own release. Martie raised her hips to meet each thrust, taking him as deep as she possibly could. She wanted him to feel what she had just felt, what she could feel building again—that wild rush of ecstasy that could only be achieved one way.
She knew he was about to come when his thrusts became frenzied, when his head dropp ed to the bed by her shoulder and he began to groan. She moaned in sync with him as her own release beg an to trickle out from her core and screamed his name when her world exploded for a second time that night. Chris’s voice became deep and guttural when at last he climaxed , releasing his seed into her with several hard , almost painful thrusts. As his body began to relax and he collapsed on top of her, Martie realized that he was still shaking. That his gasping , ragged breaths were no longer due to their lovemaking.
Chris was crying. She could feel his tears as they fell, wetting her shoulder.
Any other woman, one who didn’t know better, might have been offended. But Martie had seen how tired he was, how much he was hurting, and she knew that he needed this. His sexual release had triggered a much-needed emotional one, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to deny the man a moment to grieve his loss. Saying not a word, she merely wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, making sof t shush ing noises in his ear …
…a nd praying that sleep would claim him at last.
After several long minutes, during which her heart broke for Chris, Martie noticed that his sobs had stopped, that his breathing had slowed to a steady, if slightly stuttering, rhythm. Slowly and carefully so as not to wake him, she extricated herself from underneath his heavy body. As she stood and stretched she realized she felt a little sore, but she didn’t mind. She had gotten something she wanted and had given Chris something he needed, and she smiled lightly as she looked down at him.
Of course, as much as she wanted to stay, she knew she couldn’t. After closing the drapes over the windows she walked around the bed and placed a soft kiss on Chris’s temple, then walked into the bathroom to relie ve her bladder and wash up . As she cleaned the evidence of their activities from between her legs it occurred to Martie that there’d been no protection. Chris obviously hadn’t been expecting to spend the night with a woman when he had driven into Billings earlier that day, so he certainly hadn’t had any condoms handy. And she wasn’t on any form of birth control—having a period that was as regular as clockwork and nothing even remotely resembling a sex life for more than three years, she hadn’t se en any point in getting a prescription.
Martie shook her head as she rinsed the washcloth and wrung it out, then draped it over the edge of the sink and shut off the water , using the towel to dry herself . Yes, it only took having sex once to get pregnant, but a woman’s fertile period was so close to infinitely short that it was a wonder human females got pregnant at all. And she’d just finished a period a few days ago anyway. What were the chances?
She set her shoulders as she turned off the bathroom light and went t o retrieve her clothes, telling herself as she dressed quickly that she wasn’t going to worry about it as there was probably nothing to worry about. Once her shoes were on her feet, she picked up the half eaten plates of food and set them on the room service cart, then reached for her purse. With a glance back at Chris she realized she didn’t want to just disappear on him , that she wanted to leave him some kind of message. Spying a pad of paper on the lamp table where the phone lay, she rifled in her purse for a pen and wrote two words, then pulled the voice recorder she always carried out of her bag. After making sure the re was nothing else on the device’s memory, she sat down where she could feast her eyes on his naked, sleeping form, and switched the recorder
She knew he was about to come when his thrusts became frenzied, when his head dropp ed to the bed by her shoulder and he began to groan. She moaned in sync with him as her own release beg an to trickle out from her core and screamed his name when her world exploded for a second time that night. Chris’s voice became deep and guttural when at last he climaxed , releasing his seed into her with several hard , almost painful thrusts. As his body began to relax and he collapsed on top of her, Martie realized that he was still shaking. That his gasping , ragged breaths were no longer due to their lovemaking.
Chris was crying. She could feel his tears as they fell, wetting her shoulder.
Any other woman, one who didn’t know better, might have been offended. But Martie had seen how tired he was, how much he was hurting, and she knew that he needed this. His sexual release had triggered a much-needed emotional one, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to deny the man a moment to grieve his loss. Saying not a word, she merely wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, making sof t shush ing noises in his ear …
…a nd praying that sleep would claim him at last.
After several long minutes, during which her heart broke for Chris, Martie noticed that his sobs had stopped, that his breathing had slowed to a steady, if slightly stuttering, rhythm. Slowly and carefully so as not to wake him, she extricated herself from underneath his heavy body. As she stood and stretched she realized she felt a little sore, but she didn’t mind. She had gotten something she wanted and had given Chris something he needed, and she smiled lightly as she looked down at him.
Of course, as much as she wanted to stay, she knew she couldn’t. After closing the drapes over the windows she walked around the bed and placed a soft kiss on Chris’s temple, then walked into the bathroom to relie ve her bladder and wash up . As she cleaned the evidence of their activities from between her legs it occurred to Martie that there’d been no protection. Chris obviously hadn’t been expecting to spend the night with a woman when he had driven into Billings earlier that day, so he certainly hadn’t had any condoms handy. And she wasn’t on any form of birth control—having a period that was as regular as clockwork and nothing even remotely resembling a sex life for more than three years, she hadn’t se en any point in getting a prescription.
Martie shook her head as she rinsed the washcloth and wrung it out, then draped it over the edge of the sink and shut off the water , using the towel to dry herself . Yes, it only took having sex once to get pregnant, but a woman’s fertile period was so close to infinitely short that it was a wonder human females got pregnant at all. And she’d just finished a period a few days ago anyway. What were the chances?
She set her shoulders as she turned off the bathroom light and went t o retrieve her clothes, telling herself as she dressed quickly that she wasn’t going to worry about it as there was probably nothing to worry about. Once her shoes were on her feet, she picked up the half eaten plates of food and set them on the room service cart, then reached for her purse. With a glance back at Chris she realized she didn’t want to just disappear on him , that she wanted to leave him some kind of message. Spying a pad of paper on the lamp table where the phone lay, she rifled in her purse for a pen and wrote two words, then pulled the voice recorder she always carried out of her bag. After making sure the re was nothing else on the device’s memory, she sat down where she could feast her eyes on his naked, sleeping form, and switched the recorder
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