Finally, she got the message. He had picked a heck of a time to start following the rules. She knew what he wanted. If she accepted his invitation, it would happen. The choice was hers. She could turn him away. But then she would never know what it felt like to make love with this man. And more than her next breath she wanted to know. So, really, there was no choice at all.
Chapter Ten
Simon waited, afraid she would back away. He’d never experienced longing as intense as what he felt for Megan. With every single, solitary fiber of his being, he wanted her to kiss him. The one the other day had unlocked this yearning, fueling the longing. Was it something about Megan? Or the fact that no one had really touched him since Marcus died.
Suddenly he felt a powerful, inescapable urge to connect with another human being. With Megan. Only Megan.
It was as if the trauma to his soul had bled over into his body, sending it into shock, allowing him to feel nothing. Megan had helped him recover on the outside. But somehow she’d managed to reach into his soul, to begin the healing process there, patiently nursing away the shock. For the first time in two years he wanted to touch and be touched. Feelings bombarded him, like an amusement park fun house with dizzying, potent sensations.
Why her? Why now? He didn’t want to want her. He felt guilty that he did. But he could no more turn away from her than he could bring back his son. He almost wished Megan would stop him. Almost.
Somehow, confessing his sin had lifted a weight from someplace dark and deep inside him. He’d been so sure he would never feel anything but anguish for the rest of his life. It was as if he could finally breathe again. The earth hadn’t stopped spinning and black clouds were parting to let the sun shine through. A stupid analogy. It was dumb. It was crazy. It was the God’s honest truth.
He was like a drowning man who felt the grip of a rescuer’s hand dragging him back from the deep, the touch of a savior’s fingers pulling him back from the brink. All of a sudden his senses were pumped. He was on overload. Megan’s eyes were the bluest blue he’d ever seen. Her hair was like spun gold. The sweet sound of her sigh fired him with desire. The touch of her hands made him ache in the most primal, elemental way. He wanted her.
And his instincts might have been in suspended animation, but they’d come back to life along with everything else. She wanted him, too.
Something had been sizzling between them from the moment he’d opened his eyes and thought she looked like an angel. In that moment, the fuse had been lit, ticking off the seconds until the explosion.
Time was up.
She touched her lips to his and he nearly came apart with the force of it. He tunneled his fingers into her hair and cupped her face between his palms, making the contact of their mouths more firm. His chest felt tight, as if he couldn’t draw enough air into his lungs. His erection pressed painfully against the front of his pants. Megan moaned. Her hands were in his hair, on his shoulders, arms, neck, pulling at him as if she couldn’t get close enough.
“Come upstairs with me.” His words grated, rough and ragged, but he was on passion autopilot and beyond finesse.
Her movements stilled and he held his breath, afraid she would refuse him. He looked into her eyes. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing as harsh as his own. It seemed an eternity before she nodded.
“Yes,” she whispered, and ran her tongue over her top lip.
The movement, so innocent, so erotic, made his heart pound faster and his need more urgent. He leaned down and unfastened the leg brace, letting it fall away. She stood up and held out her hand and he took it, wrapping her small fingers in his own. At the bottom of the stairs, she put her arm around his waist and they slowly climbed. Together.
At the top, they turned right. His room was large, spartan, with a king-size bed in the center and nightstands on either side. Across from it was a utilitarian oak dresser. To the left, the dressing area and bathroom.
Simon took her hand and led her to the side of the bed. Light from the hall kept the room from total blackness. He yanked the bedcovers back, baring the sheets.
He looked down at Megan. The last thing he wanted was more regrets. “Are you sure about this?”
Her eyes were huge but she nodded. “I’m sure. But I think—”
He touched a finger to her lips to silence her. “Simon says don’t think. Just feel.”
He leaned down and captured her lips with his and felt the shiver that rippled through her. Then he reached up and released the clip holding her hair, tossing it onto the nightstand. Golden strands spilled around her face and he ran his fingers through the silk.
“Beautiful,” he breathed.
She settled her hands on his chest, then slowly slid them down to his waist until he held his breath in anticipation. But she pulled his shirt free and slipped her hands up underneath. Flattening her palms against his skin, she sighed with satisfaction.
“You feel—good.”
“A poet,” he teased.
The sensation of connection was something he couldn’t describe. It felt better than anything he could remember. How long had it been since he’d touched and been touched? He grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt and yanked it off. He wanted to feel her heartbeat against his bare skin, the warmth of her body.
“Take off your top.” He looked at her.
She stared back without moving, but a sparkle stole into her eyes. A playful, sweet, challenging, sexy-as-hell smile turned up the corners of her full mouth. When he caught on to her game, anticipation hummed through him, heating his blood.
“Simon says take off your top.”
She reached down and yanked it over her head. From the waist up she wore a bra that was hardly more than scraps of white lace. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a more beautiful sight in his life.
He stepped closer and their bodies barely brushed. With both hands, he reached behind her and unfastened the clasp, then hooked his fingers beneath the straps and dragged it off her shoulders to fall at their feet. He moved back just far enough to drink in the sight of her.
She was the most completely lovely thing he’d ever seen. All slender lines and feminine curves. He cupped her breasts in his hands and felt the perfect size and weight, flawless soft skin. A moan escaped her and her eyes drifted closed as her lips parted. She was sensuality incarnate and suddenly he wanted her naked. He wanted to see all of her.
“Simon says you have too many clothes on.”
She smiled. “Megan says you first.”
“That’s not the way the game is played,” he said, his mouth turning up.
“New rules.”
“Okay. I’m easy.” He released the fastener on his shorts. He stopped breathing when she took the zipper and dragged it down. Then he pushed off his briefs and shorts.
She kicked off her shoes and reached for her waistband, but he brushed her hands away. More than his next breath, he wanted to undress her the rest of the way. He slid his fingertips inside. With his eager assistance, all her remaining clothes began their descent. Along the way he brushed the soft, silken skin of her taut abdomen, the slender curve of her waist, the gentle roundness of her hips and thighs.
Finally she was standing before him naked as the day she was born and the sight of her took his breath away. He knew then that God must be a man. How else could he have created something so beautiful?
“You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Be still my heart.”
Although her response was flip, Megan was far from offended. His words meant so much more because they came straight from the gut. Unrehearsed, unpracticed. Honest and sincere, they were like food to her famished soul. When he sat down on the side of the bed and held out his arms to her, she went into them without hesitation.
He encircled her waist and twisted, lowering her to the mattress. She squealed as the cold cotton sheets touched her skin.
“What?” he asked.
“A warning would have been nice. I think you keep thes
e suckers in the freezer.” She shivered.
“I’ll warm you up.” His whiskey-smooth tone made a promise his hands instantly started to keep. “Close your eyes.”
Surprised, she stared at him.
“Simon says close your eyes.” He smiled, a seductive satisfied expression.
Megan shivered again, but this time it wasn’t the chill; it was expectation. This was the culmination of spending so many hours a day with this man and trying to resist him. The attraction arcing between them had become too strong to fight. Even if she wanted to, it felt too wonderful. His touch was like heaven to her lonely spirit. What could it hurt? For once, she refused to think about that question.
She did as he requested and closed her eyes, then felt the featherlight touch of his mouth on her eyelids, nose, cheeks and mouth. He traced the seam of her lips and she instantly opened to him. Taking what she offered, he invaded, stroking her until heat gathered inside her and spilled over, heating her from head to toe.
At the same time, his palm, resting on her belly, slid upward toward her breast. Anticipation grew. Awareness climbed. Then she felt the tip of his finger trace the peak just before he caught her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. It was like being zapped with a bolt of lightning and her eyes popped open.
“Simon says keep your eyes closed.”
“But—”
“Simon says don’t argue.”
She closed her eyes and her mouth. Why argue when what he was doing felt better than anything she could remember in a very long time? Without sight, her other senses were heightened. He continued to trace her breast, around the peak, up her chest, along her neck, toying with her earlobe. Her breathing grew ragged and shallow. She wanted to feel his touch everywhere.
As if he could read her mind, he trailed down the center of her chest, skimmed her navel, then went lower, settling between her thighs. He parted her and found her most sensitive, feminine place. As he teased and rubbed, the sensation was too good for words and a moan slipped from her throat.
“I think we have a winner,” he said, his voice filled with satisfaction.
“Yes,” she breathed.
He smoothed and stroked, brushed and touched. Slow then fast and a pace in between. A knot coiled inside her. Pressure built, growing bigger, tighter, tenser. When she thought she couldn’t stand any more, she finally went rigid, then shattered into a thousand points of light, pressing herself into his hand. It seemed like a lifetime before she was whole again.
Sighing, she opened her eyes and smiled weakly as she met Simon’s satisfied gaze. “Wow.”
“Good?”
“Good is such an inadequate word. But so right on,” she said dreamily, her eyes drifting closed.
She felt something poking her in the thigh and looked at him. “Your turn.”
“Hold that thought.”
He reached into the nightstand beside him and fumbled for something. When he pulled it out, the foil package caught the light from the hall. Good Lord. Protection. She’d forgotten all about it.
“At least one of us is prepared,” she said gratefully.
“Left over from a lifetime ago,” he whispered.
He ripped open the package and, with shaking hands, settled the condom over himself then rolled it down. He eased between her legs, settling at the juncture of her thighs. In the dim light she could see the harsh intensity in his eyes, the tense set of his features.
“I haven’t done this in a pretty long time. I don’t know—”
This time she put her fingers over his mouth. “Simon said don’t think, just feel. Shut up and kiss me.”
One corner of his mouth lifted before he leaned down and did just that. His stubble scraped her chin, but she couldn’t find the will to care. The sensation of their bodies touching, of being close, simply felt too good. Then he braced himself on his elbows. With one thrust, he was inside her and too good turned into too wonderful.
He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, an expression of concentrated wonder on his face. With excruciating slowness, he withdrew to just the point of protest, then entered her again. Over and over he repeated the motion, advance and retreat until he urged her higher and higher.
Suddenly he stopped. His whole body tensed as he threw back his head. With a guttural groan, he thrust one last time, then his body went rigid with his release. Megan was right behind him, free-falling as the pleasure overtook her. When their afterquakes ceased, he eased himself from between her thighs and lay on his back, gathering her close while their breathing returned to normal.
He dropped a quick kiss on her lips, then sat up, leaving her for several moments as he disappeared into the bathroom. It was long enough for sanity to return and the cold along with it. The floaty feeling vanished, and she hit the ground with a very big thud. She was falling all right, in more ways than one.
Megan gathered up her clothes and slipped into them before going downstairs into the powder room. She turned on the light and locked the door behind her. In the mirror over the sink, she saw the shell-shocked expression on her face and the realization hit her with the force of a two-by-four.
She’d just slept with her patient.
It didn’t matter that the activity hadn’t aggravated the healing injuries from his accident. Or that he’d been a more than willing participant, encouraging her with his magic hands and gifted lips. She’d been completely and utterly swept away. Consequences hadn’t once entered her mind. All she could think about was wanting Simon and how much he’d wanted her back. But she was a health-care professional—his health-care professional. How could she have let this happen?
There was only one thing she could do.
She splashed water over her face, then dried it on the hand towel. Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door and braced herself to face the music.
Simon was dressed and waiting for her, standing without either crutch by the fireplace. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I can’t help noticing you’re wearing clothes. Does that mean you’re not staying?”
She walked to the sofa table beside him and picked up her purse and medical bag. “I have to go.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Bayleigh’s with her grandparents having a sleepover. I thought we could, too. It would save you the trip back in the morning.”
“Come on, Simon. Who are you trying to kid?” She inched closer to the front door. “You don’t need me any longer. I think you can take care of yourself just fine.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“This is me,” she said, touching a finger to her chest. Her heart was pounding. “I was there a little while ago. Physically you were—”
“What?”
Pretty amazing, she wanted to say. Awfully wonderful. Sexy, sweet and so very wrong for her. “Let’s just say that as a nurse there’s nothing more you need from me. I’m not coming back.”
“Why?”
“You’re brighter than the average bear. I think you can figure it out.”
“Because we made love?”
“Bingo.”
“What if I said it won’t happen again?”
“Will it?”
“If there’s a God in heaven,” he said.
“That’s why. It’s completely unprofessional. I’m a day late and a dollar short getting my career off the ground. Something like this could tank it before I ever get started. I love what I do, Simon. I’ve worked too long and too hard to get where I am. It can’t happen again. And I can’t trust you.”
“I’d like to point out that I didn’t kiss you.”
“Did so,” she said, feeling like an idiot.
But the memory of his mouth on hers, and the things he’d made her feel, robbed her of coherent thought. Not to mention the betraying heat spreading through her again. It wasn’t him she was afraid of. It was herself. Where he was concerned, she was spineless. She let out a long breath.
“Okay. Strictly speaking I kissed yo
u. But it’s a technicality. You broke the essence of the rule by invading my personal space. Touching me. Being sweet—”
“So take me out back and beat the crap out of me. But don’t go.” He ground out the last two words from between clenched teeth.
Megan studied him and saw—desolation. His mouth pulled into a straight line and the angles and planes of his face seemed jagged, harsh, chiseled from stone. Deep lines were carved along either side of his nose and mouth. But his eyes snapped blue fire. That was something, at least. When she’d seen him that first night in the ER, there’d been no life in his gaze.
When she’d agreed to be his home nurse, she’d rationalized that it was an opportunity to sort out and put to bed the feelings he’d evoked. She never planned to literally go to bed with him. If anything, her feelings about him were even more confusing. But there was no point in sorting them out. She had a child to think about, to support.
She met his gaze. “If there’s even the suggestion of impropriety between nurse and patient, I could lose my job. What happened between us was more than a suggestion.”
He made a dismissive noise. “What’s really going on, Megan? What can I say to talk you out of this?”
“Nothing. I have to go. Take care of yourself, Simon. I’ve enjoyed knowing you. Thanks for—”
“For what?” Anger pulled his mouth into a straight line and settled in his eyes as he took a step toward her. “You’re the one who got me back on my feet. You have nothing to thank me for.”
To quote him, he couldn’t be more wrong. He’d done everything for her daughter, and she owed him. He’d finally taken the first steps back and was on his way. But this still wasn’t the time to say her thanks.
He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re hiding behind the job. This—something—is between you and me. We both know I’m no victim. I did start it. Because I wanted you. I want you now, and I’d bet everything I have or ever hope to have that you want me, too. So tell me, Megan. What are you running from?”
She didn’t even want to go there. All she’d wanted was to let him know how grateful she was. She hadn’t actually said the words but didn’t actions speak louder?
Midnight, Moonlight & Miracles Page 13