From the Beginning (29 page)

She put her fingers over his mouth. “I said a lot of stupid things that day. I couldn’t see past my own grief and pain to yours. Were you wrong to leave Gabby at the end? Yeah, I think you were. Do I understand why you did it? Yes. And I think, so did she. One of the last things she told me was not to be mad at you. That we were going to need each other.

“She’s probably angry at me—I’ve done a lousy job of following her advice so far. God knows, she was full of instructions that last week.”

He laughed. “That sounds like her. She was a bossy one.”

“She took after her dad.”

“Yeah, right. I’m the bossy one in the family.” He sobered quickly as he realized what he’d said. He glanced at Amanda, tried to gauge if he should backtrack, but she was smiling.

“I’m glad you finally admit it.”

“That’s not quite what I meant.”

“Yes, well, you said it. And I’m choosing to take you at face value.”

“Amanda.”

“Yes?” She looked at him, her face as serious as his tone had been. In that moment there was so much he wanted to say to her, so many feelings welling up inside of him, that he didn’t know where to start. Didn’t know how to tell her everything he felt.

In the end, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with all of the rioting emotions inside of him, hoping like hell that she understood everything he was trying to say.

AMANDA MELTED AT THE FIRST touch of Simon’s lips on her own. Rolling over for better access, she wrapped her arms and legs around him until she couldn’t be certain where she stopped and he began. Exactly how she liked it.

She ran her fingers over the early-morning stubble on his jaw, smoothed them over his soft lips, then shifted so she could tangle them in the too-long hair at the base of his neck. Only then did she give herself over to the kiss, to him and the emotions that were ripping at every hidden scar she had.

This was a bad idea. She knew it. It was too much, too soon, too everything, and yet she was going to do it, anyway. Because Simon needed her and she needed him and there was no way she was going to walk away now. Not when she wanted this so bad.

Simon might have initiated the kiss, but she took over in the space of one heartbeat. He felt so good that she wanted nothing more than to lie here with him forever. Savoring him and this moment of absolute accord between them.

Her lips moved against his and she explored him, slowly, not like the other times when she tried to take as much of him as she could before she came to her senses. This time, she wasn’t going to do that. She was going to savor every second of it.

Opening her mouth, she swept her tongue along his lower lip. Softly, sweetly, asking, not demanding. She felt the curve of his lips that told her he was smiling.

She toyed with the lush fullness of his lower lip before moving on to the sweet indention in the middle of his upper one. She felt him grow hard against her, reveled in the way every one of his muscles tightened as she teased the corners of his mouth.

He opened for her like he always did. She loved it, had always loved the way he responded to her. Just like she’d always loved him.

The realization swept through her and for a moment she wanted to run away, to hide. Being here with him, loving him again after all those months of pain and anger, made her feel naked, exposed in a way she couldn’t stand.

At the same time, though, it felt good not to hide from him, or herself, anymore. And just because she loved him didn’t mean she was expecting anything to come from this. She knew better. Simon would be with her until the next big story, and then he would be off again. Twelve years had taught her that much.

But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t enjoy what they had now, she told herself, sliding down his body to lick at his flat, muscular abs. He groaned, tangling his hands in her hair, and she grinned against his stomach. Lowered her mouth to skim his navel, then moved lower still, making sure not to touch where he wanted her most.

It was a game they’d played long ago, Amanda driving him as crazy as she could without actually taking him in her mouth, and it amazed her how quickly it came back to her, even after all this time. “Mandy, baby,” he told her in a voice gone husky with desire, “please. Not now. I need you. I need this.”

His plea shot straight to the heart of her, and she couldn’t resist—she took him in her mouth, reveling in the way his hands clutched at her hair, his body moving restlessly against her.

She pulled him inside her mouth, sucked and stroked, licked and laved, until he was pleading with every breath he took. Only then did she take him deep. He stiffened, groaned, then pushed her away.

“I CAN’T TAKE ANYMORE,” he told her hoarsely.

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” She reached for him again.

It wasn’t the point, not for him, not this time. It felt so good to have Amanda back in his arms that all he wanted was to hold her, love her. And when he came, he wanted to be deep inside of her. He was smart enough to know that after twelve years and a dozen countries, this was probably their last chance. Because of that, he wanted to brand her, mark her, hold her to him forever. He couldn’t stand the idea of losing her, not again.

Leaning forward, he took her mouth with his own, using his lips and tongue to arouse her—to soothe her—in a way he never had before. He wanted her, God did he want her, but even more overwhelming than the desire blasting through him was the tenderness he felt for her.

He nipped at her lower lip, reveling in the sexy moan that followed, and sucked it into his mouth.

She went wild, her body bucking against him. Wrenching her mouth from his, she skimmed her lips down his neck and over his shoulder, and he shuddered with the effort it took to restrain himself when he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her forever.

Reaching up, he cupped her face in one of his hands and just looked at her. From the little lines starting at the corner of her glorious eyes to the small scar that ran along the edge of her jaw to the random scattering of freckles that decorated her nose, he memorized her. Pulled her face, pulled
her,
deep inside him. Whenever reporting in some messed-up place got to him, whenever his guilt over Gabby threatened to overwhelm him, he would pull up this memory and remember that there was good in the world.

She’d always been a little shy, a little self-conscious, so he was afraid she’d pull away. Instead, she lay very still and let him look his fill. And, he realized with a little surprise, watched him as intently as he was watching her.

When his need to be inside her was nearly overwhelming, he moved over her so that every part of her body was covered by every part of his. He wanted to feel her everywhere.

Bending forward, he kissed the softness of her lips, the corners of her mouth. She was like the richest, smoothest velvet.

He wanted to be gentle, to give her the tenderness she both needed and deserved. But the moment her tongue tangled with his, he was lost. Lust rose, sharp and terrible and all-consuming. He ignored it, beat it down, kissed her some more. He was unwilling to give up her lips, unable to break the connection when everything inside of him clamored to be a part of her. To make her a part of him. He didn’t lift his mouth until she whimpered, gasped for air.

Using his free hand, he pushed her shirt up, then slowly pulled the garment over her head so that he could see her small, round breasts and beautiful rose nipples. She was amazing, glorious, and as he ran his tongue around her areola, he had only one thought in his mind. To make her his, once and for all.

Then he forgot everything but the ecstasy of being with her as he licked and kissed his way over every inch of her body. He explored the curve of her shoulder, the bend in her elbow, the back of her knee. Then tickled her ribs with his tongue before moving between her legs and tasting her. Claiming her.

He slid his tongue over her sex, once, twice, loving the spicy scent and taste of her. Slipped inside of her and stroked her as her hands clutched at his hair, his shoulders.
When he ran his tongue over the hard button of her clit, she sighed and moaned.

And then, with a quick flick of his tongue and a stroke of his fingers, he brought her to climax. Pulling back, desperate to see her, he worked his thumb over her, intensifying Amanda’s orgasm even as he watched her take her pleasure. Her back bowed, her hips moved languorously against his hand, and her skin flushed a pretty pink that called to him, urging him to take all of her.

He was hard to the point of pain, but he wasn’t ready to give up the view quite yet. Not when she was spread before him like a feast.

When she finally stilled, he spread her legs a little wider, then simply looked at her. Trailed a finger over the warm, slick folds, reveling in the feel of her desire for him.

“Simon!” It was a plea and they both knew it. “I want you.”

“You have me,” he murmured, sliding first one finger and then another into her, nearly losing it at the unbelievable perfection of her body. She was tight, hot, her muscles clenching his finger in a rhythm that resonated all the way to his erection.

Suddenly he knew he couldn’t take any more. Rolling onto his back, he reached into the nightstand by his bed and pulled out a condom. After rolling it quickly down his cock, he pulled Amanda over him and, with his hands on her hips, gently guided her onto him.

She cried out as he sank into her, arched her back and clutched at his hands until he twined his fingers with hers. Something about that connection, that joining of Amanda’s hands with his as she rode him, sent him right to the edge of his control.

Fighting to hang on, never wanting the feeling to end—never wanting the closeness between them to dissipate—he clung to sanity even as her breath grew quicker and her movements more frantic. He reveled in the feel of her around him, rejoiced in the slight pressure of her warm weight on his stomach as she slowly moved herself up and down him.

“Simon,” she moaned breathlessly and he knew it was a plea, knew she was close to shattering again. And he loved it.

She gasped, arched, and he whispered, “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

And she did, her back arching as the waves exploded through her. Her sex clenched him again and again, pulling him deeper. Taking him home.

At the last minute, she leaned down and brushed her lips over his as her crazy, smoky eyes looked deep into his own. That was all it took, those moments of connection so deep and profound that he couldn’t help feeling they would be tangled together forever.

With a moan, he let himself go and gave her everything he had inside of him. Everything he had to give.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SEVERAL MINUTES LATER, Amanda stirred against him. “I’ve got to get up. I have to be at work by nine.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, held her long, lean body against his for a little longer. “Call in sick,” he said. “We can stay in bed all day.”

“It’s only my second week. That doesn’t seem like the most optimum way to keep my job.”

“And that’s what you want?” he asked, lifting his head to look at her. “To continue working at that clinic?”

She smiled at him, and in her face he saw shades of the old Amanda. The woman he had fallen in love with so long ago, and whom he’d thought was lost to him—and the world—forever.

“I really do. It’s different than For the Children, but I think it was time for a change. Here, I can really help, you know? I can get to my patients before they’re bloated from hunger or wasting away from an illness twenty dollars of antibiotics could cure. Here, I don’t have to hold babies dying of AIDS, knowing there’s nothing I can do for them.