Stirred with Love
Page 28
Her mind came back to the task in hand as Russ got into his stride and she looked up at him. Russ Wheldon was a good looking bloke. In his day, he’d been the proverbial tall, dark and handsome but age had taken away his hair and added a few weather worn lines. Even so, he kept himself fit, not looking a day over twenty eight when in reality he was pushing thirty six.
Russ had been the school heart throb. Sam had thought he was cool from the minute she’d noticed him hanging around with her friend Leah’s brother, Ryan. One night, the two of them had sneaked into the local pub all eyeliner and lip gloss to make them look eighteen when they’d barely reached sweet sixteen and Sam got chatting to him. She’d known him for as long as she could remember, but hadn’t really spoken to him until then. Now, she couldn’t remember a time when Russ Wheldon hadn’t been around.
Russ wasn’t looking at her now. His head was turned slightly to the side, his eyes closed. Sam wondered if he was imagining she was someone else too.
She still had her t-shirt on. She grimaced, closing her eyes as well. Where was the fun in that? Now if she was with Dan Wilshaw, she would be completely naked. He would have sat her up on his lap and lifted the t-shirt up and off her, throwing it across the room where it would land on the carpet in a heap. Sam imagined him gazing at her, mesmerising her, his fingers moving over her, around her, inside her. A moan escaped her lips. Holding her breath, she opened an eye but Russ was too engrossed in pleasuring himself to notice.
She closed her eye and relaxed back into her fantasy. Dan Wilshaw was taking his time with her. She imagined his hands – no cracks and rough skin on them – running up and down the length of her body, stopping at the point of desire. His tongue flitted over her chest and moved slowly, achingly slowly, down.
‘Oh, god, nearly there,’ Russ rudely interrupted her thoughts, bringing her back to earth again with a crash. Suddenly, she felt the full force of his last few thrusts and then it was all over. For another week.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t love Russ anymore. She did, there was no doubt about that. But lately, something wasn’t working. She didn’t know whether it was the fact he was away during the week and she’d settled down to much of a single life or if it had prolonged things because of that. Russ was a steady, reliable guy and not everyone could keep the passion alive for so many years, surely?
Wondering how long she could wait before she wriggled to get him to move, she gazed out of the window. By the amount of light that was coming through the curtains, it looked like another cold but sunny day out there. She could feel his breathing slowing down. Any moment now she’d be able to…she stretched a leg. That should do it.
‘Right then.’ Russ kissed her lightly on the forehead before jumping off the bed. ‘I’d better get up. I’m meeting Mark for a run before I head back to Sheffield. I reckon a ten miler is on the cards today.’
It took all of Sam’s strength to smile. But she needn’t have bothered, because Russ wouldn’t have noticed anyway. Despite her waning feelings, it had been a long time since Russ had noticed anything that Sam did – or said for that matter. Sex was the same every time with Russ when he came home at the weekends. It was like paint by numbers but without the paint. She’d be pussy footing around all Saturday trying to avoid his advances but knowing that she had to perform once before he left. Once was always enough.
But since Dan Wilshaw arrived on the scene, Sam’s sex drive had come back. It wasn’t fair, she really liked Dan but he was off limits. Sam and Russ were married, had been for the past fourteen years, would be for the next fifty or so, she presumed. Childhood sweethearts, they’d married when she was twenty. And, even if she wasn’t sure that she loved him anymore, she wouldn’t cheat on him. Would she?
Sam pulled the duvet over her head to block out the day. Already, she was counting down the hours until Russ would be leaving. Two thirty after lunch, he’d pick up his bag full of freshly washed clothes that she’d ironed while watching boring Saturday night television after eating a takeaway.
Where were they heading, her and Russ?
Maybe she should go to the Anne Summers party that she’d heard one of the stall holders organising and buy a rampant rabbit.
Or maybe she should just get Dan Wilshaw out of her system once and for all.