Sam looked nonplussed. “Mike? Why would I worry about Mike?”
She shrugged. “Jack has warned me of his fickle, roving ways with women. A player, he says.”
Sam chuckled. “Ah, Jack, who was as pure as the driven snow. Hah. I guess they know each other pretty well, Mike and your brother. Brie,” he said, running his big hand along
the hair at her temple, pushing her hair behind her ear, “I could be wrong. I’ve been wrong before, but I can’t think of any reason not to believe Mike, not to trust him.” He smiled into her eyes. “Your brother trusted him for many years—for that he has to be a good man. And obviously he cares about you.”
“He makes me feel like a person,” she said softly. “Like a woman. I haven’t felt like a woman since Brad…And then…” She stopped. “I have to go before they bring that monster back here for trial. Before I face him and can’t imagine a loving touch.”
“Do you think that’s what’s waiting for you in Virgin River?” Sam asked.
She nodded. “I think so. I hope so. If I’m wrong…”
“You’re packing,” Sam said. “You don’t feel like you could be wrong.” She shook her head. “You’re my baby, and you’re thirty-one,” he said in a whisper. “I don’t want you to be alone and afraid. I want you to have love in your life. It’s the natural order of things. And I think Mike gives that to you. You go,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I think you’ve had enough of the tough side of life. Time for a little bit of the tender side.” He pulled her close. “Don’t be gone too long. I’ll miss you.”
When Brie pulled into Virgin River, there were still trucks and cars surrounding the bar, though it was nearly the time of night Jack and Preacher would close. She pulled her Jeep right up to the front of the RV, parking beside Mike’s SUV. She could talk to Jack in the morning; she needed Mike’s arms around her. Jack would not misunderstand her presence here, though he might not be happy about her decision. She even left her suitcases in the back of the Jeep when she went to the RV’s door.
Mike opened the door and saw her standing there, looking
up at him. He gasped and jumped out of the RV. “Brie!” he said in a breath, grabbing her up in his arms, lifting her clear of the ground, burying his face in her neck.
Her whole world tilted and warmth spread through her from deep inside; just feeling his arms around her made so much right. Everything was suddenly as it should be. She held on to him, held him tight, feeling his lips, his breath on her neck. “Brie,” he whispered. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
She looked up into his black eyes. “It was sudden,” she said. “I came to be with you, if that’s all right.”
He ran a knuckle down her cheek to her chin, lifting it. “Anything you want is all right. You have only to tell me what it is.”
She’d been thinking about this through a five-hour drive, and had planned a hundred ways to approach it delicately. But in the end she said, “I need you to make love to me.”
Instead of looking shocked or excited by the prospect, he asked, “What’s wrong, honey? What happened?”
She shook her head, looking into his eyes with moist ones of her own. “Brad,” she said in a breath. “He came to ask me for another chance. And in the same conversation, told me they’d found the rapist and would be extraditing him to California for trial.”
He was quiet a moment, a half smile on his lips. Then he asked, “And you think I can make that go away?”
“No,” she said. “But I knew if I didn’t come here soon…Mike, I’m not whole, you have to know that. It’s been so long, and there’s been so much…. I just learned my husband was with two women for a long, long time before he chose her. And what Powell did to me… I can want you, but truthfully, I’m not sure I can ever feel again.”
“Shhh,” he said. He gently touched his lips to hers. “You already feel, or you wouldn’t be here,” he whispered.
She said,
“Quiero que me abraces. Para amarte durante la noche.” I want you to hold me. To love me through the night.
A slow smile grew on Mike’s face. “I haven’t had any secrets, have I?”
“Nada,”
she said.
Not one.
Mike laughed softly. “It serves me right. I didn’t know you spoke Spanish,” he said.
“Tu debes sentir estas manos amorosas así a ti.” You should feel the touch of loving hands.
“Deja a que sean sus manos.” Let them be your hands.
“Brie, are you sure you’re ready for this? Are you sure you want it to be me?”
She shook her head. “I’m only sure I want to try, to feel complete, to feel like a woman again before it’s too late, before that bastard is brought to trial and facing him turns me to stone again. But you?
Sí. Te quiero mucho.” Yes. I want you so much.
“Have you seen Jack?” he asked, his hand on the back of her neck under her hair, kneading gently.
She shook her head. “I didn’t even go into the bar. I don’t think he’ll have any trouble figuring out why I’m here when he leaves tonight and sees my car.”
“Do you want me to take you to him? Be there when you tell him you’re back?”
She shook her head again. “I’ll see him tomorrow.” She laughed nervously. “I’m not sure what I have to offer. I’m absolutely certain, and still… Maybe you should give me a beer,” she said.
“Tu no necesitas eso. Nada malo te pasara en mis brazos.” You won’t need that. Nothing frightening will ever happen while you’re in my arms.
He pulled her to him with the hand at the back of her neck.
“What if I’m really dead inside?” she whispered.
“You know better than that. You’ve never been dead inside, just frightened. You trusted yourself enough to come here. Leave the rest to me.” He touched her lips softly. “You have to know something while there’s still time for you to change your mind about this. I’m not a Good Samaritan, Brie. Not just a man willing to help a good friend get in touch with her feelings again. I’m in love with you,” he said, hovering over her lips. His breath was hot and sweet on her face, then slowly he descended on her, covering her mouth in a kiss that was powerful and hot, a kiss that seared and demanded. He moved over her parted lips hungrily and she clung to him with a whimper. “I’m so in love with you.”
When he released her lips, he pulled her up and into the RV and locked the door. She slipped out of her jacket and asked, “Will he come pounding at the door?”
Mike chuckled low in his throat. “Not a chance. I think even Jack knows when he’d be taking his life in his hands.” With his hands on her face, he pulled her lips onto his, devouring her. He kissed her again. And again. Holding her against him with arms that had ached to hold her like this for too long. He felt her small tongue in his mouth and it made him weak in the knees, it was so delicious, so sweet. All he hoped for was that he could make her comfortable with his touch, soothed enough so that she would welcome more of him. He wanted her to relearn, in his arms, the beauty of what could happen between a man and woman. The joy and ecstasy. After what had been done to her, she should know that in this, the love that he had for her, there would never be fear or pain, but only pleasure. Pleasure so wild and wonderful, it would fill her life for many days and nights to come. These thoughts combined with the sensation of her against
him made him erect at once and he sprang to life, folded almost painfully inside his jeans. With a hand on her bottom, he pulled her against him to show her what holding her did to him, and a deep and beautiful moan escaped her.
“Everything is up to you, Brie,” he said. “If you want to change your mind…”
“No,” she whispered against his lips.
“There’s no hurry, baby. Tell me when to slow down, when to stop….”
She shook her head. “I trust you. I need you.”
He drew her through the RV, past the full kitchen and a shower big enough for two into a small bedroom. There were only a couple of feet on each side of the queen-size bed and the walls were lined with closets, drawers and shelves, but it was all beautiful and modern, and plenty big enough.
His hands went to the bottom of her soft sweater and he drew it slowly over her head, leaving her in only her bra. He was on her mouth again, bruising her lips with the passion of his kiss. He pulled her hands from around his neck and, looking into her eyes, placed her fingers on the buttons of his shirt. She didn’t need to be told—she tugged his shirt out of his pants and worked the buttons quickly, then with her hands against his chest, spread the shirt over his shoulders to bare his chest. She touched the scar on his right shoulder, then caressed his chest with her small soft hands. “I love the way your skin feels,” she whispered. “You’re so smooth. So silky.” She kissed the hollow place at the base of his neck.
With one deft movement, the bra disappeared and he pulled her against him, her breasts on his chest. Flesh to flesh. Her arms encircled him and held him close. The feeling of her small hands running up and down his back stirred his blood just as the sensation of her nipples against his chest
bored through him with heat. One of his hands found and cupped a full breast, his thumb running over that erect nipple, stimulating it. Then he lowered his lips to gently draw on it, and she moaned softly, sweetly, whispering his name.
Mike was aching for her. He brought his mouth back to hers, and while kissing her, he backed her slowly and carefully to the bed until the backs of her legs were against it. Then his hands went to the snap of her jeans. “Okay?” he asked against her lips. “Do you need a little more time?”
She shook her head. “I’m ready,” she whispered.
He undid them carefully, slowly. Then, sliding his hands gently along her hips, moved them down. He sat her down on the bed and knelt to take off her shoes, pull off her jeans. When he stood and put his hands on the buckle of his belt, he hesitated, waiting for her to tell him if it was too much, too fast. But she brushed them away and replaced his hands with her own. She undid the buckle, the snap and zipper, and tugged the pants down. Freed, he leaped out at her and her eyes widened briefly. She glanced up at him, then, her eyes closing, she leaned toward him. But he stopped her by putting his hands on her shoulders. “Another time,
mi amor.
Tonight is about you.” He gently pushed her back onto the bed while he freed himself from his boots and trousers so he could get in beside her.
Both of them naked, he took her into his arms. She was so small and compact against him. He closed his eyes and in his mind he could see them against the white sheets, her ivory body against his tan, his dark hand on her hip and her small pale hand on his. He filled his hands with her satiny flesh, covering her body with long, smooth, calming strokes from her shoulders to her knees while he kissed her deeply. He caressed her gently for several minutes, giving her time
to get used to the sensation of their naked bodies together, entwined. She slipped a leg over his and her hands on him became bolder as she moved down his back and grabbed his butt, pulling him closer, harder against her. He slipped his hand between their bodies and moved it lower, inching his fingers down over her flat belly and farther, finding, with some surprise, that she parted her legs for him. He found the prominent little knot he was looking for and gave it a little attention, rubbing her gently, bringing a deep, lusty moan from her. Then he moved lower still, gently dipping a finger into her to find she was ready—this was a passionate woman who had been too long without a man to love her. But he wasn’t going to rush her; he was going to bring this to her sweetly, slowly. The last touch she’d felt had been brutal. He would erase that with gentleness and love so that she would never again fear it.
He rolled her gently onto her back and rose above her. “Let me look at you, Brie,” he whispered. He ran a slow hand down her body from her neck to her pubis and over, letting his fingers slip into her damp softness for just a second, causing her to writhe against him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything this beautiful,” he whispered. He put his hands on her hips and gently squeezed. She was soft and lush. He began a line of gentle kisses from her neck to her shoulder, her chest, her breast, her belly. Then he rose to kiss her neck again and with his lips against her ear, he whispered, “Trust yourself, Brie.” Then he resumed his kisses, less gentle as he lowered his mouth until he was at the center of her body. He parted her legs and put his mouth on her, delicately at first, and then with more pressure. She moved her hips against his mouth; he heard her groan and cry out, then felt her hands on his shoulders, gripping him fiercely, and he pulled on her care
fully with his lips, massaging with his tongue until he could feel her tremble, open up, clench, vibrate against him. It was glorious, the way she let it go, let him take her to that pinnacle and beyond. This pleased and surprised him; he had prepared himself to have to coax her into pleasure, into orgasm, but she was quick and hot, consuming him, her fingers digging into his shoulders. As she relaxed, he drew away, rising slowly, kissing her belly, her breast, her neck, her mouth. “Brie, you are wonderful. Delicious. You honor me.”
She had trouble catching a breath. She said, “Oh, God. Oh, my God.”
“I don’t think you’re going to have trouble feeling….”
“God,” she whispered, weak and spent in his arms.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” he whispered, gently pecking at her lips.
“I want more of you,” she said.
“Are you sure?” he asked her.
“I’m sure,” she whispered.
But he took his time again, allowing her to recover, slowly arousing her with slow hands, sweet lips. There was a fierce ache in him that wanted to dive into her and experience her quickly, bring his own release, but he ignored it. He concentrated on her responses, sure that she was rising to that ultimate pleasure again. And then, because he was honor bound, he whispered against her ear, “Brie…I have a condom.”
She froze. “No,” she said emphatically, shaking her head. “Please, no.”
“Very well, my love.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t…”
“It’s all right, Brie. We’ll do without….”
He gave her a little time to forget about that, spreading his
kisses over her once more, lingering at her breasts, her neck, her lips. Then finally he rose over her and with a knee placed carefully between her legs, he gently moved them apart again. He looked at her face; her eyes were closed and her head turned away from him. She held her bottom lip between her teeth, tensely. With a hand on her chin, he turned her back to face him and kissed her tenderly, lightly. Then harder, opening her lips with his. Her hands went to his hips, whether to hold him back or draw him in, he wasn’t sure. He lowered himself to her and the moment he touched her where he might enter her, she flinched. Stiffened. “Brie,” he commanded softly. “Look at my face. Look at me, baby. It’s me. Say my name,
mi amor.
”