children?”
I blinked at her, stunned that she’d put my future children into such a horrible picture. But as we gazed at each other, something inside me shifted. Her shock tactics worked.
All my married life I’d fantasized Danny as the perfect father. But that wasn’t right. If I reframed the picture, I could imagine him as the father he would have been if he’d never had a vasectomy, teaching his sons by example that it was okay to cheat on your wife, showing his daughters that they should suffer in silence. Was that what I wanted?
Jill had been watching me, and she squeezed my fingers. “I know you’d always want the best for your children, Ange. And he wasn’t the best. Really, you’re better off without him.”
All I could do was shake my head. “But…if I didn’t know Danny was bad, how will I—”
“Sweetie,” Jill said, gentling her voice. “Do you know what Lizzie told me about her baby?”
I swallowed, wondering why she was poking the wound. “No.”
“She picked Finn to donate sperm because he was someone she knew and trusted. She wanted her children to be gentle and funny and kind, just like him.”
I blinked back fresh tears, this time of genuine happiness for Lizzie. “She chose well.”
“So did I,” Jill teased, although she had the grace to add, “Despite being guilty of thinking bad things about Finn to start with. He’s not bad. But we both know that Danny is.”
I nodded. There was no arguing with that.
“So it’s okay to be jealous of Lizzie. But while you’re focusing attention on her, maybe you can take a lesson from her as well. Think about the sort of man you want your children to be like. What traits do you value?”
Husband Stay (Husband #2) Page 9
