Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(99)

“That’s okay,” he forgave. “Let’s put him away for now.” And he made love to her again.

There was something about loving her that surpassed the sex. He could easily move her around, she was so light, and as he did so, he forgot that he had been dying to experience her. The only important thing became her pleasure, giving her everything he had. Working her up, getting her so hot she was begging. Long, slow, deep strokes that made her sigh and moan. And when she let him know it was time, deep and strong thrusts that made her gasp and hold him tightly to her. When her orgasm came, he felt proud, as if he’d taken good care of her. Maybe it was her response to him, the way she was swept away, her release leaving her breathless and gasping. If he had anything to say about it, this would go on forever and she would never be disappointed in his arms, in his life.

What he hadn’t been prepared for was how loving and sexual she was toward him, acting as if his pleasure was the most important thing as well. Unwilling to lie back and receive his lovemaking, he felt her lips on every inch of his body; she pushed him back on that small bed and tortured him so beautifully it almost brought tears to his eyes. She was a woman who could give as good as she got and it filled him up with emotion so strong, he was sure he’d never felt that way before.

And again they talked—this time about Joe and his small town up north, the houses he designed, the Marine Corps and the friends for life he’d made. He told her all about his Virgin River experiences, including the first time Jack called on the boys to help him clear the woods of dangerous men, to the time they’d come together to help Paul lay his best friend to final rest.

Then more love. Deeply satisfying, wondrous, phenomenal love. Joe honestly didn’t know if he’d suddenly become better at making love than he realized or if this woman, Nikki, was simply so astonishing, she made him look good. So responsive, so sweet. It didn’t matter to him—he was sublimely grateful for every orgasm she had, and more grateful that he was able to give her more than he took for himself.

“Nikki,” he whispered. “I think finding you was the luckiest day of my life.”

Then they talked about the others. Not the one who was making her cry, because Joe didn’t want any more crying. Since stepping into that funky little trailer, there hadn’t been any tears. Soft laughter, whispers, deep sighs, no tears. They talked about the other ones that just didn’t work out, starting with his year-long marriage at the age of twenty-five. “She left you?” Nikki asked, as though stunned.

“Yeah,” he said. “It killed me.”

Joe told her he’d always been kind of prepped for marriage and family, given his parents’ long marriage, the successful marriages of two brothers and one sister. And maybe he was gun-shy, that he hadn’t fallen in love again after that. He was surprised to find himself this old and still unattached; he thought he’d be settled and have a couple of kids by now. Once he saw some of his buddies find it late, he had renewed hope that maybe it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility for him.

Nikki, it turned out, had had an affair or two go south before the one who made her cry. She dated an airline captain for a while without realizing he was actually married. And then, to her supreme embarrassment, she continued with him for a while after knowing. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said, but she’d been really young then. “I regretted that, you can’t imagine how much. He’s been with quite a few single women since, though still married.”

Lots of intimate talk, lots of wonderful, sweet but powerful sex. The sun was starting to peek over the mountains when Joe nodded off with Nikki close in his arms. It was high up when he heard the sound of an engine and bolted upright, finding the bed beside him empty. He couldn’t believe she’d sneak away without saying goodbye. Then it occurred to him she might’ve escaped into the house, into her guest room, to keep her private life private from her hosts.

He dressed, shaved, ran a comb through his hair and hoped to meet her at the coffeepot in the general’s kitchen. He had to get with her one more time to plan their next meeting, to tell her he wanted to call her, talk to her, find out when she would allow him to come to the Bay Area. He was already missing the sound of her voice. The smell of her skin.

When he got into the house, he found Vanni in the kitchen, the baby in his bouncy seat on the table. “Morning,” he said, headed for the coffeepot. When he got back to the table and sat, he was met by her glare. “What?” he asked, perplexed.

“I cannot believe you did that,” she said.

“Did what?” he asked.

“My best friend. You know she’s been through a hard time.”

He looked around a little frantically. “Vanni, what? Where’s Nikki?”

“Gone,” she said flatly.

“Gone?” he asked, rising out of his chair. “Gone?”

“Yes,” she affirmed. “What were you thinking?”

He gave a huff of unhappy laughter. “I was thinking I’d just found the woman of my dreams,” he said. “She left?”

“In tears,” Vanni said, her mouth set in a grim line.

“Tears? Vanni, I did not make her cry!”

“Didn’t you have sex with her all night long in that little fifth wheel?” she asked, anger in her tone.