Secret Confessions: Down & Dusty – Brooke

by Eden Summers

  ‘Uh-huh.’ His smile turned sly. ‘I remember how wet you were.’

  Her pussy contracted. He wasn’t talking about her clothes, or her saturated skin. Before he arrived, she’d been trembling, her limbs heavy from the shock of how easily she could’ve been pinned under the water by a vehicle she wouldn’t have been able to push off herself.

  Heath had dashed toward her, not a care for his boots or clothing, and picked her up off the rocky creek bed to place her down in the dry dirt. Nothing had calmed her. Not his soothing words, or his strong hold. The only thing capable of snapping her from the seriousness of the situation had been his kiss. A harsh melding of lips and tongue that stole her focus and had her clinging to him for reasons other than shock.

  ‘I was drenched.’ She bit her lower lip and pressed her thighs together to fight the desire to relive the past.

  Their kiss had turned into lust, lust into passion. He’d carried her again, this time to his ute parked under the shade of an old gum tree. With the scorching sun filtering through the leaves, he’d stripped her bare, checking her body for injuries before taking their secret affair to the next level.

  Heavy footfalls approached from outside, and Rowan’s bulky frame drove away the bliss of her lost virginity. ‘I thought we were drinking?’

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ Connor muttered. ‘But it seems these two have more to catch up on than I would’ve thought.’

  Another warning. Another threat for Heath to back off and stop hinting to a past that her over-protective brothers wouldn’t approve of.

  ‘Yeah, well, we’ve gotta go meet Clarissa. She finished fencing today and wants to drop off the wire spinner. I’m gonna meet her at the gate and chew her out for not waiting for our help.’

  Connor nodded and started for the sliding door. ‘You coming, Heath?’

  Her brother paused, glancing over his shoulder as Rowan slid the door back open.

  ‘Nah.’ Heath kept his attention on her, never faltering, never wavering. ‘I’ve gotta use the facilities. I’ll see you when you get back.’

  Underlying tension entered the room. She was waiting for that moment. The one where her brothers puffed out their chests and demanded a quiet word with their friend. It didn’t come. Yet the cautionary glare was in their eyes. They glanced at each other, then at Heath, and finally rested their focus on her, as if testing her judgement to be left alone with someone capable of impregnating her feeble body.

  ‘Yes?’ she growled. The protective act was old. Too damn old. She was a woman, with bills and responsibilities. A woman with a libido, and breasts, and a pussy that was far from virginal. Why the hell couldn’t they see that?

  ‘We’ll be back in a few,’ Rowan grated in warning.

  Strange. They were actually leaving her alone with a man. A man with a penis. Heaven forbid. Maybe they’d already acted out their barbaric stay-away-from-Brooke routine. Maybe Heath had stated his lack of interest. Either way, she didn’t feel as relieved to be left alone with said penis as she thought she should. Her body had gained a mind of its own, and there was only one thing on its agenda.

  There was another scrutinising look from the barbaric duo, then she was alone. With Heath. Attraction and anticipation crackling between them—the spark invisible, yet emotionally undeniable.

  Harsh footsteps on the back porch faded, a car door slammed, followed by Rowan’s ute purring to life and drifting from earshot. Then silence. Painful, heart-thumping silence.

  Her mind was abuzz. Words of affection were poised on the tip of her tongue, but she’d never let them free. Heath didn’t deserve them, nor would she place herself in that vulnerable position again.

  ‘Finally.’ He pushed from the opposite counter and stalked toward her. ‘I’ve waited years for us to be alone again.’

  ***

  Heath stepped forward, once, twice, forcing her backward into the kitchen counter as he cornered her. ‘Not a day has passed without you running through my mind.’

  ‘Right.’ She couldn’t take her focus from his lips, the soft, tempting flesh she ached to feel pressed against hers. He’d always been her weakness. ‘That would explain the month it took for you to come see me … Oh, wait, you’re not here to see me after all. You’re here for my brothers.’

  She straightened, unable to look at him when he was so close. ‘The pickings are slim around here these days, aren’t they? Did it take a month to realise I’m your best option for getting laid that doesn’t involve farm animals?’

  He rested his hands on either side of her hips, caging her. ‘You’ve always been the only option for me.’

  She released a derisive laugh and tilted her face away, ignoring the way his pelvis inched closer, almost brushing her throbbing abdomen as she sipped the alcoholic cider from her bottle. ‘Well, that’s too bad for you, because I’m off limits.’

  With the cider strengthening her resolve, she turned to him. ‘Rowan and Connor will be back any minute. If they catch you like this—’ she raked her focus down his body, over the muscles that pressed against the thin cotton of his t-shirt, and back to his beautiful eyes, ‘—they’ll make you regret it.’

  ‘I’ve never regretted anything when it comes to you.’

  ‘Even walking away?’ she scoffed, then winced at the question she couldn’t contain. The hardest part of their breakup was seeing him leave without a care. Maybe if he’d shown regret or told her it was killing him as much as it had killed her, then the betrayal wouldn’t have cut so deep. After all these years, the wound was still fresh. Agonising. He was still the only man she’d ever truly wanted.

  He encroached further on her limited space. Now, not just toe to toe, but pelvis to pelvis. ‘University was inevitable. From the day I was born, the whole town knew I’d be taking over the family business and running the property. And the overseas exchange was an opportunity I couldn’t miss. But I always knew I was coming back. I always knew you’d be right here when I returned.’

  Her breathing laboured, becoming sharp and heavy. ‘I didn’t wait for you, if that’s what you think.’

  She hadn’t. She would’ve moved on a million times just to spite the memory of them together. Only the limited men in their tight-knit community didn’t leave her many options. It was even harder when her brothers were willing to murder all those who came calling.

  His chest pressed into hers, his mouth a mere inch away. It was impossible not to lick her lips over the harsh temptation pressing into her. ‘You may not have waited, Brooke, but you can’t deny that you still want me.’

  I never stopped.

  ‘My desires don’t fit into Rowan and Connor’s plan. They won’t care who you are. Or how long you’ve been friends. They’ll hurt you if they see you like this.’ And that was something she couldn’t live with. No matter how much he deserved it for breaking her teenage heart.

  ‘I’ll risk it.’

  He brushed his nose over hers, giving her time to protest the approaching kiss that was already stealing her ability to speak. She was too damn weak to slide away. She wanted him—his taste, his touch. She’d never wanted anything more.

  The soft sweep of his lips tore a whimper from her throat. The clink of his beer bottle against the sink barely registered. His hands found her hips, his tight hold harsh and possessive. He pressed into her, working his thigh between hers, the hard muscle causing delicious friction against her clit as his tongue entered her mouth.

  There was no breath, no words. Nothing but the taste of passion and the sensation of heavenly affection washing over her. She couldn’t get enough. Her hands were in his hair, tugging him closer, demanding more.

  ‘You’re a damn dream, Brooke.’ He spoke into her mouth. ‘I never would’ve imagined I’d come back to a woman as beautiful as you.’

  She wanted to deny his words. To tell him he hadn’t come back to her, he’d just come back in general. But she was too devoted to his lips. Too nauseatingly addicted to the way he made her feel worthwhile when
the threat of her brothers loomed close. No other sober man had been willing to put his dick on the line to be with her. She’d had to wait until they sported the drunken Superman complex and thought they were invincible.

  ‘You still taste the same,’ he whispered. ‘I wonder if it applies to every part of you.’

  Jesus. Her core fluttered in response, the slipperiness of her arousal making her panties excessively wet.

  ‘I can smell you, Brooke. Can almost taste your pussy on my tongue.’

  Did they have time? The drive to the front gate was five minutes max. Add an additional few minutes for conversation. Then the drive home. Christ, she was crazy to even contemplate it. Rowan and Connor had broken fingers over the knowledge of a mere kiss. She didn’t want to think what they’d do if they found Heath’s head between her thighs.

  ‘Don’t worry, sunshine.’ He kissed the side of her lips, her cheek, her jaw. ‘We’ll save that for another day.’

  She groaned.

  ‘See—’ he chuckled against her ear, ‘—I knew you still wanted me.’

  Her needy whimper turned to a scornful growl. ‘There’s a difference between wanting you, and wanting any man in general.’ There was. Her body just didn’t know it.

  ‘Nothing has changed between us.’ He pulled back, holding her in place with the desire flashing in his emerald eyes. ‘Even after all these years, you’re still the one for me. And I sure as hell am the one for you. I knew the moment I saw you.’

  ‘Speak for yourself and leave me out of it. I’m only here to scratch an itch.’ She grasped a hand around his neck, stealing his focus from the lies she’d just voiced.

  She kissed him with everything she had—with all the pain from the past, with all the childish hope she’d given up for their future, and all the yearning she’d felt in between. She was in shock. Stunned by his return and falling into the perfection of his touch.

  Once her brothers returned, he’d do exactly what every other male in town had done. He’d run. He’d hide. He’d deny ever having touched her, for the sake of his relationship with Rowan and Connor.

  The realisation stung, but she kissed it away, tangling her hands in his shirt, scouring the contours of his muscled chest with her palms. His touch drifted under her top, leaving a trail of goosebumps everywhere he brushed, all the way to the curve of her breasts. He lifted the underwire, moulded the flesh in his grasp.

  ‘God, how you’ve changed.’

  Her cheeks heated at the memory of her flat adolescent chest. She’d definitely changed in that regard. Now her body held the curves of a woman—generous hips, round arse, and breasts that would barely be managed by his large hands.

  ‘Heath,’ she whispered. ‘They’ll be back soon.’

  ‘I’ll stop when I’m ready,’ he growled, and flicked his thumbs over her nipples.

  Her hips jerked, and she gasped with each swipe. This wasn’t the boy from her childhood. This was a man. A skilled man. One who sparked optimism in her chest. Would he stand up to her brothers and fight for her? That’s all she’d ever wanted—someone who thought she was worth the risk.

  In the back of her mind, she knew this wouldn’t end well. Her brothers would return and Heath would back away like she was a threat to his safety—which she was. But hope was like an avalanche; once the momentum started, it was impossible to stop.

  ‘I’m so fucking hard for you.’ One of his hands left her breast, delving between them to rub against his crotch. ‘But there’s no time. Fuck.’

  She sighed at the truth in his words and closed her eyes, wishing they were in another place. In another time.

  The sound of a car door slammed in the distance, stopping her heart. She didn’t loosen her hold on his shirt. Couldn’t. There was no way she could push him away. She wanted to hold him closer, to drag him upstairs to her bedroom and make love to him, her brothers’ fury be damned.

  Only Heath left her no choice. He backed away like he’d been awoken from a dream and shattered her longing in an instant. He moved to the other side of the kitchen as he brushed a hand over his lips. ‘Shit,’ he muttered. ‘That wasn’t in the plan.’

  The plan? Well, fuck you, plan. She didn’t know what Heath’s game was, but leaving her shaking with the need for orgasm was unforgivable, especially when they were so hard to come by.

  ‘And what was the plan?’ She glared at him and yanked her shirt back into place.

  Yet again, he’d hurt her. Each time a man dared to deny her brothers’ wishes to leave her alone, whether it be for a kiss or mere conversation, she wondered if he was the one. The lone person to stand up to their intimidating ways and claim her without their approval.

  This kiss, this conversation, and this man, wasn’t the one. He was just like the long list of men who wanted a taste of her, just not at the expense of their health and safety.

  ‘I guess the risk wasn’t worth it.’ Her tone was bitter as she snatched the cider bottle off the counter. ‘I’ll see you around, Heath.’

  ‘It’s not like that. It’s bad timing, that’s all.’

  Maybe, but his tone spoke otherwise. He was ashamed of kissing her—using her—when it was clear he had no intention of standing up to her brothers. His friends.

  ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night.’

  He didn’t reply, only hung his head, the wisps of his blond hair hiding his eyes as she walked away.

  ***

  A week passed. Seven days in which Heath had left voice messages for her on the home phone before every sunset. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to call back. Not when the thought of them together kept her up at night.

  To him, this was a game. A little fun. She was sure of it.

  To her, he was a temptation. Her adolescent dream for the future. Being around him would only cause more heartache.

  So she worked herself to the bone, getting up early to feed the cattle and fix the back fences that had been on Rowan’s to-do list for more than a month. And now she was hiding. Well, hiding her frustration anyway, under the cover of a bottle of wine at the Royal Hotel.

  ‘You look ready to kill someone.’

  ‘Oh, there’s more than one.’ Brooke raised her gaze from her wine glass and met the concern in Lucky’s sapphire-blue eyes. The publican was too observant for her own good. ‘I’ve formed a hit list. It’s growing by the day.’

  The woman raised a brow as she polished the beer glass in her hand. ‘Those brothers of yours causing havoc again?’

  ‘Among others.’

  Lucky gave a solemn nod. ‘I guess having them show up here wouldn’t help much, would it?’ She jerked her chin toward the pub door.

  What? Brooke straightened and shot a glance over her shoulder. Arseholes.

  She’d left the farmhouse the moment Heath’s ute came down her driveway, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake. She refused to spend another Friday night holed up in her bedroom, while the three men who were ruining her life enjoyed drinks around the bonfire.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ She shoved off the stool and glared at her brothers in turn.

  ‘Just gettin’ a drink,’ Rowan drawled.

  ‘And keepin’ an eye on you.’ Connor crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing the men in the room as if they were poised to impregnate her at the first opportunity.

  ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ She enunciated her words with crystal clarity.

  More than one gaze drifted her way as silence consumed the pub. Not that she could see the attention she was getting through the haze of red clouding her vision. ‘When is this going to end? When am I going to get to lead my own life? God forbid I have sex once in a while.’

  Rowan cringed and glanced away, while Connor’s nostrils flared.

  ‘If you think I’m a virgin, you’re sorely mistaken,’ she scolded. ‘Far from it. Just ask your best friend.’

  Oh, god. She hadn’t just said that, had she? Panic unfurled in her belly. She was angry—at her brothers, a
t the legacy of protection her father had left behind, and at Heath too—but not angry enough to ruin the friendship of the three men she still cared about, no matter how much she didn’t want to.

  ‘What did you say?’ Connor’s eyes held a fury she’d never seen before, colouring his cheeks to a dark shade of pink.

  ‘Let it go, Connor.’

  Brooke turned to Rowan in confusion. Why was he trying to defuse the situation? Had he finally begun to learn she had her own life to lead?

  A drunken chuckle from one of the pub regulars echoed over her shoulder, followed by the mutterings of gossip by drinkers out of decipherable earshot. The whoosh of the pub door announced more witnesses to their family feud, and she didn’t care. Not until someone raised their voice to say, ‘Speak of the devil.’

  Her heart fell to her feet as Heath approached, coming to a stop at Rowan’s side. His features were grim, his lips set in a thin line, his brow furrowed. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Apparently, a lot more than you led us to believe.’ Connor shoved him.

  Heath stumbled backward, never taking his gaze from hers. ‘What did you tell them?’

  She swallowed over the razor blades in her throat, unwilling to apologise and unable to tell the truth. She was caught between regret and defiance, heartache and satisfaction.

  ‘Brooke?’

  ‘When were you fucking her?’ Connor demanded. ‘Was it in the last month? Or when we were teenagers, when we treated you like part of the damn family?’

  ‘It’s none of your business.’ Finally, she found her voice. ‘I’m sick to death of this.’

  Heath winced, no longer looking at her, instead taking her brother’s ire head on. ‘We’re not doing this here.’

  ‘I agree.’ Lucky came to Brooke’s side. ‘Take it outside, boys.’

  Without a backward glance, Rowan, Connor and Heath left her standing alone in the middle of the pub, the attention of every person under the roof turning to her as the door shut behind them.