Chaos Theory (Nerds of Paradise #2)(52)
He’d moved his hand up to cup her breast, unable to resist the urge to squeeze her nipple between two fingers. The tremor that he felt pass through her body was all the encouragement he needed to press on. Not that he was going to make it very far.
He couldn’t wait. The best he could do was to reach between them to make sure she was ready. And, God, was she wet. He let out a guttural growl, then guided himself to her entrance and pushed home.
They both let out visceral sounds of pleasure as he sank himself in her as far as he could. The last discernible thought he had before tumbling into a punishing rhythm of thrusts was that she seemed to be enjoying herself as much as he was. He couldn’t stop himself once he got started, he could only go and go and go. Her body felt so perfect around him, her arms and legs holding him close as he pounded away, speeding toward the edge of no return. She cried out in time with each of his thrusts, and when his climax crashed over him—like a bottle of soda that had been shaken for an hour before being opened—he let out a rending sigh of victory and completeness that must have shaken the mountains to their core.
As fast as his need had slammed into him, satisfaction and utter exhaustion pulled him under. He should have apologized for behaving like a heathen, for taking without giving much in return. He should finish her off at the very least. But he’d suddenly lost the ability to move his limbs more than to slide out of her and collapse to one side, sagging into the wet sleeping bag. He’d poured out so much of himself that, against his better judgment, sleep crowded down on him. He was powerless to fight it.
“Good golly, Miss Molly,” Melody panted, curling herself around him as he sank further and further away. “If that’s how you do with the trailer, I can’t wait to see how good you are in the full-length, feature film.”
Will would have winced if he’d had the energy for it. He had a heck of a lot to make up to her now.
Chapter Fourteen
You could learn a lot about a man from the way he makes love, and what Melody learned about Will in those five glorious minutes was that someone had done some serious damage to his soul. Not that that was news, but feeling it, feeling the intensity of his frustration and release, was like a bullet to her heart.
It was no surprise to her at all that he collapsed into sleep as soon as he was done. He needed rest on a cosmic level. She forgave him for that just as she forgave him for being so quick on the trigger. They would have plenty of time to make love the slow way, because there was no way she was letting him go now. She couldn’t. It wouldn’t be responsible of her.
It also wouldn’t have been responsible to snuggle up and nap with him when there were fish to be caught. Carefully, she extracted herself from Will’s sleeping embrace and tip-toed back down to the lake. Her fishing line was right where she’d dropped it as they’d come out of the water, but rather than wading back in, she walked out to the end of the rocks where their clothes were still drying and tried fishing from there.
Fifteen minutes later, much to her surprise, she actually caught something. She assumed it was a trout, based on what she knew of the fish in Wyoming waters, but whatever it was, as soon as she figured out how to gut it and cook it, it would be supper.
“You’re doing that wrong.” Will’s quiet voice startled her several minutes later, when she was up to her elbows in fish guts.
She twisted to him, slippery knife in one hand, fish in the other. “I’m sure I am. Do you know how to do to it?”
He reached down and took the fish and the knife from her. “First of all, people generally wear clothes when they’re gutting a fish.”
Melody looked down at her still-naked state and laughed. “I figured I was bound to get guts all over everything, so why bother messing up clothes?” She stood, flicking a few dark spots of fish intestines off her arms, then walking back to the shore where she could wade ankle-deep in the water. She scooped a few handfuls to wash the last of the guts off, then headed back to the rock to get dressed.
Will was deliberately not looking at her the whole time. She pursed her lips and studied him, the tense lines of his shoulders and neck, and the jerking movement of his hands as he picked up where she’d left off with the fish. Yep, this was going to be a whole lot more difficult than it needed to be. But she wasn’t going to back down.
As soon as she was dressed, she made her way over to where Will had taken a seat on the rock and plunked down to sit facing him. She didn’t have to say anything, all she had to do was wait.
“What?” Will asked after a few minutes, eyes still glued to the fish, even though it was mostly cleaned out and filleted.
“Oh, I think you know,” she said, keeping as much of the teasing out of her voice as she could. To her, his hang-ups were silly, but they were his, and she had to respect that.
He glanced up at her with a frown. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?”
He nodded. “I was completely out of control. I let emotion cloud my judgment. The way I—well, it was disrespectful, to say the least.”
She couldn’t help but giggle a little. “Nope. Try again.”
He blinked and lifted his head fully to stare at her. “What do you mean, ‘no’? You didn’t deserve any of that. You deserve—” He cut himself off, glancing away.
Melody didn’t need him to finish to know where he’d been going. “Clementine, women dream their whole lives of a man swooping them up and taking them like that.”