Montana Darling (Big Sky Mavericks Book 3) (18 page)

His humor eased her self-consciousness. He read her well, which she found a little unnerving, but, at the same time, she wanted to see where this connection took them. She had a goal in mind and she was ready to go there. Sooner, rather than later.

“Who am I to come between a man and his fetish?” she said, turning her arm to accommodate the kisses as his lips reached her wrist. “But, I’m more of an action-adventure kind of girl versus sweet but boring chick flick. Could we cut to the chase?”

He looked hurt. “That was my kind, sensitive, let’s-take-this-slow-because-it’s-her-first-time technique. You’re saying it’s boring?”

She gave him a push and tackled him. “I’m saying, I’m horny. It might be my first time in a long while, but believe me, I do know what goes where and how.”

“Then the only thing missing is the when.”

“Exactly.”

“How does now sound?” He reached for her jeans and quickly unbuttoned and unzipped. “Flip around,” he ordered, nodding toward the foot of the bed.

Once she was re-situated, he grabbed the still-wet hems of her jeans and tugged. Mia lifted her hips to help the process. “Shazamm,” he cried, tossing her pants to the floor.

She expected him to do the same, but he surprised her. He stepped onto the mattress and with a grace born of yoga, no doubt, stripped off his shirt, cargo pants, socks and thigh-length undershorts. Then, he held out his hand.

She only hesitated a moment. The mother in her cried, “No monkeys jumping on the bed,” but the woman in her wanted her mostly naked body against his completely naked body any way she could get it.

They bounced awkwardly a moment then found they balanced as a single entity. He had a good five or six inches on her—height-wise. His other five or six inches pressed hard against her belly.

Her woman parts blossomed with heat and need. She practiced a few belly dancer moves that made him murmur with a groan, “Woman, you turn me into a beast. Screw finesse.”

He jumped from the bed and turned to reach for her. She wobbled two steps but he stopped her at the edge of the mattress. “Right there. Turn about is fair play, my darling.”

His darling? The old-fashioned word made her smile. He’d said it earlier, too. She was nobody’s darling. Never had been. She was about to say so until his hands parted the curls at the apex of her thighs and his tongue took the words away.

He toyed with her, dipping and tasting the same way he kissed. Each lick brought her closer to the edge. “Oh, my God. I’d forgotten how good that feels. How in…cred…i…ble.” The last syllable disappeared in the crescendo of her climax. Pulse after pulse of glorious vibration. Too soon. Totally unexpected. She’d never climaxed like that with…before.

Her knees gave out. She would have fallen if not for Ryker, who swept her into his arms and carried her to the head of the bed. He leaned over to deposit her gently on the pillow.

“That was lovely,” she said, still a bit breathless.

“Yes. You are.”

“That’s a terribly cheesy line.”

“I’ve got a million of ’em.”

A sweet tenderness she hadn’t expected blossomed in her chest. She liked him more than she thought. A lot more. Love-like, even. Not love. She didn’t do love anymore. But love-like.

Is that even a word? she wondered.

She didn’t know, but it worked for now.

*

Ryker stepped back
and looked at her lying boneless, her beautiful spirit glowing. She never saw this aspect of herself, he was sure.

He knew better than to ask permission to photograph her. That would come later when she trusted him, but he wanted to memorize this image forever, so he held an imaginary camera to his eye and said, “Click.”

She opened her eyes.

“Click.”

Her brow wrinkled delicately.

“Click.”

“What are you doing?”

“Imprinting how beautiful you are in my mind forever. Click.”

Her arms crossed defensively over her chest.

“I’m not beautiful. I’m not even whole.”

“You’re more than the sum of your body parts, Mia. Why don’t you know that?” He pretended to toss his imaginary camera over his shoulder. “Would you think less of yourself if you were missing a foot?”

He knelt on the mattress and took her right foot in his hands. He massaged the sole and kissed each toe. “Bailey’s father lost a leg, but Louise still loves him. In fact, she told me their marriage is on solid footing for the first time in years. Oddly ironic, wouldn’t you say?”

She squirmed like a sexy naked nymph when he tickled her digits.

“Not the same. Boobs aren’t feet.”

She sat up and held out her arms. “Can we stop talking and make love instead?”

“Can I get you take off your bra?”

The air went ice cold, as if the ghost of her pre-cancer self walked between them. She looked at her chest, not breathing. He hesitated, fearing he’d pushed her too fast. “Never mind. Forget I asked. I don’t care, Mia. It’s not important to me. I think it might be to you, but, really, it’s not a big de—.”

She grabbed the elasticized bottom of the bra with both hands and yanked upward, like someone ripping off a bandage. Ryker’s heart stopped a moment. He froze in panic. This was what he’d asked for but, now, he was terrified he’d blow it and say or do the wrong thing.

Feel what she’s feeling
, a voice in his head told him.

He put one hand flat to her upper chest. “Your heart’s beating just as fast as mine. We need to slow down before we both hyperventilate.”

She looked into his eyes with a hint of incredulity. Then she smiled and started to laugh. The movement of her chest under his hand brought him in contact with her breasts, and he looked down. They were perfectly matched in size and shape. Two lovely white globes. Almost perfect. Almost.

She cupped them, like a shopper debating which casaba to buy. “No nipples. Hideous, don’t you think?” She glanced at him. “You’re the first to see the finished product. Are you grossed out? Be honest.”

Ryker felt an embarrassing prickling sensation behind his eyes. The weight on his chest made it hard to breathe. His throat went dry and he barely managed to choke out, “Hideous? God, no.” He very gently brushed his fingertips across the arc of her left breast. “Gross? How can you say that? They’re beautiful, Mia. They show your courage.”

She studied his face, looking for deceit, he assumed, but he meant every word. He didn’t know why she was so hard on herself, but her body was lovely and, now that the big reveal had passed, he very much wanted to make love with her.

He stretched out on the bed and held out his arms, praying she’d lie down beside him. “I’m honored to be the first, but this is definitely new territory for me, Mia. I don’t want to hurt you. And I’m curious what you’ll feel when I touch you.”

She swallowed. “Nothing. Everybody says there’s no sensation. These babies are just for show. All the delicious, titillating tingles that went from nipples to other erogenous zones are gone. After every fill, I’d swear that was the last, but my doctor promised I’d be happier if I went all the way back to my original size.”

Her bravery and strength humbled him.

He touched her carefully. Apparently, too carefully. She flattened his hand against one breast and jiggled it. “Pretend they’re real.”

He squeezed and massaged her breast as he would any woman’s.

Mia watched, her eyes misty with tears.

He scooted down and nuzzled his chin in the dip between her breasts. The tone of her breathing changed. Her fingers moved into his hair as she made a purring sound.

He inched lower, kissing the underside of her breasts, her ribs and her bellybutton. Ryker wanted to make this good for them both, but when she touched him—as she had that day in the tent—his brain short-circuited. He gulped loudly.

Her grin looked downright naughty. “I brought protec—”

“Of course, you did. But I’m not the slacker you obviously think I am.” He grinned to make sure she knew he was kidding before he flopped on his back to reach into the drawer of the bedside table. He’d already opened the box and scattered the little purple packages about for simplicity sake. He ripped open one and sheathed himself before added a glistening drop of warming lubricant to the tip.

“Wet is nice, but slick heat is even better, I’ve been told.”

When he turned back he realized she’d been watching his every movement. The hunger he saw in her eyes made him even harder. “You have no idea how badly I want you,” he said, moving into position between her legs.

“Then, take me.”

Simple. Profound.

But first, he touched his middle finger to the shiny gel and transferred a small dot to the nub he found in her nest of dark curls. Her hips jumped in response as he flicked his fingertip back and forth.

“Magic. Oh, God, that’s…” Words left her as she writhed to his touch. When her cries quickened, he entered her in one smooth, sleek push. Her throaty moan brought him right to the edge, but he managed to hang on to his control. He focused on their rocking motion, building a slow burn in unison.

She locked her arms around his shoulders and met his thrusts with a powerful pelvic tilt of her own. They climbed to the summit as individuals but when his climax hit, he felt her body explode and clench convulsively in tune to his own.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight as their breathing slowly returned to normal. The air around them cooled. They’d have to get under the covers soon, but Ryker didn’t want to lose their connection. His heart felt swamped with emotion. Feelings he’d kept bottled up for too long. Feelings he never expected to return. But they had. In a big way.

The words “I love you” almost popped out of his mouth, but he caught them in time. He wasn’t in love. Couldn’t be. Conventional wisdom told him it was too soon. But he could
love
Mia. As he’d loved other women over the years and across several continents, reveling in each other for as long as their time together lasted. Days? Weeks? Months? Time was relative.

He wasn’t doing the forever thing again—look how that turned out. Luckily, Mia seemed to be on the same page.

She moved first, sliding off the bed to hurry into the bathroom across the hall. He didn’t notice she’d picked up her bra and panties until she came back in a few minutes later wearing her undergarments.

He’d cleaned up and disposed of the condom and was waiting under the sheets.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” He flipped back the other side of the covers, invitingly.

He watched her silent debate. Finally, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “It is a little brisk in here.” Two steps and she burrowed under the covers beside him.

He wrapped her in his arms. “That was pretty wonderful, Mia. Thank you.”

“Umm…you’re welcome?” She laughed in a way that told him she was embarrassed. “I haven’t been in the dating world for a long time. Is that how we handle after-sex talk?”

He shrugged. “We handle it any way that feels right. I feel thankful. I haven’t been with someone for over a year.”

Mia turned into him. She put one palm to the side of his face. “Since your fiancée was killed?”

He nodded.

“That’s really too horrible to imagine. Can you talk about her? Or is it still too painful?”

He hadn’t talked about Colette in a long time. Not since Christmas with Flynn. “Her name was Colette. She was twenty-six. When we met, she was a volunteer with an international aid foundation that served children in third-world countries. Sort of like UNICEF, only on a smaller, more intimate scale. They’d build a school or put in a well or provide dental services for a village. Hands-on. The glass company she worked for in Paris had given her six months of paid salary to help the project install new windows in a school they were building.”

“In Africa?”

“Yes. I’d heard about the school and offered to photograph the project to help them raise awareness. Colette was very beautiful and photogenic and great with kids. Donations poured in…along with marriage proposals,” he added, remembering his shock when she read some of the emails to him.

He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to Mia’s. “I filed my story then stayed to pitch in until the job was done. We fell in love while we worked in the hot African sun. When the wing was completed, I followed her back to France. We decided to buy a house together. We were talking wedding when she found out she was pregnant. She’d just passed the first trimester. In fact, that was the first day she felt really well. She begged to go for a bike ride.”

He couldn’t say any more. The images were too harsh. He’d tried everything—booze, sleeping pills, and mindless television at his brother’s—to keep the memory of that last day from repeating on an endless loop in his mind.

He expected her to say the words everyone said. “I’m sorry. That’s terrible. How very sad.”

But she didn’t. She pressed her body to his and held him, wordlessly, but with a silent empathy that touched his soul. For how long? He didn’t have a clue. All he knew was the cloud that usually descended when he thought about Colette and the baby lifted and gradually disappeared.