Instead of getting mad or telling her she was an idiot, he started to laugh. A deep sound that rose from his chest and filled the room. There was relief in his laughter and something that sounded very much like sheer happiness. She found herself smiling along, then he scooped her up in his arms.
She shrieked and hung on to him.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, not at all comfortable to be in the air.
“Having my way with you.”
He lowered her to the bed. He stepped back and quickly removed the rest of his clothes. In that second before he joined her, she had a quick glimpse of the rest of him. He was, as she’d guessed, the non-boring form of perfect. Long legs with well-defined muscles. A flat belly, narrow h*ps and an erection that made her insides get even more squishy in anticipation.
Then he was beside her, pulling her close and kissing her.
His mouth claimed hers with a passion that would have made it impossible to stay standing. She felt his need and it fueled her own. She parted her lips and he thrust his tongue inside. That dance was no less exciting for being familiar. If anything, knowing what he could do to her mouth only made her want more.
He shifted and slipped his hand beneath her, easily unfastening her bra. He removed it and tossed it over her shoulder. She probably should have heard it hit the floor, but her senses were otherwise distracted by the feel of his warm, wet mouth on her bare breasts.
She needed to find a word that was better than exquisite. Some way to describe the combination of lips and tongue swirling and sucking and teasing and caressing. Deep, slow tugs sent liquid desire seeping to all parts of her body. She was already wet and swollen, beyond ready. When he moved his attention to her other breast, she squirmed wanting to feel him inside her.
She’d never been big on the intercourse thing. Sure, it was okay, but she’d never felt an overwhelming desire to be claimed in that way. It was just something you did.
This time was different. This time she wanted Simon inside her, taking her.
That was it, she realized. She wanted to be claimed. If there was some way for him to mark her, she wanted that as well. She wanted to carry the very brand of him forever.
Unable to stand it any longer, she stretched out her arm and blindly felt for her nightstand drawer. When she found the knob, she pulled it open. She’d made a recent purchase of condoms. She pushed him back and pulled off her panties. Then she urged him between her legs and reached for him.
He filled her hand, thick and hard. She tried to draw him closer but he put his hand on her breast, holding her in place.
One eyebrow rose. “What are you doing?”
She felt frantic and hungry. Desperate. “I want you inside me.”
“Not yet.”
He sounded more amused than irritated, which was probably good.
“I’m taking charge. Okay, I’m not very good at it, but you should just go with it. I need to practice.”
“I want you to come first.”
“I will.” Which probably wasn’t true, but he didn’t need to know that. “Simon.” His name came out as a plea. “Just be inside me.”
“I promise we’ll get to that. But I have a few fantasies of my own I need fulfilled.”
She dropped her hand. “About me?”
“You are the only one I fantasize about. Sometimes when I’m walking in the hospital I imagine doing things to you.”
Her body went limp and she didn’t even know the details. “What kind of things?”
“Do you want to know the legal ones? Or the illegal ones?”
Her breath caught. “Both.”
“That’s a lot to show you.”
He rolled onto his side so they were next to each other on the bed. He propped his head on one hand and moved the other between her still open thighs.
“Sometimes I think about doing this,” he said, parting her sensitive folds of skin and easing his fingers into the swollen wetness. “I wonder what you’ll feel like, how you’ll respond. I think about exploring you.”
As he spoke, he moved slowly, as if discovering every part of her. He brushed over her most sensitive spot, making her muscles tighten, then moved on to slip a finger inside her.
“I thought I knew how good it would be, but I was wrong,” he murmured, still watching her. “This is better.”
“Great,” she managed, knowing she wouldn’t be able to talk much longer. Not when he moved his fingers back to that yummy spot.
“I’ve thought about touching you here.” He ran his fingers over and around. “What it would feel like. How you liked it. Slow?” He reduced his pace until he was barely moving. “Fast?” He sped up.
Her breath caught. “Either.”
He shifted his hand so his thumb rubbed her center while he pushed a finger inside her. “I wanted to do this.”
The combination of sensations was incredible. The steady pressure of his thumb circling around and around, made her draw up her knees and dig her heels into the mattress.
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 cl**ax 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 h*ps 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 h*ps 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 him was dramatic, and true, but also wouldn’t help. He used his job as a way to heal, not just others, but himself as well.
“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.
“Are you enjoying yourself while you’re here?” she asked.
He nearly choked. “Yes. The people around here are friendly. My patients are always a pleasure. Even the difficult ones.”
“What you do is amazing.”
“Sometimes. Not often enough.” He thought of Kalinda and the years of surgery ahead of her. He wanted to make her journey easier, but didn’t know another way.
He waited to see if Denise would ask him about Montana or perhaps warn him away. Instead she talked about the festival, the weather and suggested a few places for him to visit. Then she excused herself and left.
Simon stood in the center of the room, confused by her visit. The food was the obvious reason, but why had she done that? And then he remembered. There were people who were simply nice. The majority of children grew up in stable homes, feeling loved and cared for. What he knew, what he and the Freddies of the world had experienced, was the exception.
“IT’S OPEN,” Montana called when he knocked on her door, later that afternoon.
He walked in to find her carrying a tray with a bottle of wine and cut up sandwiches.
“If I’m going to have my way with you again later, you’ll need to keep your strength up.”