Free Marriage by Mistake by Alyssa Kress Page B

He'd gone up to his solitary room and dreamed about her. Wild, erotic dreams. They'd been like nothing he'd ever experienced, the sex unlike any he'd ever had. No holds barred, skin and teeth and tongues. Animal, frantic—
    Satisfying.
    Dean drew in a deep breath. God, had it been satisfying. Too satisfying. And so he couldn't help wondering: was the dream based on memory? Had the sex between them really been that good?
    Dean's breath hissed out. No. He couldn't let himself wonder. He'd go crazy. He'd spend every waking moment scheming how to get her into bed, how to achieve that satisfaction in reality.
    He'd act like a damned fool.
    Cars and people hurried past each other on the street below. Deliberately, Dean relaxed his tight jaw. First of all, it had been a dream, not a memory. Secondly, he was his own man, heredity notwithstanding.
    He didn't have to act like a damned fool.
    Even if he might want to.
    ~~~
    Kelly was thrilled to find Dean's basement gym. She could stay in shape and be ready to go back to work the minute this trial period marriage was over.
    On Monday morning she jumped onto Dean's state-of-the-art equipment, ignoring the voice chattering inside her head that after four days in his house she was doing absolutely nothing about learning who 'this' Dean really was.
    It wasn't her fault, though. Dean was avoiding her. He left every morning super early and came home super late. Not her fault.
    In the plain-walled gym, Kelly pumped away on Dean's stationary bicycle. Well, all right, truth be told, she was glad Dean was avoiding her. She felt very confused about him. He was cold, disapproving, way too authoritarian. He didn't even like her.
    And yet—and yet—she couldn't help feeling there was something there, some thing —
    On the stationary bicycle, Kelly shook her head. What was there was pure lust, a simple physical attraction. She wanted it to be more than that. God knew, she missed the man she'd married, but a girl had to face reality.
    He wasn't there. In fact, he'd never been 'there.'
    Kelly worked out for two solid hours, really getting into it every time she started wondering about 'her' Dean again. Finally, exhausted, she wiped her face, threw the towel around her neck, then used one last burst of energy to hop up the stairs.
    A light flickered from an open door on the second floor hall. Sounds of explosions drifted forth. Panting from her jog up the stairs, Kelly stalked down the wood paneled hall to investigate.
    Past the open doorway, Robby sat cross-legged on a carpeted floor. His tongue peeked out of one corner of his mouth as he concentrated on his joystick and a TV screen. Toys littered the room beyond him, the windows of which were covered by a set of heavy curtains.
    Kelly crossed her arms over her chest and leaned one shoulder against the door jamb. She hadn't ignored Dean's little brother, but she hadn't sought him out, either. It seemed best not to rock that boat. Though, darn it, she wanted to.
    Look at the kid . His every brain cell was concentrated on what Kelly could now see was a battle between chaps-wearing cowboys and scantily clad women. Both sides were armed to the teeth. Kelly dabbed her still-dewing forehead with her towel. This was not right. A child shouldn't be spending his time this way, self-absorbed and sedentary. "Hey," she heard herself say.
    There was no answer to this greeting. Just a kapow from the TV set, followed by the sound of shattering.
    Kelly drew her thumb along her lower lip. Yes, the boy needed attention, but if she gave him any, it would only make trouble for her in an already difficult situation.
    Kelly bit her thumb. On the other hand, what was more important: taking care of her own comfort, or helping another in need? Kelly straightened from the door jamb. She spoke again, louder. "Hey!"
    Robby started. Instead of an explosion from the TV set, there was a thud. He turned, looking outraged. "For the love of—! Oh, it's you." His look of outrage