Beyond Redemption (7 page)

He breached the opening with one brutal thrust, refusing to give her any quarter, and when he pulled back, she couldn’t help herself. She cried out in pleasure. “Jesus. Oh, Mitch.”

Loud moans filled the room as Mitch continued his assault, fingers sliding deep into her pussy, thrusting as her hips heaved in time with him. “That’s right. Give it to me, Angel. Come for me, honey.” He pinched her nipples, and she cried out.

“Christ! I’m gonna come.”

He deserted her nipples and used his free hand to torment her clit. “You’re so hot, baby,” Mitch cooed, then flicked his hips, easing back, then thrusting deep once more. As she panted, he began to move with purpose, setting a pounding rhythm guaranteed to drive her insane.

She was on fire! Mitch was buried deep in her ass, thrusting, stretching her even as his fingers worked in concert with the cock tunneling up her ass. She was going to come screaming.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Acosta. The whole camp will hear me. I’m gonna come. Finish me!”

He was fucking her hard now, slamming into her as she came, seeking his own release. “Ah. Fuck, yeah,” he shouted.

Angelique’s knees gave out, and she sank onto the mattress. Mitch followed her down, still buried inside her ass. She was going to be sore tomorrow, but right now she was floating on an orgasmic cloud that left her mind in a fog and her body exhausted. At last, Mitch pulled out of her and settled her on the bed, tucking her close as they both fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, an exhausted Angelique filled a day pack and a small cooler with supplies and headed into the village to make her weekly round of house calls. Some of the older residents either couldn’t make the trek up the mountain to the clinic or they were too afraid to be seen consorting with the Americans. Gradually, they’d come to accept Angelique and allowed her to treat them.

As she started down the path, Acosta came out of the jungle and fell into step beside her.

She quickened her pace, hoping he’d get the hint. He didn’t. “Are you following me?”

He smiled, teeth white in a deeply tanned face. “To the ends of the earth, Angel.”

Jesus, what was it going to take? “Go away, Mitch. Wasn’t last night enough for you?”

“No can do, babe. And no way. I’ll never get enough of you.”

She skidded to a stop. “What is it you want? Seriously, what do think is going to happen? You think I’m just going to fall into your arms again?”

He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts. “I miss you, and I want you back, Angel. And the falling into my arms works for me. But today, I’m here to help you with your rounds. Like I used to do whenever I was in the same village with you.”

She started down the trail again, shouting at him. “I don’t need your help with rounds, nothing is the way it used to be, and you can’t get back something you never had. You can force yourself on me, the way you did last night, but I will never willingly let you back in my bed.”

“Forced myself on you?” She could hear the anger in his voice. “You were begging for it like a cat in heat, Doc, and you damn well know it.”

She spun to face him and gave him a hard shove. “So what?” She shoved him again. “You think you’re different from any of the other pretty boys I fuck? And there have been dozens of them, Mitch. Dozens. All of them gorgeous. All of them with hot bods and nice big dicks. You’re nothing special, and there will be no happily ever after with me. Got it? Now go away and let me do my job.” She raised her hand in greeting to her first stop of the morning.

“
Hola
, poppy,” Angelique called to the elderly man sitting on a wooden stool outside his little shack. She referred to most of the elders as “poppy” or “mommy.” She’d begun by speaking to all of them in Spanish, but a few wanted to learn English so she tried to speak her native tongue to those who could understand her.

She ignored Acosta’s presence and grasped the old man’s wrist to check his pulse. “How is your toe today? Are you taking your medicine?”

The old man gave her toothless grin. “Sí, Doctor. I take the medicine. The foot is look good, no?”

Angelique squatted and lifted his foot to her knee, offering up a big smile. “Sí, it does. Much better. No more organ meat, sí? No heart, no liver. Bad for joints, okay? And no liquor.” She pulled her blood pressure cuff out of her pack and checked his pressure, smiling when it came back as close to normal as it had been in quite some time. “It’s getting better, poppy. You need more pills?”

He nodded. “Yes. Not so many left.”

She dug around her pack and found the medications he’d need to treat his high blood pressure and his gout, and reminded him again how to take it.

“Less meat and more vegetables, okay? Much water. You need me to go to the well and fill your jugs for you?”

The old man waved her away. “I can get.”

Angelique gently placed his foot on the ground and patted his knee. “I tell you what. You make me a cup of your good coffee, and I’ll fill your water jugs for you. Deal?” When she stood, her knees cracked, and the old man laughed. “Oh, you think that’s funny, do you? I’m getting old.”

He struggled to his feet, tapping his own chest. “Guillermo is old. Pretty doctor is just a girl.”

Angelique kissed his grizzled cheek and fanned herself. “Guillermo is a tease.” She ducked inside his hut, dropped her gear, and retrieved a plastic cooler with a spigot and several plastic jugs, then headed for the well. “Coffee,” she reminded him when he tried to take the cooler from her.

And so it went for the next three hours, tending the sick, checking to see wounds were healing the way they should, Acosta tagging along the entire time. She didn’t get it. How could he be so gentle and kind one moment, and cruel enough to shoot a man between the eyes the next? It was too easy to forget what he’d become in the face of the generosity he showed to those most in need. And yet something had transformed him into the hardened mercenary who had forced her to submit to him last night. It was as if there were two Mitch Acostas, and the frustrating part was that she never knew which one she was going to see on any given day. Here he was hauling water and tending gardens after she’d thrown in his face the fact that she’d slept with dozens of men, insisting he was but one of many. None of it made any sense. Angelique groaned and reached for the five-gallon water container she’d filled while Acosta picked vegetables for the last patient of the day. She narrowed her eyes at him when he hurried to her and hefted the heavy load as if it weighed nothing.

“Nobody expects you to be a mule. And if you’d called me, I would have done this for you.”

“They need medicine; I bring medicine. They need water; I haul water. And I don’t need your help.”

“Angel, I’ve been hauling water for you all morning,” Acosta said, using his most charming smile on her. “Can’t you just say thank you and forget it, or does everything have to be a battle with you?”

“Thank you,” she simpered. “And yes, everything does have to be a battle.”

He shook his head. “I don’t see why. We were good together. You still want me. Seems silly to mess up a good thing over a little disagreement.”

Angelique sighed, scrubbed at her face with her hands. “A little disagreement. You let me believe a lie, and that’s a disagreement? Like I told you before, Mitch, a sin of omission is just a fancy name for a lie.”

It was always the same old argument with Acosta. He refused to accept the fact that she wanted nothing more to do with him. Probably because he was right and last night had proved it. He’d made tender love to her several more times as the night grew into morning. They had been good together, and she did still want him. But that changed nothing. She felt the familiar heat of tears, and her throat ached with the effort to hold her feelings inside. She’d never forget, not as long as she lived, the day he revealed the real Mitch Acosta to her. The day he’d executed that man right before her eyes.

They ducked inside an old woman’s hut, and Acosta set the water on a makeshift counter for her. She reached for Angelique’s hand and kissed it, thanking her for all she had done. She did the same with Acosta, who asked if she needed anything else before they left. Angelique said her good-byes and hurried outside, not wanting to see this side of the man she struggled to keep at arm’s length. But there was no getting away from him. As she hurried up the worn path that led to the hospital, Acosta stepped out of the lush foliage and grabbed her by the arm.

“If everything between us has to be a battle, even after last night, then so be it,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I’m going to win this one, Angel. I’m always going to win.” He lifted her off her feet and hauled her into the jungle.

“Damn you, Acosta. Put me down!”

He set her on her feet, slipped the day pack from her shoulders, and backed her up against a tree. She’d hate herself later, but she wanted this, wanted him, so badly she was already wet. She balled her hands into fists, wanting to punch him, knowing she didn’t have the will because Acosta was going to do what he did best. He was going to take her. Strip her of her inhibitions. He’d have her panting and dripping and doing exactly what he wanted her to do, begging him to fuck her.

He made short work of her cargo shorts, then pressed his mouth against her mound through her cotton bikini panties.

“Stop it, Mitch. I don’t want this.” The words came out weak, breathless, and she knew what he’d find the second he touched her.

He slid his hands beneath her underwear, eased them down, and tested her with a finger. “Liar. You’re so wet I could take you right now and you’d come.” He opened her with his thumbs, stroking her inner lips gently. He grazed her clit with his tongue, and she moaned, prompting a sexy chuckle. “Oh yeah, you want me, Angel. You wanted me last night, even when I was using you hard, and you want me now.” He held her open, tormented her with his talented mouth until she was thrusting against his face. “I’m leaving this afternoon, honey. Nobody has to know. Just say it. Tell me you want me. I can fuck you so good. You know I can.”

Angelique clenched her teeth to keep from screaming when Acosta closed his lips over her clit and sucked gently. He penetrated her with his fingers.

He lifted his head. “Say it.”

“No,” she whispered stubbornly; then he expertly swirled his tongue around her clit and she broke. “Yes, damn you. Fuck me.”

“Take your shirt off, honey. Unhook your bra so I can touch those pretty breasts. You’ve put on some weight, baby; you’re filling out again.”

When she did as he demanded, he spun her around. There was a tearing sound, and she was thankful one of them had the presence of mind to remember a condom. Strong hands manipulated her body into position, lifted her buttocks up and apart. She made a little mewling noise when the head of his cock pressed against her pussy lips. She spread her legs wider and tipped her bottom up, the better to receive him.

“That’s right, Angel. God, you’ve got the sweetest pussy. I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He drove into her, filling her with a single thrust that had her on her tiptoes. Work-worn hands skimmed up her sides, gently teasing as he slid them around to cup her breasts, to pinch and tug at her nipples. “Ah, yeah. It’s like coming home, being inside you.”

Angelique stifled the howl that threatened to erupt from her throat as Acosta’s thick cock hammered into her. There was no way to control the orgasm beginning to build inside her. Acosta was curved over her, fucking her hard and fast, whispering to her.

“Aw, honey, you’ve got the tightest pussy.” He slowed his pace, eased back, glided in slow and deep, swirled his hips. “So hot and tight, I just want to fuck you all night long.” He did it again, nipped her ear when she whimpered. “I want to get you someplace clean and cool with a big, soft bed. Eat your pussy till you scream for me to fuck you.” He reached around her hip, found her clit, and stroked as he fucked her. “I want to fuck that sweet mouth. Fill your sweet ass with my cock. Everything, Angel. I want it all. Just like it used to be. Just like last night. Every night.”

She was gasping now, meeting him thrust for thrust as his impending release drove him hard and fast. Her clit and pussy felt as if they were on fire, the heat building and building. She was going to come, hard, and she couldn’t stifle the sounds erupting from her throat.

“Yes…hard, hard. God…so good, so good.” He pistoned his hips, the slap of bodies echoing through the air. “I’m gonna…oooh.” Angelique tossed her head back and howled. He grazed her neck with his teeth, closing over the tendon there, biting down. Her body stiffened in an explosion of heat that washed over her from her pussy to her belly, and then she began to shudder. Mitch thrust through the contractions, one arm holding her upright as her knees turned to water, and with a final thrust, buried himself to the root with a triumphant shout.

Tears welled, then dripped down her face. Damn Acosta. And damn herself for a fool. Would she never learn? Over and over again, he came to her, and over and over again she rejected him only to wind up in this same condition—gasping for breath after the most intense orgasms any man had ever given her. Why this man when she hated everything he stood for? How could she despise him one minute and twist beneath him like a drug-starved junkie the next? It wasn’t fair.

Angelique shuddered when he kissed her neck, her shoulders, then slid from her body. She didn’t want to face him, couldn’t face him. She blinked away the tears, cringing when he uttered a soft curse. He cupped her shoulders with his rough hands and turned her to face him.

“Don’t cry, Angel.” He took her in his arms, rocking her side to side, softly crooning to her in Spanish. Nonsense phrases mothers everywhere used to comfort their children. She took a deep breath, shoved at him, relieved when he let her go.

“This will never happen again, Acosta.” She bent to pick up her clothes and turned her back on him as she dressed.

A bitter laugh escaped him. “You know that’s not true. It’s going to happen every time I’m in camp. Your mind may tell you hating me is the moral thing to do, but your body craves what I do to it. What I’ll keep on doing to it until you realize we were meant to be together.”