HER SECRET HUSBAND

by Andrea Laurence

  The hot water ran over their bodies as they touched and tasted each other. Most of the clay was gone now, the faint gray stream of water no longer circling the drain. Their hair was soaking wet, with fat drops of water falling into his eyes as he hovered over her chest. It was getting hard to breathe between the water in his face and the steam in his lungs, but he refused to let go of Julianne long enough to change anything.

  A rush of cold air suddenly hit his back as Julianne tugged at his wet shirt. She pulled it over his head and flung it onto the bathroom floor with a wet thwump.

  “I thought you were tired of me running around without my shirt on,” he said with a grin.

  “You said it was okay in the shower, remember?”

  “That I did.” Leaning down, he did the same with her top and her shorts. She was completely exposed to him now, her body a delight for his eyes that had gone so long without gazing upon it. He wanted to take his time, to explore every inch and curve of her, but Julianne wasn’t having it. She tugged him back against her, hooking her leg around his hip.

  Lifting her into his arms once again, he pressed her back into the corner of the shower, one arm around her waist to support her, the other hand planted firmly on her outer thigh. The hot spray was now running over his back and was no longer on the verge of drowning them.

  Julianne’s hands reached between them, her fingers finding the waistband of his boxers and pushing them down. He wasn’t wearing anything beneath. Without much effort, she’d pushed the shorts low on his hips and exposed him. He expected her to touch him then, but instead, she stiffened slightly in his arms.

  “Heath?”

  Julianne’s voice was small, competing with the loud rush of the shower and the heavy panting of their breaths, but he heard her. He stopped, his hands mere inches from the moist heat between her thighs.

  She wasn’t changing her mind again, was she? He wasn’t sure he could take that a second time. “Yes?”

  “Before we...” Her voice trailed off. Her golden brown lashes were dark and damp, but still full enough to hide her eyes from him. “I don’t want to tell anyone about us. This. Not yet.”

  Heath tried not to let the hard bite of her words affect him. She kept insisting she wasn’t embarrassed of him and yet she repeatedly went out of her way to prove otherwise. He wanted to ask why. To push her for more information, but this wasn’t exactly the right moment to have an in-depth relationship discussion. What was he going to say? He was wedged between her thighs, his pants shoved low on his hips. Now was not the time to disagree with her. At least not if he ever wanted to sleep with his wife.

  “Okay,” he agreed and her body relaxed. He waited only a moment before sliding his hand the rest of the way up her thigh. His fingers found her slick and warm, her loud cry more evidence that she wanted him and was ready to have him at last. He grazed over her flesh, moving in sure, firm strokes, effectively ending the conversation.

  Julianne arched her back, pressing her hips hard into his hand and crying out. Her worries of a moment ago vanished and he intended to plow full steam ahead before she changed her mind, this time for good.

  Heath braced her hips in his hands, lifting her up, and then stopping just as he pushed against the entrance to her body. He didn’t want to move at this snail’s pace; he wanted to dive hard and fast into her, but a part of him kept waiting for her to stop him. He clenched his jaw, praying for self-control and the ability to pull away when she asked.

  “Yes, Heath,” she whispered. “Please. We’ve waited this long, don’t make me wait any longer.”

  Heath eased his hips forward and before he knew it, he was buried deep inside her. That realization forced his eyes closed and his body stiff as a shudder of pleasure moved through him. Pressing his face into her shoulder, he reveled in the long-awaited sensation of Julianne’s welcoming heat wrapped around him.

  How many years, nights, days, had he fantasized about the moment that had been stolen away from him? And now he had her at last. He almost couldn’t believe it. It was the middle of the night. Maybe this was all just some wild dream. There was only one way to test it.

  Withdrawing slowly, he thrust hard and quick, drawing a sharp cry from her and a low growl of satisfaction from his own throat. He could feel Julianne’s fingers pressing insistently into his back, the muscles of her sex tightening around him. He was most certainly awake. And there was no more reason to hold back.

  Heath gripped her tightly, leaning in to pin her securely to the wall. And then he moved in her. What started as a slow savoring of her body quickly morphed into a fierce claiming. Julianne clung to him, taking everything he had to give and answering his every thrust with a roll of her hips and a gasp of pleasure.

  Everything about this moment felt so incredibly right. It wasn’t romantic or sweet. It was fierce and raw, but that was what it needed to be. After eleven years of waiting...eleven years of other lovers who never quite met the standard Julianne had set. He was like a starving man at a buffet. He couldn’t get enough of her fast enough to satiate the need that had built in him all these years.

  Yet even as he pumped into her, his mind drifted to that night—the night they should have shared together in Gibraltar. They should have been each other’s first. It would have been special and important and everything he’d built up in his mind. Instead, he’d given it up to some sorority girl whose name he barely remembered anymore. He didn’t know who Julianne finally chose to be her first lover, but even all these years later, he was fiercely jealous of that man for taking what he felt was his.

  He was going to make himself crazy with thoughts like that. To purge his brain, he sought out her mouth. He focused on the taste of her, instead. The slide of her tongue along his own. The sharp edge of her teeth nipping at him. The hollow echo of her cries inside his head.

  His fingers pressed harder into the plump flesh of her backside, holding her as he surged forward, pounding relentlessly into her body. Julianne tore her mouth from his. The faster he moved, the louder Julianne’s gasps of “yes, yes” were in his ear. He lost himself in pleasure, feeling her body tense and tighten around him as she neared her release.

  When she started to shudder in his arms, he eased back and opened his eyes. He wanted to see this moment and remember it forever. Her head was thrown back and her eyes closed. Her mouth fell open, her groans and gasps escalating into loud screams. “Heath, yes, Heath!” she shouted.

  It was the most erotic sound he’d ever heard. The sound went straight to his brain, the surge of his own pleasure shooting down his spine and exploding into his own release. He poured into her, his groans mixing with hers and the roar of the pounding water.

  At last, he thought as he reached out to turn off the water. He’d waited years for this moment and it was greater than he ever could have anticipated.

  Seven

  He signed them.

  Well, if that wasn’t the cherry on top, Julianne didn’t know what was. She didn’t know exactly when it happened, but as she sat down at the kitchen table the next morning, she noticed the divorce papers were out of the envelope. She flipped through the bound pages to the one tabbed by her attorney. There she found Heath’s signature, large and sharply scrawled across the page beside yesterday’s date.

  Well, at least he had signed it before they had sex.

  That didn’t make her feel much better, though. She had already woken up feeling awkward about what happened between them. She’d crept out of his bed as quietly as she could and escaped to the safety of downstairs.

  Their frantic lovemaking in the middle of the night certainly wasn’t planned. Or well-thought-out. It also wasn’t anything she intended to repeat. He’d caught her in a vulnerable moment. Somehow, at 3:00 a.m., all the reasons it seemed like a bad idea faded away. Well, they were all back now. Eleven years’ worth of reasons, starting with why they’d never had sex in the first place and ending with that phone call to his “sweetheart” the other night. They weren’t
going to be together. Last night was a one-time thing.

  But even then, coming downstairs and finding their signed divorce papers on the table felt like a slap across the face somehow.

  This was why she’d asked him to keep this all a secret. There was no sense in drawing anyone else into the drama of their relationship when the odds were that it would all be over before long. No matter what happened between them last night, they were heading for a divorce. He’d said that he didn’t want a divorce, he wanted her to choose. Apparently that wasn’t entirely true. For all his sharp accusations, he seemed to want to have his cake and eat it as well.

  With a sigh, she sipped her coffee and considered her options. She could get upset, but that wouldn’t do much good. She was the one who had the papers drawn up, albeit as a result of his goading. She couldn’t very well hold a grudge against him for signing them after she’d had them overnighted to the house.

  As she did when she got stuck on one of her sculptures, she decided it was best to sit back and try to look at this situation from a different angle. She and Heath were getting a divorce. It was a long time coming and nothing was going to change that now. With that in mind, what did sleeping with Heath hurt? She’d always wanted him. He’d always wanted her. Their unfinished wedding night had been like a dark cloud hovering overhead for the last eleven years.

  When she thought about it that way, perhaps it was just something they needed to do. Things might be a little awkward between them, but they hadn’t exactly been hunky-dory before.

  Now that they’d gotten it out of their system, they could move forward with clear heads. But move forward into what? The divorce seemed to be a hot-button issue. Once that was official and they stopped fighting, what would happen? There was a chemistry between them that was impossible to deny. Now that they’d crossed the line, she imagined that it would be hard not to do it again.

  What if they did?

  Julianne wasn’t sure. It didn’t seem like the best idea. And yet, she wasn’t quite ready to give it up. Last night had been...amazing. Eleven years in the making and worth the wait. It made her angry. It was bad enough that Tommy had attacked her and she had the shadow of his death on her conscience. But the impact had been so long-lasting. What if her wedding night with Heath had gone the way it should have? What if they’d been able to come home and tell their parents and be together? She felt like even long after he was dead, Tommy had taken not only her innocence, but also her future and happiness with Heath.

  Back in college when her mind went down into this dark spiral, her therapist would tell her she couldn’t change the past. All she could do was guide her future. There was no sense dwelling on what had happened. “Accept, acknowledge and grow” was her therapist’s motto.

  Applied to this instance, she had to accept that she’d had sex with Heath. She acknowledged that it was amazing. To grow, she needed to decide if she wanted to do it again and what the consequences would be. Why did there have to be negative consequences? It was just sex, right? They could do it twice or twenty times, but if she kept that in perspective, things would be fine. It didn’t mean anything, at least not to her. Since he had signed the divorce papers first, she’d have to assume he felt the same way.

  In fact... Julianne reached for the divorce decree and the pen lying there. She turned back to the flagged page and the blank line for her signature. With only a moment’s hesitation, she put her pen to the paper and scrawled her signature beside his.

  “See?” she said aloud to the empty room. “It didn’t mean anything.”

  There. It was done. All she had to do was drop it back in the mail to her lawyer. She shoved the paperwork back in the envelope and set it aside. For a moment, there was the euphoria of having the weight of their marriage lifted from her shoulders. It didn’t last long, however. It was quickly followed by the sinking feeling of failure in her stomach.

  With a groan, she pushed away her coffee. She needed to get out of the bunkhouse. Running a few errands would help clear her mind. She could stop by the post office and mail the paperwork, pick up a few things at the store and go by the hospital to see Dad. Her kiln wouldn’t be delivered until later in the afternoon, so why not? Sitting around waiting for Heath to wake up felt odd. There was no reason to make last night seem more important than it was. She would treat it like any other hookup.

  She found it was a surprisingly sunny and warm day for early October. That wouldn’t last. The autumn leaves on the trees were past their prime and would drop to the ground dead before long. They’d have their first snow within a few weeks, she was certain.

  She took advantage of the weather, putting the top down on her convertible. There would still be a cold sting to her cheeks, but she didn’t mind. She wanted the wind in her hair. Pulling out of the drive, she headed west for the hospital. With all the work on her studio, she hadn’t been to see her father for a couple days. Now was a good time. Molly’s car was at the house, so Dad was alone and they could chat without other people around. Even though her father didn’t—and couldn’t—know the details of what was bothering her, he had a calming effect on her that would help.

  She checked in at the desk to see what room he was in now that he was out of intensive care, and then headed up to the fourth floor. Ken was sitting up when she arrived, watching television and poking at his food tray with dismay.

  “Morning, Dad.”

  A smile immediately lit his face. He was a little thinner and he looked tired, but his color was better and they’d taken him off most of the monitors. “Morning, June-bug. You didn’t happen to bring me a sausage biscuit, did you?”

  Julianne gave him a gentle hug and sat down at the foot of his bed. “Dad, you just had open-heart surgery. A sausage biscuit? Really?”

  “Well...” He shrugged, poking at his food again. “It’s better than this stuff. I don’t even know what this is.”

  Julianne leaned over his tray. “It looks like scrambled egg whites, oatmeal, cantaloupe and dry toast.”

  “It all tastes like wallpaper paste to me. No salt, no sugar, no fat, no flavor. Why did they bother saving me, really?”

  Julianne frowned. “You may not like it, but you’ve got to eat healthier. You promised me you’d live to at least ninety and I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain.”

  Ken sighed and put a bite of oatmeal in his mouth with a grimace. “I’m only doing this for your sake.”

  “When do you get to come home? I’m sure Mom’s version of healthy food will be better tasting.”

  “Tomorrow, thank goodness. I’m so relieved to skip the rehab facility. You and I both know it’s really a nursing home. I might be near death, but I’m not ready for that, yet.”

  “I’m glad. I didn’t want you there, either.”

  “Your mother says that you and Heath are both staying in the bunkhouse.”

  “Yes,” she said with a curt nod. She didn’t dare elaborate. The only person who could read her better than Heath was her dad. He would pick up on something pretty easily.

  “How’s that going? You two haven’t spent that much time together in a long while. You were inseparable as kids.”

  Julianne shrugged. “It’s been fine.” She picked up the plastic pitcher of ice water and poured herself a glass. Driving with the top down always made her thirsty. “I think we’re both getting a feel for one another again.”

  “You know,” he said, putting his spoon back down on his tray, “I always thought you two might end up together.”

  The water in her mouth shot into different directions as she sputtered, some going into her lungs, some threatening to shoot out her nose. She set the cup down, coughing furiously for a few moments until her eyes were teary and her face was red.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Went down the wrong way,” she whispered between coughs. “I’m fine. Sorry. What, uh...what makes you say something like that?”

  “I don’t know. You two always seemed to complemen
t each other nicely. Neither of you seem to be able to find the right person. I’ve always wondered if you weren’t looking in the wrong places.”

  This was an unexpected conversation. She wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to it. “Looking in the family is frowned on, Dad.”

  “Oh, come on,” he muttered irritably. “You’re not related. You never even lived in the same house, really. It’s more like falling for the boy next door.”

  “You don’t think it would be weird?”

  “Your mother and I want to see you and Heath happy. If it turns out you’re happy together, then that’s the way it is.”

  “What if it didn’t work out? It’s not like I can just change my number and pretend Heath doesn’t exist after we break up.”

  Ken frowned and narrowed his eyes at her. “Do you always go into your relationships figuring out how you’ll handle it when they end? That’s not very optimistic.”

  “No, but it’s practical. You’ve seen my track record.”

  “I have. Your mother told me the last one didn’t end well.”

  He didn’t know the half of it. “Why would dating Heath be any different? I mean, if he were even remotely interested, and I’m certain he’s not.”

  Her father’s blue-gray eyes searched her face for a moment, then he leaned back against the pillows. “I remember when you were little and you came home from school one day all breathless with excitement. You climbed into my lap and whispered in my ear that you’d kissed a boy on the playground. You had Heath’s name doodled all over the inside of your unicorn notebook.”

  “Dad, I was nine.”

  “I know that. And I was twelve when I first kissed your mother at the junior high dance. I knew then that I was going to be with her for the rest of my life. I just had to convince her.”