Mountain Made Baby Page 4

  His eyes flew open and he jumped.

  “What in hell?” He was on his feet, hand on his chest. His face was almost purple and I felt a sudden horror. What if I had scared him so badly that he had a coronary? That would be great. I come all that way just to frighten him to death.

  “Grandpa,” I said softly. “It’s me. Kelly. I said I’d come visit. Remember?”

  He breathed out, relieved. “Kelly.” He looked at me properly, eyes focused now. “It is you. My, but you’ve grown.”

  I grinned. “Thanks, Grandpa. It had to happen sometime, I guess.”

  He chuckled. The chuckle went all wheezy, and he coughed. “Come inside,” he said. “We’ll have coffee.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  In the house, I started getting misgivings about my role here. The place was a mess. Unwashed dishes were piled up in the kitchen, the cord to the light in the sitting room had gone, torn out of the socket in the roof. The floor was covered with boxes of things, standing around. In the kitchen, one window was jammed open and flies buzzed in and out.

  I held my breath, not wanting to disturb the coating of dust I could see on the top of the fridge, the shelves, the window.

  “Um, Grandpa?” I asked cautiously as he filled the kettle.

  “Mm?” He looked up at me with big unfocused eyes.

  “How long since anyone visited?”

  “Oh,” He scratched his head. “About four months. Why?”

  “Oh.”

  I felt a growing sense of despair. I suspected it had been longer than that since anyone had actually been inside the house—surely no one would have left him in such a state? He was thinner than I remembered too, I thought as I watched him reach for a box on the shelf, his shoulder blades sticking out and his face sunken.

  “Here we go,” he wheezed as the kettle started to sing. “Can you reach the sugar?” he asked, pointing at a shelf in the cupboard.

  I am not a very tall person—I come in at five foot five. I stood on tiptoe and reached up, wincing as my hand slid through a thick layer of dust on the shelf. A brief perusal of the cupboard told me Grandpa had been living on rice and porridge for the last few months at least—that was all that was up there.

  “Grandpa?” I asked as he stirred the coffee and the dense, roasted aroma wafted up to my nose.

  “Mm?”

  “Are you okay?” I asked. “I mean…when you wrote me, it sounded like you were worried about something.”

  “Oh?” He frowned. I wondered if he recalled having written the letter at all. I felt a deep concern. “Letter?”

  “You sent it last month,” I prompted gently as I took the tray from him.

  “Last month?” he looked worried. “Oh. Maybe I did.”

  I sighed. “Yes, you did, but never mind. I want to know how you are.”

  “Oh, fine. Fine. No need to worry about me, Kelly. Come, let’s go outside. It’s so nice out.”

  I nodded and we took the coffee through from the fetid-smelling kitchen and into fresh air. I put the tray down on the old rusty table and we sat, looking as the landscape.

  I wondered about Grandpa. He seemed well, but his thoughts were clearly a bit scattered and he seemed worried about something. I let out a slow breath, trying to relax. If I just waited peacefully for him to tell me, he probably would. I looked out across the hills and let my tumult of thoughts settle.

  The farm was peaceful, like I remembered. The sky was hard cerulean over orange-tinted peaks and I heard somewhere the creak of a windmill. I felt my nerves finally uncoil and I relaxed properly—the first true relaxation I’d felt in ages.

  “Grandpa,” I asked as he reached for his coffee, slurping noisily. “How are you? Really. The truth this time.”

  “Oh, not bad,” he demurred. “Arm aches, sometimes. Dunno why. And my leg gives me trouble. You know—that leg?”

  I nodded. It was an old war injury—he’d been in Cambodia during the seventies. I frowned over my drink. “You’ve seen the doctor about this stuff, right?”

  He looked uncomfortable. “Well, you know how it is. I haven’t been out and about and Sheridan’s so far and…”

  “Grandpa!” I exploded. “You mean to say you’ve been out here with an ache in your arm and trouble with your leg and you haven’t been into town?”

  “Not for a month, no,” he admitted. “Last time I was there it was…um…sometime round April, maybe May, I reckon. Went to the post office, went to the store…” he scratched his head. His eyes unfocused abruptly and he seemed to go into another space.

  It was mid-June. I was horrified. “How have you been living out here?”

  “Oh, not so bad,” he demurred. “Parson Orwell came over, brought some things from his wife. Great family, they are.” he smiled, looking satisfied. His eyes had that same unfocused look and I sensed he was going to launch into some anecdote about the church.

  “Grandpa!” I was furious. “Why have you been stuck out here for a month, eating porridge and nothing else, and not doing anything about it?”

  He looked sheepish and I felt my temper dissolve. He was close to eighty. How could I be talking to him like he was a recalcitrant teenager?

  “Sorry.” I sighed. “Is it your car?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “It just doesn’t start.”

  Oh, for…I rolled my eyes to the roof. Looked down. “Well,” I began. As I sat there, I was making a plan of action. “First things first. I’m staying here tonight. I’m going into town and making you a real dinner. Then I’m taking you through tomorrow and you are going to the doctor. Then when we get back here, we’re getting the garage to come and tow your car and getting that car fixed. Right?”

  He looked uncomfortable. “I don’t want other people up here poking their noses in my garage,” he said stiffly.

  “Oh, for…” I closed my eyes. Then I counted to ten, drank my coffee and stood.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “I’m going to stretch my legs quickly. I’ll be back soon.”

  My plan was to go and see what was going on with the car. I had this horrible feeling that it was parked in a garage that looked like a junk house. He didn’t want the repair guys coming up here because he was embarrassed about the state of it. I didn’t want Grandpa to know I was snooping. I walked briskly out to the front yard.

  The garage stood just down from the house, a prefabricated thing with a flat roof and a single big door. I tried the front door. It wasn’t locked and slid up easily. I went inside it. As I had feared, the door was all but blocked with farm equipment. I swore.

  “Oh, for crying in a…”

  I bent over, gripping the tines of a wheelbarrow and pushing it out of the way. It wouldn’t take long for me to clear a path through to the battered old Transit that stood in the middle. I decided to be ruthless. Most of this rubbish was rubbish. I’d get someone to take it to the scrap dealers tomorrow. In the meanwhile, I was going to clear a path through to that van.

  “How in the name of…” I swore under my breath as I hefted things. I was really worried about Grandpa, and I chose to express my worry as anger.

  There was something badly wrong with him. That pain in his arm didn’t sound good at all. Adding it to the sleepiness and the slightly gray pallor of his skin, I had the sense there was something very wrong with Grandpa. And how could he have lived out here in this chaos for months? I was mad at him for neglecting himself. Mad for letting this junk pile up. It could have killed him!

  I had worked up a good old righteous fury as I pushed things out of the way, and, ten minutes into the job, with a path cleared from the door to the back of the vehicle, my hair a mess and oil staining my hands, I walked out, stretching my back and breathing deeply.

  There, I stopped dead.

  “Reese!” I yelled at him, absolutely aghast. “What the hell are you doing here?” Shock made me furious.

  He grinned lopsidedly. “Just visiting, I guess?”

 
; I felt my cheeks flare with shame. Here I was, with oil marks on my face and jeans, my hair a mess, stinking of perspiration with cobwebs stuck all over me, and here was the hottest man ever. How dare he sneak up on me when I was at a disadvantage? I was mad.

  “How dare you come and snoop around?” I shouted at him. “I didn’t say I wanted your help!”

  He turned on me then. “Well, you need it,” he said loudly. “Look at this mess! How do you think you’re going to look after some crackpot old guy by yourself? Who do you think you are?”

  That was it. I hit him. It was a slap in the face, but I did it with loads of elbow. He blinked. I saw his eyes narrow and he tensed. I felt suddenly scared and stepped back.

  “Don’t even think…” I hissed. For a moment it looked like he was going to hit me back. Then the look went out of his eyes. He sighed.

  “How dare you insult my grandpa?” I said hotly. “He’s an amazing guy! A war hero from Vietnam! And you’re just a…” I shook my head as I saw him wince.

  “Don’t,” he warned. “How dare you? You don’t know me.”

  I sighed. “No. And you don’t know Grandpa. He’s old. He’s sick. There’s nothing…wrong with him.”

  He was looking down the farm, his hand clenching and unclenching in a fist. I felt scared, seeing the intense look on his face. His eyes were open but he wasn’t focused on anything. I wondered where his mind had gone. He shook himself.

  “Well, then,” he said. His voice came up a long tunnel. I shivered, hearing how cool it was. “I’ll go away.”

  “No, Reese,” I said, shaking my head. “Wait. Please?” I put my hand on his shoulder. He whipped round and the look was back. I shivered and stepped away.

  His murderous expression cleared and he looked at his hands. “Kelly,” he said. I heard a tremor of longing in his voice and it made me shudder. I looked into his eyes.

  “Yes?”

  Suddenly his mouth was on mine again. I tensed and then I relaxed. His hands, strong and lean and hard, clamped on my arms and held me prisoner. I felt my mouth surrender to him as his tongue explored me. I felt helpless but strangely wonderful as that hard body leaned against me, pushing me to the wall.

  His cock was straining against his zip and I felt a similar longing rising in me. Suddenly, all restraint broke. I had to have him. When he leaned back, gasping, I nodded.

  “Your place? Or here?”

  He chuckled. “I like that. My place?”

  I nodded. “I have to be back in time to make Grandpa dinner.”

  He grinned. “Okay. Will you come back with me? I left the pickup at the end of the driveway.”

  I nodded. “Yes. Just let me tell him I’m heading off.”

  “Okay.”

  I went into the house to find Grandpa. He was on the terrace again, looking over the view.

  “I’m going out for about an hour,” I said.

  He blinked. “Okay, Kell. See you at dinner?”

  “Yes,” I said. He smiled.

  As I headed back to the driveway, my heart thudded with excitement. It didn’t seem possible that I, decent and sensible Kelly, the girl who had been Miss Organization in my twelfth-grade class, was heading off to a tryst with a wild man. I was shivering with excitement.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Reese

  As Kelly slipped into the seat beside me I felt my poor body start to throb. She was so close and so sexy and I couldn’t quite believe how long it’d been since I felt this way. I leaned over and pushed her back against the headrest, my tongue plundering those pink lips.

  She moaned and I felt myself almost lose control. She was so soft, with those round breasts pressing into me, the natural spice scent of her wafting to my nose.

  “Okay,” I shivered as I drew back, focusing on the wheel. “Let’s go.”

  We drove to my home in silence. I think we were both feeling a bit overwhelmed. My whole body was shaking as I stopped outside my house and got out, slamming the door shut. She followed me in and, feeling a bit like a truant schoolkid I led her into my home.

  In the living room, we leaned against the door, kissing. I pushed my tongue into her mouth and felt my control slip away as I lifted her shirt, wanting to take those hard breasts into my hands. I pushed my body against her and she moaned as I drew it off over her head. My hands reached for the hard breasts, and I shuddered as I felt the silky bra.

  “In my room,” I growled. I took her shoulder and dragged her into my bedroom. There, I threw her back onto the bed.

  I was almost bestial in my need. I tore off my own shirt and then I was on her. Her bra came away under my clutching hands and I pushed my face in between her breasts, drawing the scent of her into my nostrils. She was making a noise in her throat, a low rumble and it turned me on as I sucked her big fat nipple in between my lips.

  “Oh, baby,” I groaned. I was almost helpless with my need then and I unfastened my pants, knowing I was almost bursting with my own longing. My cock was already turgid and I wanted to push it inside her.

  She sat up and I pushed her back imperiously, struggling with the fastening of her jeans. She laughed and helped me draw them off. I stared at her curvy body, now dressed only in pair of briefs. I drew them off over her legs, throwing it onto the bed.

  She sighed as I ran my hands down her body, devouring her with my eyes. She was so pretty. I could have looked at her all day. Her breasts were high and firm, her tummy slightly rounded just above that mound, satiny with red hair. I ran my hand between her thighs, grunting as I felt her wetness.

  Then I was on top of her. I pushed my cock into her and gasped. She was so tight and wet. I thrust into her, first slow and then fast. We were moving together in a dance that made the desire rise in me, rising and rising and…

  “Oh, man!”

  She was crying out almost as I started to come. It had been ages for me and I couldn’t quite believe the force and strength of my come as it raced over me. I tensed, growling, and collapsed.

  A few minutes I just lay on her, panting and unconscious as the force of my load raced through me. Then I rolled off her and lay on my back. She was sweating. I could feel the wetness on my skin, sliding on me.

  I looked at her. She looked satisfied, eyes closed, lips open. I felt my longing rise again as I sat up and stared down at her.

  She opened her eyes. Looked up at me. She smiled.

  She reached out a hand and stroked it down my chest. I felt myself smile.

  ***

  I lay on my side and studied him. With that fine, elegant nose and those rugged, deep-set eyes he looked like something from teenage fantasy. And I wasn’t even thinking about that bod. I couldn’t resist touching it. He was so densely muscled I could barely believe it—a six-pack and rippling biceps that could have sold workout equipment just by being photographed nearby. I sat up.

  “Where’re you going?” he grunted. I laughed.

  “Nowhere.”

  “Good.”

  He sat up and pushed me onto my back. I let out a sigh, feeling my heart thump. I liked the way he was so overpowering. He made me feel wanted. I let him run his hands down my body and gasped at where they were going.

  “You want me, huh?” he whispered.

  As his hand found my places of pleasure in between my thighs I nodded. “Yes.”

  He gently stuck a finger into me, working at my clit as he did so. I gasped. It was such a wonderful sensation that I swore I was going to come again. Then with an insistent hand he pushed me onto my front.

  “Stay there,” he whispered.

  He went around behind me, and I felt his hands gently part my thighs. Then he was pushing himself into me, gently moving me so that I lay with my bum in the air, my legs open, and him thrusting into me from behind. I sighed.

  “Oh.” I moaned as he went right into me, his hard cock so long that it was almost sore when he filled me.

  He drew out and pushed back again, then repeated the action. The soreness went away,
lost in the masterful way he used his size, not hurting me but filling me in a way that was so satisfying I was soon shivering.

  I came again, and he kept on, moving and moving and moving…

  “Agh!”

  He shouted out a sound that was so satisfying it made me shudder. He came and collapsed on me.

  We lay like that for a few minutes, and I was sorry when he rolled off me.

  In the cool of afternoon wind, coming in off the land outside, I lay there and felt too drowsy to do anything. My body felt like someone had put me back together, almost like I was made anew. I was relaxed in ways I hadn’t been in years.

  He sighed. “I feel amazing.”

  Laughing, I agreed. He chuckled.

  “Well.”

  He sat up and I felt the loss of his warm presence beside me. I heard him washing himself in the bathroom, and then he came back to me.

  “You need a shower?” he asked.

  “With you?”

  He grinned. “Could try.”

  I nodded. We went into the bathroom and I looked hesitant. The shower was tiny—a small glass-fronted box that would never fit two in. I sighed. “You first.”

  He looked disappointed but agreed. I stayed where I was as he shut himself in. I watched the steam cloud up the door and delighted in the sight of his body, shiny and glimmering under the lamp.

  When he came out, he drew me against him. His skin was hot and smelled fresh. I held him to me and he laughed as my hands slid down his hard-muscled frame.

  “You go now?”

  I nodded. I slipped into the shower. As I rinsed myself, I was conscious of his presence outside the cubicle. I could feel his eyes on me as my hands washed my intimate parts and I felt a strange arousal start in me. I’d never been so closely observed and it was arousing.

  When I came out, he grinned. “Nice.”

  I shivered as he drew me against his chest. I felt warm and calm.

  He kissed my neck and then his hands were all over me. I felt desire rise again as he led me through to the bedroom.

  We made love again, fast and passionate, and I lay beside him. His arms held me.