Virgin River (Virgin River #1)(47)

“But I hate to think of you rotting away in some dinky town, watching the soaps and growing bad roots.”

“I could visit Dot in that garage where she does hair…”

“Ugh. Aren’t you lonely, honey?”

“Not so much. At the end of the day, if nothing’s going on, we go to the bar—Doc has his one whiskey of the day and I get a cold beer. There are always people around. We eat dinner—someone usually says, come over and sit with us. There’s great gossip, that’s the cool part about small towns where everyone knows everyone’s business. Except, apparently, who gave birth to little Chloe. I just count it lucky that no woman who suffered post-partum hemorrhage or infection turned up. And also—no word from social services.”

“I miss you so much. This is about the longest we’ve been apart in years…Why do you sound happy?”

“Do I? Maybe because everyone around me is happy. They let me know they’re glad I’m here, even if my presence isn’t medically saving this town.” She took a breath. “I still feel out of place a lot, but I think I’m more content than I’ve been in eleven months and three days. I might finally be detoxing from the adrenaline.”

“Promise me you’re not going to stay in that godforsaken place, alone, watching soaps and drinking beer.”

Mel’s voice became soft. “It’s not godforsaken, Joey. It’s…” She struggled for a word. “It’s breathtaking. Oh, the architecture leaves something to be desired—most of the houses and buildings are small and old and could use paint. But the countryside is wondrous. And I’m not lonely—I have a town. I’ve never had a town before.”

Ricky and Liz were going to the spring dance at the high school. Except they didn’t. It gave Rick a twinge of guilt because he knew in his heart that Connie and Ron trusted him. And probably they shouldn’t.

The thing about living in a small town in the midst of dozens of small towns separated by forests was there were a million secluded places to park and make out. He always had a condom in his pocket, one that he was determined not to have to use, but he had it just the same. He hadn’t even needed Jack to supply him—he was on top of that. He felt protective toward Liz; he didn’t want to get her into trouble. What they were doing was working, even if it was getting them pretty worked up. And they were doing plenty. It got off to a roaring start. Lots of deep kissing, heavy petting, incredible rubbing. They’d done a lot of bumping and grinding on the outside of clothes, but now they were getting right down to the skin, deeper than skin, but not going all the way. They were catching on real fast. It hadn’t taken them long to figure out how to have orgasms without penetration, for which Rick was sublimely grateful. Even so, he wanted more. Wanted it real bad, and so did she. He was about ready to have the big talk with her, but he knew he had to save it for the clear light of day, not the dark of night while they were pawing each other in the cab of his little truck. He loved making her feel good; she really wanted to please him. He hadn’t imagined it could be this wonderful—holding someone, loving them, touching them, giving these feelings, receiving them. Nothing had prepared him for how you could be swept away by it all; it was as though the sheer pleasure had a life of its own. He had moved over to the passenger seat and held her on his lap, kissing her, hard and hot while she squirmed around deliciously.

His hand wandered under her short skirt and met with…Nothing.

“Oh my Jesus,” he whispered.

“Surprise,” she said, grinding on his lap. Then her hand went there, feeling him through his clothes, making him nearly cry out.

She scooted forward on his lap a little. He slid back in the seat slightly, knowing that she would now take him in her small hand. He lived for that. As she opened his pants to free him, he massaged her with his fingers of one hand, fondling her breast with the other, drowning in her mouth, holding her tight against him. She was moving roughly against his hand, wriggling, reaching desperately for her special moment, when suddenly she shifted her weight slightly. She was straining toward him, he was straining toward her, her hands went to his shoulders, his hands grabbed her fanny, her knee went across his lap and she was over him. She moved down, he moved up and they were suddenly disastrously, wondrously, exquisitely merged. She came right down on him. He lifted right up into her; she was all around him. It was a whole new world, a lot better than a hand. He couldn’t breathe.

“Holy God, Liz,” he whispered. “Oh my Jesus.”

She was oblivious, pressing furiously into his lap, on a mission.

“Liz. Lizzie. No. Lizzie. Holy God. Holy Jesus.”

He was half trying, half hoping to fail to lift her off him, to get out of her, when it happened for her and the sensation of her body squeezing around him, clenching in hot spasms as she moaned her ecstacy, caused him to lose his mind. He thought he might have been momentarily unconscious. He lost all will. And that wasn’t all he lost. He blew it—erupted inside of her with the force of a volcano. Right after he thought Ahhhh, he thought Oh, Fuck. Way to go, genius.

She collapsed into his arms and he held her, stroking her back as she calmed. As he calmed. As they caught their collective breath. Finally he said, “That could have been a huge mistake.”

“Oh-oh,” she said. “Oh-oh. Now what?”

“Well, I sure as hell can’t reel it back in,” he told her. “If I’d known that was going to happen…Liz, I have a condom, for Christ’s sake.”