Tumble Creek

by Louise Forster

  ‘Hmm, yes,’ Sofie whispered.

  Holding himself he nudged her entrance. Sofie pushed back, forcing the head in, then slowly Brock rocked his hips forward until he filled her completely. Hands around her hips he began to thrust.

  ‘Oh God!’ Sofie cried out.

  ‘Babe, touch yourself.’ His voice rough, aroused. Without hesitation, she did as he asked. It was the sexiest thing Brock had ever experienced. He let go of her hips and brought his hands and forearms up under her breasts and across her shoulders, pulling her up, her back to his front. Still working deep inside her, one hand played with her nipples while the other pushed down feeling her skin through the valley between her breasts, down her stomach, her belly and then between her thighs, covering her hand with his. He joined her, swirling his finger with hers between her folds and over her clit. And Brock kept up the pace, hips rocking, pumping inside her.

  Sofie, moaning with every breath, told him she was close.

  Mouth in her neck just below her ear, Brock murmured, ‘Close, Babe?’

  ‘Yes … don’t stop. Brock, don’t stop.’

  ‘Give it to me. I want to feel you pulse around me,’ he rumbled against her skin before softly nibbling and tongue-kissing her neck.

  Grinding her hips, she pressed her arse into his groin. With her groan, there it was, Sofie’s orgasm, clutching Brock as he rammed deeper.

  ‘Babe, unbelievable, beautiful.’

  Her body jerked and shuddered. Though her legs gave way, Brock held her up against his front, then eased her down onto the mattress. He turned her around to face him, and fists on the bed he gave her more. Her deep blue eyes, almost luminous in the grey dawn, were locked onto his. ‘Stunning,’ he whispered, not losing eye contact, as he pounded into her, harder faster. ‘You got me,’ he grunted, face in her neck. ‘That was one hell of a wake-up-morning-nookie.’

  Between pants, Sofie said, ‘There’s no doubt, you are the master, the swami-guru of sex.’

  ‘Not without you.’

  ‘Oh, I’m glad to hear that. I should get up, but I can’t move.’ She giggled, but with Brock on top it was more like a wheeze-chuckle.

  He grinned, ‘Might help if I get off.’ He slid out, rolled to her side and out of bed. He held out his hand for her. ‘Come on, let’s clean up.’

  ***

  Sofie was just finishing up on the breakfast crowd. She’d spent her morning making sure everyone had what they wanted as well as making time for Claudia who sat at a table nearest the kitchen, finishing off her homework. Now and then throwing questions at Sofie in the hope she could help. Now and then getting an answer from a workman dropping in for an egg and bacon sandwich to eat on their way to wherever.

  ‘Sometimes, guys are intelligent,’ Claudia stated, looking surprised and waving her pen in the general direction of the front door that was just closing behind a bloke who’d make a comment neither of them could understand.

  ‘He’s on another planet,’ Sofie said, shaking her head as the guy walked past the restaurant windows. ‘Hope he’s not driving or using machinery.’

  ‘He’s probably our bus driver,’ Claudia announced.

  Horrified, Sofie swung back to look at her. ‘Tell me you’re kidding?’

  Claudia rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, Mum. But really they’re interchangeable. Most times their heads are up their own arse, or their brains are in their dicks, or …’ she mumbled, trailing off, probably not knowing where she was going with this now, seeing as there were no more appropriate appendages to use for her critical analysis.

  Sofie dried her hands on a towel, moved to stand by Claudia’s chair, wrapped her arms around her and kissed the top of her head. Then she straightened and lifted Claudia’s face to meet hers. ‘You’ve had a rough start to men and what they’re made of, but believe me your attitude will change.’

  Claudia shook her head. ‘I very much doubt that. Men are very basic. They walk around blinkered and with one thing on their minds … how to get laid.’

  ‘Oh that’s very pessimistic, depressing, and not fair to bundle them all in the same basket.’ Certainly not after what she’d had this morning. Brock was none of the things her daughter believed men were. ‘What about Takumi and what he did for you the other day when Skids and his girlfriend showed up?’

  ‘He’s an exception, and so is Calum, and maybe Brock, though I don’t know him well enough to make an informed opinion.’

  Sofie grinned, took a deep breath so she wouldn’t gush and quietly said, ‘He’s totally exceptional.’

  Claudia pushed her chair back and stood. Then she grabbed Sofie’s shoulders and said, ‘And I’m totally happy for you, Mum.’ She rolled her eyes again, bent down to grab her stuff and shoved it in her school bag.

  Oh crap. That sarcastic reply did not bode well … at all.

  Claudia headed for the door but Sofie called her back. ‘Where’s my kiss?’

  Hand in the process of shoving the door open, Claudia stopped, and gave Sofie an impatient cheesy grin.

  Sofie gave her a deal-with-it-kiddo one back. ‘If I don’t get a kiss, I’ll chase you all the way to the bus and insist on one right there in front of all your friends.’

  Claudia heaved a sigh, as if it took way too much effort, and moved back into the restaurant.

  Sofie met her halfway, kissed her on the cheek and said, ‘Don’t pass judgement so quickly. Okay?’

  Resigned, Claudia mumbled, ‘Okay.’ She swung around and took off down the footpath.

  And Sofie ducked back into the restaurant before more kids arrived, which would embarrass the crap out of Claudia.

  She closed the door only for it to open again. She turned around to greet the breakfast customer and ask them to take a seat anywhere, since the place was empty, but her words dried up in her mouth.

  ***

  ‘Sofie!’ Jett called out, overly bright and overly friendly.

  Seeing her ex-husband’s smug face, rage instantly crawled up from deep within her. She didn’t think she still had that much, but there it was, filling her gut, her chest, crawling like acid right up into her throat, which ached to scream at him so much it was painful. She didn’t say anything for fear of shattering her flimsy layer of control. There he was, the man, the father, that turned his back on their daughter. Claudia had been daddy’s girl, given him all her love and trust. The moment he came home from work, she would squeal, ‘Daddy’s home,’ and rush to the door to fling her thin little arms around his waist. His leaving so traumatised her at an age where her father should’ve been there to help instil and nurture her self-confidence. And he should have been there as she was blossoming into a woman, tell her how beautiful she was, and how intelligent. Claudia had been a bright student but her misery showed on the outside and she’d quickly become a target at school. For months, Sofie held Claudia every night as she cried herself to sleep. She didn’t say anything when her sweet baby applied more and more make-up until she hid behind a pale Goth mask. Sofie did everything she possibly could to help her through this horrible time, but it was too late, the damage was done. What made matters worse, the only time Jett had ever taken an interest in Claudia was when he’d needed a baby-sitter for his twins. Claudia had told him to go fuck himself. And now here he was standing right in front of Sofie as if nothing was wrong. Sofie wanted to scratch his eyes out, make him bleed, make him pay. She didn’t do anything but glare daggers at him and wished the fire in her eyes could pierce his flesh. But all that was merely physical—and therefore not nearly enough. He needed to feel the psychological pain Claudia had gone through.

  ‘We have to talk, now!’ He’d meant his tone to sound like an order. Sofie remembered it well, that was just some of how he’d treated her the last five or six years of their marriage. But it was all pretence, underneath he’d become pathetic. ‘I heard what happened to your house. It’s terrible, but in a way it’s good, it moved things along.’

  ‘How in the hell does what happened have anything t
o do with you?!’

  ‘Well, I’ve been thinking and—’

  ‘That would have to be a first,’ Sofie cut him off, not in the least bit concerned that she sounded sarcastically juvenile.

  ‘Look, don’t interrupt,’ he snapped.

  ‘Ah-ha! And there we have the Jekyll and Hyde, Jett Olsen.’

  Mouth a thin line, he furtively scanned up and down the street. A little more composed he went back to Sofie. ‘We should give our relationship another go. For Claudia’s sake.’

  ‘Claudia! Hah—she hates your guts.’

  ‘Well, that’s not healthy, is it? That’s why we need to talk this through. You come back to Sydney. Make a family again. We can rent a place first and then buy a house, near Bondi, Claudia would love that.’ To hell she would. ‘What do you say, you always liked Bondi.’

  Immediately, her spine straightened, her body stiffened. ‘No we don’t need to talk and I never liked Bondi—you like Bondi—get out!’ Sofie hissed. Then movement caught her eyes: the school bus trundled past and she hoped to God that Claudia was busy chatting with her friends and not looking in.

  His tone arrogant and to the point of sounding hostile, Jett spoke. ‘Now listen, Sofie—’

  ‘What?!’ she screeched, finding it difficult to believe he dared to take that attitude towards her. She collected her wits. ‘No—you listen—’ She stepped forward and poked him in the chest then wished she hadn’t touched him at all. ‘Get out! And if I see your face around town, I will get a restraining order out on you!’

  A late breakfaster had his fist wrapped around the big brass handle of the restaurant door. Glaring, Sofie glanced his way, hoping the bloke got the message not to come in. He frowned at her then started to walk away while pulling his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans.

  Jett laughed and her focus went back to him. ‘You can’t, I’ve done nothing wrong,’ he said, arms out to make a point. ‘Come on, Sofie, I can make you and Claudia happy, she needs her dad.’

  Rage burned inside her; she wanted to hit him so much, she clenched her fists in readiness. ‘You should’ve thought of Claudia before—you’re too fucking late!’

  Trying a different tone, he pleased, ‘But Sofie, leaving you was a big mistake and—’

  ‘What?!’ She couldn’t believe her ears. Then it dawned on her, Miss Universe had thrown him out, and now that that money trail had dried up, and their sweet Uncle Bob had left her and Jennifer a fortune in property: a fabulous restaurant plus home above, vineyards and a couple of pharmacies, he was using his new-found freedom to try and worm his way back in. Ha! Like that was going to happen.

  ‘Get out, you miserable piece of shit!’ Sofie hissed.

  Jett stepped into her personal space and tried to put an arm around her, whining, ‘We were always so good together. I’ve missed you so much. I know we can be great this time around.’

  ‘You arrogant prick!’ Both hands on his chest, and with all her pent-up rage giving her strength, she shoved him so hard he fell back and crashed into a set of chairs. At the same time the restaurant door swung open.

  Face like thunder, Claudia stomped in, shoved Sofie aside and, fists clenched, she hit her father in the jaw and stomach, hard. Right—left—bang on target!

  Sofie put an arm around her waist to tug her away. Claudia turned on her and screamed in her face, ‘Let me go! I want him to know!’

  She couldn’t be doing too much damage, it was only fair that Claudia was allowed to say her piece. Hopefully this would put an end to feeling worthless, of being so easily chucked aside for something supposedly better. Sofie hoped it would make a difference and let her go.

  Arms up to protect himself, Jett reeled back. ‘Claudia, stop that! I’m here to reconcile. I can make it better, I promise.’

  ‘You were my dad once then you got tired of me and Mum. You left us to fuck Ms Vinegar Tits. You had twins! You left them too?! They need you, we don’t, not now, not ever! Our life is better without you—you pathetic piece of shit! You scum!’ She readied to thump him again and stepped back, fists raised like a boxer. ‘Don’t come near us! Don’t you dare touch my Mum! Stop texting me all the time. I will not talk Mum into meeting you for a talk! I will not make amends—I’ve done nothing wrong—you have!’ she jabbed a finger into his chest. ‘You—are—dead—to—me!’ Her voice and her body trembled with rage.

  ‘He’s texting you!?’ Sofie yelled. Finding that out in the heat of Claudia’s emotional explosion was more disturbing than anything else, especially since she’d felt the need to keep it from Sofie.

  Fucking hell! But for Claudia’s sake she’d deal with the texting business later. Right now she wanted to pulverise him into the ground for continuing to use their daughter in the most contemptible way, but she couldn’t do that either. She had to wait, but when the opportunity came, Sofie would destroy him, verbally, physically, any way she could.

  Utter disillusionment marred her daughter’s beautiful face, now twisted with hate. Sofie’s guilt, remorse, love, crashed in on her and tears rolled silently down her cheeks. It broke her heart to see her baby girl going through her own form of hell.

  ‘You didn’t give a shit about me or Mum. Get out!’ Claudia screamed again and kicked him in the shins.

  ‘Jesus, fuck!’ Jett rubbed his leg. ‘What is wrong with you, Claudia?’

  ‘You have to be kidding me!’ she screeched.

  The restaurant door swung open. Brock’s big frame filled the doorway and his powerful aura electrified the room.

  With emotions flying around, Sofie didn’t know whether to feel relieved he was here, or embarrassed. Hold on. Her eyes darted to Claudia who shook from head to toe. Shit no—absolutely no! She was not going to give embarrassment a look-in, not this time. Sofie’s mother would be mortified but Sofie didn’t care; if she was here, Sofie would give her the finger and take this confrontation as emotionally purging. No matter what the outcome, she would try and turn it around, make it a positive one for Claudia and damn everybody else. She turned her attention back to Brock, watching him closely. He’d assessed the situation the moment he walked in. So now what? Her only concern was Claudia; blind to everything around her, Claudia continued on her rant.

  ‘Get out!’ Claudia screamed at her father again and made ready to throw another punch. Brock’s hand cupped her fist, enveloping it, very effectively putting an end to her physical thumping of her dad. Enraged she turned her anger on him. ‘Don’t touch me!’

  Brock remained calm and said, ‘Miss Dove … Claudia, I need you to step away.’

  In the mood to take on the world regardless, Claudia raised herself up on her toes, lifted her chin and yelled in Brock’s face, ‘NO!’

  Hands out in front, as if imploring Claudia to understand and accept him, Jett edged forward.

  Brock pointed at him. ‘I’m Detective Sergeant Brock Stewart.’ And in a low growl he ordered, ‘Don’t move.’

  ‘She’s not Miss Dove,’ Jett began with a sneer, ‘she’s Claudia Olsen.’

  Claudia rounded on her father, an aura of white hot-anger surrounding her. She leaned forward and yelled in his face, ‘After you left I changed my name to D-O-V-E Dove! You don’t deserve me, or Mum! I will never have your shit name again—ever!’

  Ready to take preventative measures before Claudia shattered into a thousand pieces, Sofie took a step closer. Brock turned his head towards her, his warning look saying, Don’t. Brock didn’t have children, she didn’t know what he had planned, but based on the man she’d grown to know, gave him her trust. Maybe this is what Claudia needed, a solid, trustworthy bloke. A father figure she could call her friend.

  ‘Miss Dove, move away,’ Brock asked, his tone firm but gentle.

  ‘I—said—no,’ Claudia hissed, eyes sending daggers at Brock, but at the same time she was on the verge of tears, her mouth and chin trembling.

  Back straight, brow furrowed, eyes like flint, Brock sliced a glance Sofie’s way. For a fleeting moment
she read indecision, then nothing, the frown was gone, and so was the hard look. His expression had become blank, unreadable, a side of Brock she’d never seen before.

  Jett tried to sidle towards the door. Brock’s body remained still, except for his head which he turned to Jett, and then in a quiet, scary manner, he growled, ‘I wouldn’t if I were you.’ When Jett stopped moving, Brock’s attention went back to Claudia and this time he said, ‘Claudia, please go and look after your mother.’

  And bloody hell, Claudia nodded and headed straight for Sofie.

  ‘Sweetheart,’ Sofie whispered, wrapping her in a tight hug, which thankfully, Claudia allowed. Sofie wanted to say, ‘Yes, he’s a moron, and not the man I married,’ but refrained.

  Fists low on his hips, Brock moved in, almost nose to nose with Jett. ‘You need to keep away from Ms Dove and her daughter—’

  ‘No I don’t,’ Jett cut in, ‘they’re my family.’

  ‘What?’ Sofie shouted, enraged.

  Still shaking, Claudia growled, her hand fisting in her mother’s shirt.

  Sofie held her breath as Brock’s sharp eyes narrowed in on Jett, studying him, and with a lip curl finding him, lacking, inadequate. Or was it something else … like, what a dickhead? Head slanted, his expression baffled, questioning, perhaps trying to understand what this man was about.

  He straightened and said, decisively, ‘Their name is Dove, which tells me they want nothing to do with you.’ Muscles tense, Brock’s arms were straight down his side, fists clenched. Sofie could see he was fighting for control and silently begged he would keep it. Eyes not leaving Jett, Brock asked, ‘Sofie, do you want to speak or have anything to do with your ex?’