It Started with a Kiss Read online

  I was determined to leave my insecurities with my discarded bra and go for it. I hadn’t felt so alive, so wanted and so sexy for a very long time. As the farmer and I explored each other’s bodies, I felt somehow liberated and free, remembering how much I loved sex. Making love. Fucking. I wanted it all.

  When I opened my eyes the next morning, he was lying beside me, asleep. The dark smooth skin of his handsome face was a little rumpled from where he’d rolled over onto tangled sheets. Pillows, a blanket, clothes and other paraphernalia lay strewn on the floor. I rolled into his arms and smiled. His eyes blinked. We were both quite naked.

  ‘I didn’t mean for this to happen,’ I said, suddenly feeling shy.

  He kissed my neck. ‘Neither did I, but a little spontaneity is good for the soul.’

  It was another two hours before I slowly wrenched myself from his bed. This morning’s walk was a no-go. I’d done my morning’s exercise anyway.

  In the shower back in my room, I rubbed my aching muscles. My head hurt. I wasn’t sure whether the pain was due to yesterday’s exercise or last night’s activities, but I felt weary and sore in a good way. I let the steamy hot water wash over me as I thought back over the last twelve hours.

  Even before Blake’s lips had touched mine, I think I’d decided I was going to sleep with him. I was going to have sex with a man who wasn’t my husband, determined to do something reckless for the first time in many years. But now, the stabbing guilt pains were taking hold. Time to take a deep breath and regain my self-control.

  I knew what I’d done was wrong but was also confident I could compartmentalise this out-of-character experience. No one would ever find out… last night was a oncer. A short, sharp fling, and today? Well, today normal transmission would resume.

  Later at lunch when I saw Blake, I wanted to hide. I felt awkward, embarrassed. Was he feeling the same? Would we both pretend last night never happened? Would he even speak to me? I took a seat far away from him and contemplated my minestrone. But I had no appetite, I was feeling nauseous. Sick with guilt and self-loathing.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, appearing beside me minutes later. ‘Having fun?’

  I blushed, almost not daring to look at him.

  ‘I had a great time last night.’ He bent down and whispered in my ear. ‘And this morning. You really are one of the most exciting and beautiful women I have ever met.’

  Staring straight ahead, feeling all my extremities tingle, I crossed my legs, uncrossed them.

  ‘Are you wearing more of that sexy lingerie? Honestly, I can’t get enough of it.’

  Laughing, I turned to him. ‘Shut up.’

  ‘My room?’

  I wanted to throw myself into his arms, to feel them wrap around my body, protecting me from the outside world. To kiss his lips, to feel his skin against mine… to have him all to myself.

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Really? I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue and—’

  ‘Shh.’ I looked around the room. No one was paying us the slightest attention. ‘I guess I could give fit-ball a miss.’

  Minutes later in his villa, we practically fell over ourselves in a rush to get naked. His erect cock waiting somewhat impatiently for attention. And I loved, loved, loved, every minute of it.

  So, about me thinking last night would be a oncer… er, no, I got that wrong. Very quickly, I became acquainted with several more of the farmer’s sexual desires. We continued having sex, lots of it. In the steam room, in my room, his. That’s what it was. Sex and more sex. Risky, yes, but we couldn’t get enough of each other. Fucking became more intense, almost like an addiction. The more time we spent together, the more I craved him. And when we were together, absolutely nothing else mattered.

  All I could think about was how good I felt when I was with Blake. I was living. I wasn’t sad or middle-aged. I was sexy, wanton and free. Kissing him, lying next to him, my body constantly ached for his touch. The more he stroked my skin and kissed my lips, the more I wanted him. And when we weren’t alone and naked, I wanted us to be. Sitting next to him at dinner pressing my knee into his—although our secret code—was torture until we could grab a few moments alone to rip off each other’s clothes again.

  It had been forever since I’d had sex like this. Liam’s and my relationship had morphed in recent years. Although we were occasionally having sex before we separated, it wasn’t passionate, all-consuming or crazed.

  Hell, the farmer had handcuffs in his luggage. I didn’t ask why, I just knew I wanted him to use them on me… tie me up, chain me down. Bring it on.

  Liam and I had comfortable sex. He had never tied my hands together or to the bed head. Oh, he had tried once, long ago when we’d both been pissed. But he couldn’t go through with it. ‘I can’t do this to the woman I love,’ he’d said.

  And I’d appreciated it. But now that I was shagging the farmer, I realised Liam hadn’t fucked me, either, not for years. And sometimes, as I was quickly finding out, a woman just wants to be screwed and wants to be chained to the bed.

  The thought so thrilled me I told the farmer when we shared our fantasies. His eyes widened. ‘Love it. Can I also blindfold and fuck you in a public place?’

  I giggled. ‘We can do that, too.’

  ‘Yes we will. But ladies first.’

  Later, back in my room, when the farmer snatched the tie from my villa robe, I knew exactly what he wanted to do with it. I was horny, I was wet and I was in.

  It was only when I was alone, exhausted and lying in bed or sitting on the verandah, staring at the wallabies, mountains and beyond, that I could think calmly and rationally.

  What the hell was I doing?

  Was I insane?

  Was this really happening?

  It definitely wasn’t right, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  Some times I purposely avoided Blake. Instead of walking with the group in the morning, I’d run alone. Instead of going to breakfast, I’d head straight to the gym and cycle. I needed to punish myself for what I had been doing with a married man. I’d become a person I loathed. I was one of those people who had affairs. I was an adulterer.

  Stephanie’s words, ‘other women will be wary of you wanting to steal their husbands’ rattled around my head. I was proving her right and felt sick about it.

  Still, I kept telling myself it was okay because my marriage to Liam was over. But what about the farmer’s marriage? Was it really over, too? I knew very little about him. Okay. So he liked goats. I like them, too, all animals in fact, but that’s not uncommon. The startling information that he loved animals too, really shouldn’t have been such a huge pull. I also knew he was a damn good lover… and that I was particularly partial to his penis. Let’s just say I knew a lot about him without knowing much at all.

  ‘Are you avoiding me?’ Blake asked one afternoon when I’d managed to stay away from him for three hours straight.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You’re married.’

  ‘Only in name,’ he countered. ‘Staying together for the sake of the kids. You know what it’s like.’

  I wanted to believe him.

  Did I even like him or was it all about sex? I didn’t know. What I did know was that I was losing all grip, babbling like a fool with people I’d only just met, and when I wasn’t chatting, I was laughing. I wasn’t the calm, collected mother of teenagers. I was a sex-crazed borderline lunatic. I was one of those sickening people who was seemingly happy and peppy without any good reason. Just because…

  I felt uninhibited and more desirable and sexier than I had felt in years. The farmer could have told me he ate small puppies for breakfast—when I was with him, I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, me, us and the thrill. I truly couldn’t wipe the smile from my face.

  As the week drew to a close, I tried very hard to take our fling for what it had been—fun. But when it came time to say goodbye, I felt confused. Devastated? Not quite but close. I di
dn’t know what to say. What was the correct protocol here?

  ‘You haven’t done anything wrong,’ Blake assured me.

  I bowed my head.

  ‘You said your marriage was over.’

  Yes, I had, but was it really? Part of me really didn’t want to accept it, but the other part realised it was probably more likely than not. ‘That doesn’t mean I should jump into bed with the first guy who comes along.’

  He cupped my face in his hands. They felt cool against my flushed skin. He leant into me, pausing, looking into my eyes before kissing me lightly on the lips. He tasted fresh, like peppermint. His hands moved back, fingers tangling in my hair, his body pressing into mine.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, willing him to kiss me more forcefully. I wanted him. I couldn’t imagine ever not wanting him, but the voice of reason was beckoning. We both had real lives waiting for us back in Sydney and even the most straightforward life had its complications.

  ‘I can’t,’ I said, pulling away. ‘We’re both married.’

  ‘I know,’ he said with a heavy sigh. ‘But I meant it when I said I feel like I’ve known you forever. The sex confirmed it.’

  I swallowed hard. ‘We’re both married,’ I repeated, unable to get past that part.

  I was too emotionally beat to continue the discussion and he didn’t seem overly enthused to talk about his situation. It didn’t matter anyway. I wasn’t interested in hearing about his home life regardless of how unappealing he might make it sound. Truth is, I’d become one of those ugly people who had affairs. Is that how it happened? Blindly going along, enjoying the ride, not realising you were in over your head until you were practically drowning?

  When I took another step back, he looked truly wounded. ‘I have to go,’ I said under my breath.

  Remaining strong, I said goodbye and walked out of his life. I didn’t turn back, afraid that if I did, I would change my mind.

  Tears stinging my eyes, I closed the door to my villa for the last time, dragging my suitcase behind me. This place had been my sanctuary for the past seven days and now I was leaving. Once inside my car, I really let myself go and the tears flowed. I could barely see the road in front of me. Never could I have imagined feeling so intensely for any man other than Liam… and now it was over. It had to be. I needed to focus on myself and my real life in Newport.

  6

  Driving home, my thoughts and emotions swung wildly on an imaginary pendulum inside my head. One moment I felt resigned to the reality that this was my life and I had to deal with it, warts and all—Liam, the separation, forging a life for myself and the girls—and the next, I was playing out a fantasy where Blake and I lived happily ever after on his goat farm, in some idyllic coastal town. Then the tears would start up again.

  Five minutes from home I stopped on the roadside to compose myself. I was determined to have a smile on my face when I walked through my front door.

  I pulled up in the driveway and sat for a moment, staring out at the view. I loved my house overlooking the ocean, the distinctive salt-water scent hitting me as soon as I opened the car door and stepped out into the fresh air. The sound of the waves crashing on the sand… so majestic and powerful yet calming. I’d missed this—my house, the beach, my pretty garden and my beautiful girls. I loved them so much.

  I can do this, I thought, taking a deep breath and stepping inside the front door.

  ‘Hey,’ I said, walking down the hall towards the kitchen, half expecting Baxter to leap on me, jumping up and down and wagging his tail in appreciation of my homecoming.

  ‘Mummy,’ squealed Evie from the lounge room. ‘You’re home.’

  I walked over and sat down beside her, smothering her in hugs. ‘Looks like it. Tell me what’s been happening.’

  Evie beamed. ‘Well, Brodie’s over so Liv is being fake nice. Dad’s been surfing.’

  ‘You’re home,’ said Liam, strolling into the room, towel wrapped around his tanned, not unattractive, waist.

  I glanced up at him. ‘Why are you both so surprised?’

  ‘I just didn’t expect you back so early.’

  Clearly.

  I turned to face Evie, not wanting to meet Liam’s eyes. I was blushing. Could he tell I’d spent the week having sex with another man? Did I look like a changed woman? In some way, have I been branded an adulterer?

  My imaginary but judgemental superiors were having a fine time berating me. It took all my concentration to shut them up. With a bit of creative thinking I could almost convince myself that my time at Utopia had been a dream, and meeting the farmer an elaborate fantasy I’d created to help ease the pain of Liam’s sudden departure. Almost. But still, overwhelming, life-challenging thoughts skittered through my mind as Evie nattered easily about her week.

  ‘Mandy got a Saturday for swearing in class. Tessie got her hair cut. It’s really short. Bella’s in love with Matt. There’s no way anything can happen. He’s in Year 9 and plays cricket. Anyway, I don’t care. I love Taylor Swift. I might be a lesbian.’

  Liam raised his eyebrows.

  I kissed Evie’s cheek. ‘And how do you feel about that?’

  Evie shrugged. ‘Don’t you care that Liv’s downstairs alone with Brodie?’

  ‘Good point.’ I stood up, pleased to have a reason to leave the room. I met Olivia and Brodie halfway down the stairs.

  Liv eyeballed me. ‘Mum.’

  ‘Liv. Brodie. How was your week, darling?’

  ‘Brodie’s just leaving.’

  Nice chatting with you. I walked back upstairs and into the kitchen where Liam was making us both a coffee, my first in a week.

  So far, so good. Lightning hadn’t struck me down and I felt I was doing a good job of appearing normal, but coffee would be a useful prop.

  ‘Mum,’ Evie said, walking over, holding my phone. ‘It’s going off.’ A ping heralded the arrival of a text as she handed it to me. ‘See what I mean?’

  My hands were shaking as I put the mobile in my jeans back pocket. I didn’t need to look to see who it was from, but I got my chance a few minutes later when I escaped to my bedroom to unpack.

  The first one? Missing you.

  My heart pounded.

  Second: Need to see you, taste you, fuck you.

  I felt the same way. At least my body did. But my brain? Not so much. I was thankful I’d met Blake, at least I thought I was, but I was content to leave my romantic fling in the mountains and focus on me and what I needed to do to make a better life for Evie and Olivia. That also meant sorting out what was happening with Liam.

  I deleted his texts, packed my clothes and toiletries away, and went in search of Liam, who I found sitting on the deck. ‘Good week?’

  ‘Yeah, the girls were great.’

  I stared at him, thinking to myself, ‘What are you doing sitting down, like you live here?’ But I actually said, ‘So, are you staying for dinner?’

  ‘Sure. I could do a barbeque. Evie and I went shopping this morning.’

  ‘Okay, and then you’re going back to Brad’s tonight?’

  He scratched his head. ‘Unless you want me to stay. I’ve been thinking since you’ve been away—’

  ‘I’ve done some thinking as well.’

  He looked at me expectantly.

  ‘I need some time on my own,’ I said quickly, before he had a chance to speak.

  I was looking at him, trying to remember the good times, the life we’d built together, our shared joys and passions, but my memory was hazy. A complete fog. Any notion of reconciliation had vanished. I absolutely could not sleep with another man and then act as if my marriage had any hope of surviving. It didn’t. I couldn’t go back and pretend it hadn’t happened and I couldn’t pretend that Blake hadn’t awakened feelings within me that had been dormant for months, maybe years.

  ‘What?’ said Liam. ‘A couple of weeks ago you were asking when I was moving back home.’

  ‘And now I’m not sure. The week away has made me re
alise that I haven’t been happy, either, Liam. I need to figure out what’s best for me. It’s not just about you.’

  ‘We’ve been separated three months…’ He trailed off.

  ‘And before that, you were doing all you could to escape. You’ve been doing it ever since Brad moved to Sydney, your parents dying, Baxter—’

  ‘That’s not fair. I’ve been under enormous stress.’

  ‘I know. I’ve tried to be understanding, but when you talk about life with me and the girls being boring—’

  ‘I said that once when I was angry.’

  I shrugged. ‘You think raising our kids is boring.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that life’s got to be fun, too.’

  ‘Again, sorry our life isn’t fun.’

  ‘You’re twisting my words.’

  ‘Boring. Not fun. How is that twisting your words?’ I looked out across the ocean and then at Liam, my resolve strengthened. ‘The week away has helped clear my head. I think you should go back to Brad’s. The sooner the better.’

  ‘But…’ Liam stalled. ‘You’re still my wife. I was kind of hoping we could rekindle a bit of the old spark tonight, especially if we’re sharing a bed.’

  I was horrified. ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’

  ‘What? You’re kicking me out?’ He seemed incredulous. ‘You want me to sleep in the study?’

  ‘Or go back to Brad’s. There’s no reason for you to stay here tonight.’

  ‘God, you’re cold, Friday.’ He was waiting for me to speak but I had nothing further to say. ‘I haven’t packed.’

  ‘Fine. Go tomorrow.’

  ‘But the girls. What will we tell them? They’ve been so happy having me home this week.’

  ‘The truth, Liam. They’ve coped well enough for the three months you’ve already been at Brad’s. They’ll cope again.’ I brushed away a tear, but when Liam went to hug me, I put up my hands, shielding my body. ‘Don’t.’

  We gazed out to sea, neither of us moving or daring to look at the other, having retreated into our own silent worlds.