Her breathing was getting fast as her body responded to everything he was doing. Just as erotic was the way they looked at each other. She kept telling herself to close her eyes, to lose herself in the sensations, but she couldn’t. She needed to watch him watching her.
“There’s a spot inside,” he said quietly, his finger pushing in deeper. “Right about here.”
She groaned. It was as if he were rubbing her clitoris from the inside as well. No, that wasn’t right. It was different but exquisitely delicious. She pressed down, wanting more, needing more.
“Yes,” he breathed. “Just like that.” He swallowed and swore softly. “Watching you like this is killing me.”
She wanted to say something, but couldn’t speak. Her body wasn’t her own anymore—it was a vessel of pleasure, driven by Simon’s touch. She was unable to do anything but feel the waves, the building pressure.
Her climax was inevitable. She could practically see it in the distance. But there was no hurry, not when the journey felt this good.
He moved a little faster, pressed a little harder. Her breathing quickened even more as her muscles began to tremble. She pulsed her hips in time with his movements and then, without warning, lost herself in her release.
The crash caught her unawares. One second she was straining for more, the next bliss surrounded her, claimed her. The waves came one after the other, going on and on and still he touched her, drawing it out, and still her gaze locked with his. She let him see this most intimate thing, wanting him to feel it, experience it with her. She rode him until the waves subsided and her breathing returned to normal.
When she was done, he withdrew slowly, then bent over and kissed her. As she wrapped her arms around him, she felt he was trembling as well. “Simon?”
Without answering, he shifted so he was between her legs. He grabbed the condom box without being asked and quickly put one on. Then he was slowly pushing inside her.
He filled her even more than she’d thought he would. As her body stretched to accommodate him, she wrapped her legs around his hips and put her hands on his back.
He stilled.
She didn’t understand at first, then realized she was touching his scars.
“This is where I remind you that you find me irresistible.”
He stared at her.
“Simon, you saw my soul.”
She could see the battle raging inside him. Would he trust her enough? Then he pressed his mouth against hers before pushing in her deeply.
She ran her hands up and down his back, urging him on, even as he thrust inside her over and over again. She lost herself in the way his muscles tightened, the way his pupils dilated. She could feel him getting closer, could see it in his face. The combination aroused her and she found herself traveling down that path again.
Deeper and deeper. Faster and faster. Rushing toward the inevitable.
The contractions began again, starting deeper this time. Deep inside, pulsing outward. She could barely breathe, but forced herself to keep her eyes open, to let him see what he had done to her again. He pushed in one last time, impossibly deep. Their bodies trembled in unison. She gasped, he groaned. And then they were still.
AFTER, WITH SIMON, WAS EASY. If Montana had thought about it she might have assumed it would be awkward. Instead they slid under the covers as if they’d made love in this bed a thousand times before. They wrapped their arms around each other, still needing to be close.
He touched her hair, stroking the length of it, brushing it back from her face. His expression was relaxed in a way she’d never seen before. He looked almost boyish. Unguarded. She was aware that they were lying such that his facial scars were pressed into the pillow, but that was okay with her. She understood that his need to keep them hidden wasn’t even conscious anymore. It was simply something he did.
“Thank you,” he said.
She smiled. “Given what you did to my body, that should be my line.”
He didn’t smile in return. If anything, he looked more serious. “I can’t stay.”
“After sex or in general?”
“When my time is up, I’ll be leaving Fool’s Gold.”
Oh, that. “Yes, Peru. I know. Not the most romantic postcoital declaration I’ve ever heard.”
“Montana, I’m not playing a game. You need to understand….”
“That you’ll leave.” She rolled onto her back. “It would be good for you to stay.”
“I can’t.”
“You won’t.”
“I won’t.”
She turned her head to look at him. “Because there are people who need you?”
“Yes.”
“They could come to you here.”
“Not all of them.”
“You can’t heal all of them.”
“I can try.”
“That’s a lot of pressure.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t matter. You don’t know what it’s like. There are places where people die because they don’t have access to clean water. I do what I can. It’s my job.”
It was more than his job, but he already knew that. Telling him that saving the world wouldn’t save
“It’s not a gift if you have to keep paying for it,” she whispered.
“I know.”
He kissed her then, probably because he wanted to shut her up. She didn’t complain. Whatever the outcome, being in Simon’s arms right now was the best place in the world.
SIMON MADE HIS WAY BACK to the hotel late Saturday morning. He needed to go into the hospital to check on a few patients and clear his head. Then he would return to Montana’s house.
He reluctantly went to shower. The scent of her lingered on his skin. As the hot water hit his muscles, he told himself he would see her later. He would lose himself in her again and for those few hours he could forget about everything.
After he’d dried off, he dressed and was about to leave when someone knocked on his door. He opened it and found Montana’s mother standing in the hotel hallway.
“Bobby down at the front desk said you’d come up a little while ago,” she said with a smile.
“Ah, yes. I was out this morning.”
He rarely felt guilty about the women in his life, but staring at Denise Hendrix, he felt as small as a sixteen- year-old caught making out in the backseat of the family car.
Remembering his manners, he stepped back. “Please, come in.”
She stepped inside the hotel room and raised the cloth bag she carried. “Montana mentioned your suite came with a refrigerator and a microwave. I thought you might be getting tired of eating out all the time, so I made you a couple of casseroles. It’s sort of a Fool’s Gold thing.”
He’d slept with her daughter and she’d brought him food? He would guess she didn’t know about last night, but still. He could feel himself flushing.
“Thank you,” he said, taking the bag from her. “That was very nice of you.”
“One is a Mexican dish. It’s a little spicy. The other is Italian—plenty of meat and pasta. It was my late husband’s favorite.”
Simon told himself that the fact that he was slime was something he would deal with later. Right now he only had to get through the next five or ten minutes.
She gave him the heating instructions, then waited until he’d loaded the dishes into his small refrigerator and took back her cloth bag.
