Eight years he’d been waiting to give her an explanation. Eight years and the best he could come up with was word vomit.
“I didn’t go there with the intention of taking it from you,” he continued, his mouth no longer a running faucet. “And I know I only got the position because of Addison. But I’m sorry. I’m sorry because I know how much it meant to you.”
“You swear?”
“Yes, I swear. Corrie, I never meant to hurt you.”
She sighed, her eyes cast downward. “Guess I didn’t have it in the bag after all. Sounds like I wasn’t even the only one in the running.”
Ford didn’t respond, but that was his understanding, too.
“God, I hated you so much for that. I feel foolish now. But I was so mad, thinking that you’d used me for that information.”
“That wasn’t it at all,” he said, reaching across the bed and taking her hand. “Corrie . . . I liked you—a lot. I mean, you terrified me and frustrated the heck out of me sometimes—still do—but I’d been attracted to you from the moment you raised your hand in our first Archaeological Theory class. And not simply because I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Though I’m sure you managed to inspire lots of crushes that day.”
“Is that so?”
“Absolutely. Corrie, I know you think that when people look at you all they see is this,” he said, swirling his hand in the air and waving it over her entire body, “but I see this . . .” He pressed his index and middle finger to her temple right above her eyebrow. “And this,” he then said, touching his fingers to her lips.
“Hey, you try maintaining these brows and this lip in the jungle without access to hot wax,” she said with a smirk.
He smiled. “No, smart-ass. I was referring to your brilliant mind and that sassy mouth that’s not afraid of anyone or anything. Though, I’m not going to lie—I really do enjoy the rest of you, too.”
“I really enjoy most of you as well.”
“Oh, really? Only most of me?” he said, pulling her toward him so their bodies were flush on the bed.
She nodded. “Mm-hmm. I like this,” she said, pointing to his eyes. “And this,” touching her hand to his head, then running her fingers lightly through the tips of his hair. “And all this,” she said, waving her hand over his taut physique. “And most of the time, this,” she finished, placing the tips of her fingers on his lips.
“Most of the time?”
“I mean, I don’t like when they’re telling me no for various reasons, but I like it when they’re smiling. And kissing me. And saying I’m sorry.”
Without hesitation, he pressed his lips to hers. The feeling was mutual. He’d never enjoyed kissing anyone as much as he enjoyed kissing her. That feisty mouth of hers teased him in more ways than one. From her smart-alecky taunts to her sultry pouts and unrivaled intelligence, he yearned for that mouth every hour of the day. And for the talents she’d perfected with it.
His hand reached up the back of her shirt, caressing her soft skin, as she glided her hands along his chest under his shirt, her elegant fingers trailing each ridge of his muscles, causing his body to shudder with goose bumps. He anticipated her every move yet was always surprised.
“Ford?” she asked as his lips moved to her neck.
“Mm-hmm?”
His mouth traveled along her sweet skin, tasting her like she was the most delicious thing ever to hit his taste buds.
“I know we said not tonight, but . . .” Her panting breath trailed off.
“Mm-hmm?”
A soft purr tore from her throat. “But . . . Ford . . . I want you so badly. I’ve always wanted you.”
He removed his lips from her and hovered over her body, one arm on either side of her. Those lustful eyes were staring at him, begging him to take her. Begging him to end the torture that had consumed them for the last decade.
“I want you, too.”
“Where are they?” she asked.
He stepped off the bed and walked over to the table, pulling a condom out of the drawer. Then, standing there, staring at beautiful Corrie, he slowly took off his clothes. Tossing his shirt on the floor, kicking his boots to the side, he removed his pants and boxers and everything else until he stood stark naked in front of her.
Her eyes roamed over him, taking in every inch of his body, before she kneeled on the bed and removed her own clothes. Perfection. All the buildup. All the holding out . . . It had been worth it to be with her in this moment.
She inched toward the edge of the bed, then stepped off, moving closer to him and taking the condom from his hands. With delicate movements, she tore open the wrapper and unfurled the condom onto his aching cock, then backed up onto the bed, opening her legs wide for him. A sight that would be forever imprinted in his mind.
Like a sculptor studying his next subject, he stared at her, taking her in. Memorizing each curve of her body and every wisp of her hair. His own body consumed by the pleasure of gazing upon her.
“Waiting for something?” she purred, her fingertips trailing along her breasts down her impossibly soft skin and toward her opening.
“I’m trying to take my time to make sure I remember this.”
She smiled and propped her body up on one elbow as her other hand traced her sex, her fingers glistening with her own wetness. He had to pull on his cock to relieve the pressure.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let you forget.”
He moved toward her, took her hand, and sucked her wetness off her fingers. Then, without any more hesitation, he thrust into her body, both of them simultaneously releasing moans that had clearly agonized them for the last several years. Warm fuzzies swathed his entire being. Not just from the physical pleasure of being inside her or the fact that he hadn’t had sex in a few years. But from the desire seeping from her pores. She wanted him. It warranted repeating: she—Dr. Socorro Mejía—wanted him. And by the sound of her moans and the arch of her back, he satisfied her hunger. Being able to sate a woman like Corrie almost sent Ford over the edge.
“Why does this feel so good?” she asked, writhing underneath him.
He could have asked the same thing. Sure, it had been a while, but God . . . he’d never had sex like this. Sex where every thrust, every brush of friction, released a euphoric surge throughout his body. He smiled at her, then turned his blushing face away.
“What?” she asked through her own smiles.
“I feel like a silly teenager smiling at you. But my God, Corrie, you feel incredible.”
She flashed him a sultry smile before reaching up and pulling his face toward hers for a kiss. Their mouths locked, tongues rolling over each other, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. The heat from her body was no match for the fire soaring through his veins, however. Every ounce of him was full with her spirit. Her presence. Every ounce of him wanted nothing more than to prolong this moment.
They twisted and turned until Ford’s back lay flush with the mattress with Corrie perched atop his hips. With long, slow strokes, she rolled her hips against him, her hands steadying herself on his thighs. Like a goddess riding through the sky, her breasts swayed with her movements. He couldn’t help but watch her, admiring her from his position below, taking in every movement. Every wisp of her hair. Every whimper in her throat. Did she have this effect on all men or only Ford?