Emma stood frozen, not quite believing what she was hearing.
“Oh wow, like how?” The girl asked, leaning in, displaying a ripe bikini-clad bosom.
Rosco appeared oblivious to the proffered boobs; his gaze drifted over the waves, narrowing as he saw a surfer slip into a clean barrel.
“I don’t know. It’s just who she is. She shows me what’s important. Love and family. Not the trophies, not the wins, but her, and my boy.”
I do that?
A lump grew in Emma’s throat, choking her.
“She must be the luckiest woman in the world.” The girl sounded wistful.
For another moment, Emma remained breathlessly still.
“She’s mine, and I’m hers, it’s how it’s always been, and it’s how I always want it.” He shrugged and took a deep breath. “I hope you find that one day, because there’s nothing like it.”
The pretty girl appeared to wilt, realising her flirtations would never be reciprocated. “Yeah,” she sighed.
Finally Emma found her voice. “Hey,” she said, huskily.
Both Rosco and the girl jumped at her unexpected appearance.
“Em,” Rosco smiled, his surprise turning to wariness. “This is Kelsey. She works up at the surf club kiosk.”
“Hi,” Emma replied, looking her over once more. “Emma.” She stretched out a hand to shake.
Gingerly the girl reached over and took it, looking as if she wanted to run away and hide. “Uh, pleased to meet you.”
“Yes, you too,” Emma replied, vaguely surprised to realise she meant it.
She shared a look with Rosco. His expression was uncertain—as if he thought she might attack the girl. Once, she might have, but now, after hearing what Rosco had said, the raging jealousy just wasn’t there…
“It’s lunchtime,” she said.
Rosco coughed. “Okay, well, uh, see you Kelsey. Good luck.” Rosco turned, picking up his board.
The girl gave a disappointed wave and began to trudge back down the beach.
Together Rosco and Emma began to walk up the beach track.
Emma’s pulse raced, absurdly touched and amazed by the words Rosco had spoken when he didn’t know she was listening.
After a moment, she spoke. “I can’t believe you said that…”
Rosco sighed and stiffened. “Jesus. What did I say this time?” There was a sad air of resignation in his tone and he scratched his neck nervously.
Abruptly, Emma pulled him to a standstill, her hand tight around the neoprene of his wetsuit.
“That I keep you grounded,” she faded off.
Rosco stopped and turned, his blue eyes widening. “You’re not jealous because I was talking to that girl?”
“I was, but I’m not now. Not after hearing what you said. Did you mean it?”
“Of course I fucking meant it.”
Tears began to burn in her eyes, and the lump regrew in her throat.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me before?”
Rosco’s big blue eye grew incredulous. “I have told you, heaps of times. You just never listened.”
The lump in her throat grew bigger.
“Maybe I just had to hear you say it to someone else to get it through my thick skull.” Emma gave a laugh that grew into a sob. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been so horrible since Hawaii and since that doctor said…”
“Shhh. Don’t be sorry, it’s been tough. I get it.” Rosco leaned in and took her lips gently with his.
I love this man. The words echoed through her head, and her heart swelled with affection. She brought her lips to his ear and whispered the only thing she could. “I’m so going to make this up to you…”
They walked in silence up the sand track back to the house.
Since she’d been given the news about the IVF, she’d been tearing herself apart with self-loathing, attacking Rosco at every turn, and yet still he loved her.
Amazing.
They keyed open the gate to the garden, and before he could say or do anything, Emma took his surfboard and rested it on the grass, before taking his hand and all but dragging him to the downstairs bathroom.
She opened door and pulled him in.
The granite was cool on her feet, and sent a frisson of excitement through her body.
“What are you doing?” Rosco asked, looking at her perplexedly.
“I’m helping you get your wetsuit off and then I’m going to fuck you senseless.” She said, her fingers curling around the fabric of the wetsuit to peel down the material. Inch by squeaking inch his back was revealed to her. Golden, slightly lined by the tight wetsuit, she kissed it, and licked the salt from her lips.
She’d always loved the taste of him after surfing.
“What about Bodhi?” he asked, a small groan slipping from his throat.
“Bodhi is with Ms Samson. Don’t worry, they won’t come down here.”
Methodically, Emma began to peel the wetsuit down his arms, revealing the golden hair that covered his powerful forearms. Tentatively, she ran a finger down the line of his muscle, stirring the hair as she went.
“You really are very beautiful,” she whispered, catching his eye.
“Em…you don’t have to do this,” he said, his voice taking on a note of longing.
“Shhhh,” she murmured, pulling his hands from the tight wetsuit and bringing one to her mouth.
Slowly and deliberately she kissed each finger, her lips lingering over his wedding band. He sighed gently under his breath.
Holding his gaze steadily, Emma turned his hand around, facing his palm up and kissing it tenderly.
She knew that every month with this hand, he had wiped away her tears when IVF had failed. It was this same hand that had stroked her to the heights of pleasure, and held her until she fell asleep. It was with this hand he’d taken hers and held it for eleven years.
She swore softly under her breath.
She’d been so blind lately. The infertility hurt him too; she’d forgotten or ignored that.
It was going to stop now, today.
Gently Emma lowered his hand, and continued removing the wetsuit. The muscles of his chest flexed she peeled it down lower, over his abdomen and down his legs. Finally she knelt and pulled it from his feet.
For a moment they remained like that, Emma in her hoodie and shorts, he clad only in wet underpants. His cock was already stiff and straining against the material.
A smile tugged at her lips.
“Eager as ever, aren’t you?”
“Uh, how could I not be? My sexy wife is on her knees about to suck me off. That’d make any man eager.”
Emma laughed and brought her hand to his underpants and pulled them down. Freed of the damp cloth, his cock lunged forward, thick and strong.
“I love your cock,” she whispered, and touched it. It was like living silk under her fingers, still cool from the damp of his clothes but warming quickly beneath her hand. Her mouth began to moisten as she found herself wanting to suck him.
“I think it loves you too, and better yet, so does the man attached to it.”
She grinned up at him. Depositing a swift kiss on its rosy knob, she pulled away.
“Hold that thought, I’ve got to get out of these clothes.”
Her pussy was throbbing. Her clothes were an irritation.
Rosco’s heavy-lidded gaze caught hers as she stood and began quickly stripping. There was no grace, no flashy seductive disrobing. Pure need drove her, pulling clothes off and discarding them on the floor.
Finally, the warm air circulating on her naked body, she knelt before her husband again and leaned forward.
The stone floor was cool in contrast to the suddenly hot flesh in her mouth.
“Christ,” he moaned. “Maybe I should boast about you to random chicks on the beach more often.”
“Mmmhmmm,” she responded, her mouth full of his dick. He was salty from the seawater. Her salivary glands went into overdrive as she pushed him deeper
into her mouth.
He moaned and thrust experimentally forwards, burying his hands in her hair.
Emma’s body was screaming for sex; her nipples ached and her pussy seeped with arousal, but she ignored her own desire. She wanted to thank her husband and worship him with her mouth a just a bit longer.
Rosco thrust into her mouth and Emma brought up a hand to angle his shaft better whilst she stroked and teased his tight cool balls.
He moved again, slipping as much of his cock into her mouth as she could take. His hips flexed and surprised her, but she continued rhythmically milking his shaft with her mouth and hand. The sounds of Rosco’s moans grew. She looked up to find he was gazing down at her, his curly blond hair cascading down around his face, and his lower lip caught between bright white teeth.
“Nah, I’ve got to fuck you,” he growled and suddenly pulled her to a stand. She slipped a little in surprise on the granite, but he caught her and pulled her to his chest.
“Against the wall,” she moaned, her sex pulsing and screaming for his attention.
With an aggression that surprised her, she found herself pushed against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall.
“Hands up, and spread them,” Rosco growled in her ear.
Excitement thrilled through Emma’s entire body at his words, and her breath caught in her chest, but she did as he requested. Placing her cheek against the wall with her hands high above her on the tiles and spreading her legs wide she waited for him.
Rosco, however, did not leap in and impale her straight away as she had suspected and hoped he might. Instead she felt him kneel behind her.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
A hand, deft and skilled, slipped between her legs.
“Oh,” she moaned, as the same hand began to slide deeper into her core. It tested her, stretching her and dancing over her clit.
Emma became that place between her legs; there were no more coherent thoughts as Rosco’s hand played her like a musical instrument. Her body moved from pleasure to even greater pleasure. Instinctively, she bucked against his hand, her pussy tightening around his penetrating fingers.
Words caught in her throat as her body suddenly spasmed, but her pussy clenched around nothing. For a moment she was bereft, frozen in a semi-orgasmic limbo, until she felt herself rent wide by Rosco’s hard hot cock.
The relief was dizzying.
Her pussy clenched around the hot wide length of him and she fell over the edge.
Intense pleasure washed over her like a scalding tide.
This was what she wanted, this was what they needed. As she convulsed and came around him, Rosco pumped into her from behind, his hips hammering into her buttocks whilst his cock buried itself repeatedly into her core.
“Emma,” he cried. “Oh, Emma.”
He came in a rush. She could feel his cock pulsing and pumping deep inside her and as it did he rocked against her, moaning her name over and over.
For the first time in what seemed like an awfully long time, she felt at one with her husband again.
Emma wasn’t quite sure how long they remained locked together, Rosco’s cock occasionally pulsing in her, as they stayed pressed against the tiles of the bathroom, but she knew, when he finally pulled away, that it must have been some time.
As his cock left her, she moved to stand closed-legged, but her body didn’t seem to respond. As if sensing she had reached her limit, Rosco reached for her again.
“Come here,” he said.
Gentle, hot hands grasped her upper arms, and slowly she began to turn around, her legs trembling. Only then Emma realised her cheek had been pressed hard against the wall during their furious lovemaking. Her skin peeled away from the tiles—bit by bit. The sensation was almost therapeutic. It was as if she’d been pressed against an emotional wall for a long time, and now finally she could peel away, leaving the hurt and failures behind.
Emma inhaled shakily and looked up to find Rosco watching her; a golden Adonis, so beautiful it made her heart ache. His broad shoulders were relaxed, and edges of his lips upturned.
“Christ, I’ve missed you,” he whispered, and kissed her head gently.
They showered after that, talking about general things, both knowing that some hurdle had been overcome, neither quite willing to test it yet. Until, as she was slipping into her discarded clothes, she took a deep breath and said, “We need to talk about schools for Bodhi.”
Rosco froze mid stride.
“What did you say?” he croaked.
He turned to face her, his eyes wide.
“I’ve been thinking a lot since yesterday.” Emma swallowed. “You and I both know Bo needs to go to an ordinary school, so I think… I think…” The words didn’t really want to come again. Hysterical panic rose dark and looming in her mind. “I think we should go and look into it,” she repeated in a rush.
Rosco grinned, and rushed towards her, swinging her in his arms before putting her down once more. “Absolutely!” he enthused. “The new school year has only just begun, and if we are serious about it, we should find a school as soon as possible.”
A hot spasm of fear shot through her chest, and her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t speak, so instead she nodded slowly. Rosco gave her a searching look.
“God, you’re amazing,” he whispered and gently this time, he leaned down and took her lips with his. The kiss was deep and passionate and flushed away any remnant of panic. She didn’t need to worry about Rosco’s fidelity, she never had to, she just hadn’t realised it until now. After hearing him with the girl on the beach, her mind seemed clearer. When the kiss broke, Emma smiled.
“Well, why don’t we go out for tea tonight and talk about it with him. I’m sure he’ll have some thoughts on the matter.”
Rosco’s eyes grew incredulous, but his face split with a grin. “Fantastic, I’ll go and tell him.”
With that, her husband pulled on a pair of boardies and disappeared, bounding up the stairs to find their son.
That night, they took Bodhi out to dinner and talked about schools, and listened to his preferences. The discussion had somewhat destroyed Emma’s appetite, but Rosco held her hand and she’d forged on.
Baby steps, she reminded herself.
When she got home, Bodhi headed to bed with a swagger and a smile and Rosco and Emma sat down at the kitchen bench.
“That went well. I’m proud of you.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“What’s this?” he asked suddenly, picking at the menu that lay as she’d left it.
“Oh, the menu options for the dinner. It’s so hard to choose, the girls can get so bitchy about food.” She sighed.
“I’ll do it, and you can blame me if they hate it,” Rosco said, tucking his hair behind his ear and frowning at the list. “What about the surf and turf for main?”
Emma looked at him, her lip twisting, and ran her hands over the smooth cotton of his shirt. “Er… No. Don’t worry about it, I’ll call Meagan and talk about it.”
Rosco turned and looked at her. “You haven’t spoken to her in months.”
More like years… The thought was guilty.
“I know, but I want to make up for that too.”
Rosco’s eyes lightened. “That’s great.”
“She knows all the right things to serve that the girls will love. Well, except Lana. Lana complains about everyone’s food.”
Rosco laughed, and turned and kissed her.
“Look, I’m going to call Meagan now, and I want you to go up to bed and wait for me.”
Rosco raised an eyebrow. “Twice in one day? My baby’s back.” He purred and made for a sneaky grab.
Emma laughed, falling into his arms to run her hands through his hair before kissing him thoroughly. “Twice, thrice, I’m an animal when it comes to you.”
“Don’t I fucking know it.”
They kissed, long and hard. Eventually, Emma pushed him away, breathless, her body surgi
ng with re-arousal.
“Go. Let me make this phone call before I chicken out and find something much more pleasurable to do.”
With another grin and wink, Rosco stood and offered her a bow, his long hair sweeping through the air as he did.
Emma watched Rosco leap up the stairs, taking two at a time, his sexy arse clad in cargo pants all but begging her to run up and pinch it.
She stemmed the urge to give chase, and glanced at her watch. It read just past nine. If Meagan was working she should have finished in the kitchen.
Picking up her phone, she looked under Contacts and pulled up her number.
Emma worried at her lip. How would Meagan take a sudden phone call from her? Rosco was right, she’d avoided Meagan since she’d gotten pregnant with her second child.
Hot guilt roiled in her belly.
As a result of Emma’s neglect, Meagan had grown closer to Jorja, and well, Jorja wasn’t Emma’s favourite person.
She bit her lip again.
What if Meagan hung up on her? What if she told her to get lost?
Emma’s finger hovered over the call button.
No, Meagan wouldn’t hang up on me, she rationalised. They’d only just seen each other at Christa’s dinner party and Meagan had been most civil.
She pressed the call button before the screen faded to black.
It picked up in two rings.
“Emma?” Meagan’s tone was raised and curious.
“Hey,” Emma said, “How are you?”
“Er, fine, you?” Meagan replied.
There was a terribly silent and awkward moment.
“I’m okay, actually,” she said, realising it was true.
Her infertility and failed IVF attempts weren’t something she’d discussed with any of her friends, though she suspected they all knew about it.
“Great,” Meagan replied, and hesitated again, waiting for Emma to say something more.
“Look, I know we haven’t spoken lately, and I’m sorry about that. I’ve… I’ve…” she faded off, unsure how to finish.
“I’ve been busy too,” Meagan added helpfully.
Relief like warm water flooded through Emma and she let out a sigh she hadn’t known she’d been suppressing. “Yes, very busy,” Emma found herself agreeing. “Look, I’ve got no idea what to get the caterer to do for my dinner in February and you know how picky everyone can be. Last time was pretty much a disaster, which I’d rather not repeat. Could you give me a few suggestions?”
Secret Confessions: Sydney Housewives - Extended Edition Page 27
