Marriage by Mistake

stable routine come fall. He wanted to claim that his life was stable, that it was all settled and not like Kirk's life at all.
    Dean wanted to say that, but he didn't.
    Scowling now, Kirk threw up his hands. "I'm taking Robby. So you've got your wife to yourself, whether you wanted her that way or not."
    Dean was still standing behind his desk when Kirk left the room. The fear was like a chain of mail, wrapped around him. He didn't need his wife to himself. Their relationship wasn't that temporary. He'd wanted to say that.
    But he hadn't.
    He couldn't.

    CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

    Dean took so long with his father that Kelly fell asleep. Propped on a half-dozen pillows and clutching a paperback, she slept until the switching off of the lamp on her night table woke her.
    "Mpf." She struggled upright, disoriented. Where was her pink lampshade nightlight? Where was the smell of cabbage that always seemed to come from Mrs. Rosen's place downstairs?
    "Kelly," a deep voice said, and she remembered she wasn't in her apartment in Las Vegas. She was in Dean's luxurious, ugly house. His hand landed on her hip.
    "Dean." Kelly tried to remember why he was coming in late, why he hadn't fallen asleep by her side. Oh, that was right. His father— She tried to wake more fully. They had to talk.
    But then Dean's tongue licked the rim of her ear. It was a familiar gesture, a prelude. Muzzy as Kelly's brain was, her body got the message immediately. She plunged into a state of need. "Dean..."
    He understood her unspoken desire. He pulled her close. She could feel the rough hair of his chest through the thin material of her negligee. She could smell his own special scent. Sparkles of sensation quivered over her skin.
    "Never mind," Kelly gasped. Whatever they were supposed to talk about, it could wait. She wiggled against him.
    Dean growled. In a sudden, almost violent burst of motion, he lowered Kelly to her back.
    In the dark, their eyes met. Kelly could see in Dean's a strange and heavy need. She almost stopped everything. He looked to be in pain. Then Dean nudged her thighs apart. The expression on his face turned intent, determined, utterly masculine. Kelly felt her own need rise, stopping her questions. She helped him find his place. In one smooth motion, he plunged in.
    "Oh, Dean," Kelly sobbed.
    "Very— Yes."
    It had become familiar, this ecstasy at the joining of their bodies, but it was still a spinning that went up to her head. Dean grunted and began to pump. Kelly's eyes widened. "That's so...good," she rasped out.
    "Yes," Dean agreed on a hiss. He grabbed Kelly's hips and continued the mating rhythm; hot, heavy, desperate.
    Indeed, it was rough and hard, not the way they'd been these past few weeks. It was...raw emotion. "Keep...going," Kelly begged. She curled her fingers over his shoulders and squeezed. Above her she felt the movement of his muscles, the damp of his exertion. Her nerves began to tighten, every fiber reaching. She began to gasp. This was going to be amazing.
    And it was. Her whole body went off like a firecracker. At the same moment Dean arched and went taut against her.
    "Kelly," he groaned.
    She felt her eyes begin to tear. She wasn't even sure why. Their coupling had been amazing, fantastic. Still, it made her weepy. Something wasn't right. "Dean," she murmured, and relaxed her fingers to stroke her hands down his chest.
    "Shh," he said, and pulled her against his body.
    "But I don't—"
    "Shh," he said again, low. "Just... Let's be quiet."
    Let's be quiet? She wanted to know what was wrong. But Dean clearly didn't want to tell her. He only held her close, and at length the warmth of his body and the exhaustion of her own got the better of her. She fell fast asleep.
    ~~~
    The next morning Kelly woke up alone in her big bed. She squinted at the empty place beside her, then looked around the room. No sound came from the bathroom. Dean wasn't even in her suite.
    With a groan she sat up. She couldn't believe it. She'd wanted to talk to Dean last night. She'd been determined to make him open up. He needed to talk about his father and whatever was bothering him.
    Instead she'd let the man have his fine way with her and now he was gone.
    Kelly rubbed her forehead and wondered if Dean had planned it that way. Had he wanted to avoid the issue?
    She got dressed and went downstairs, upset she even had to consider Dean might be back to using sex in order to avoid a meaningful conversation.
    At the bottom of the