22. Chapter 22
Chapter twenty-two
Mitch unlocked the motel room door and they both went inside. He didn’t turn on the lights until he’d locked the door and shut the drapes. “Okay, we’re good,” he said. “I’m starving.”
Isla held out the bag of food—two subs from a gas stop deli. “It’s a good sign you’re hungry—if you weren’t, I’d really have to worry.”
Mitch looked at his shoulder, then winced. “Just a flesh wound.”
Isla shook her head. “Let’s eat and then we can take showers. I’ll look at your shoulder and rewrap it. I want to make sure everything is okay.”
They ate in silence. Isla threw her garbage in the trash. She went toward the bathroom and started the shower. “I’ll be out in ten and then it’s your turn.”
“I’ll get the bags,” he said as he cautiously opened the door.
She heard the car door open and close outside. Her heart caught in her chest. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get over seeing Mitch hit by that bullet today. She only exhaled when he was safely in the room with her.
“Here you go,” he said as he handed her the bag. He sat on the bed and turned on the television.
She walked into the bathroom and stripped off her clothes. Her jeans were covered in Mitch’s blood. She pulled them off and rolled them up with the bloody sweatshirt and put them back in the bag. Stepping under the shower spray, she stood and let the rhythmic pulse of the water soothe her.
It’ll be all right. At least we’re here, right now. Tonight.
Mitch looked into the smudged motel bathroom mirror.
A tired, beat-up man stared back at him.
When this was all over, he planned on taking some time off.
He needed to go home and think about his future.
A future he hoped had Isla in it. He turned on the water and stepped under the spray.
His arm throbbed, but the heat of the water felt so good that he stood under it for a while before he soaped up and rinsed off.
He put on a pair of sweatpants and opened the door. “Isla, I’m ready.”
She walked in with a box of supplies. “Sit on the toilet seat.” She started to unwrap the bandages and pull the gauze away.
Gently, she poured peroxide on the wound and slathered it with antibiotic ointment.
Then she rewrapped it, firmly. She leaned down and kissed his shoulder. “Do you want me to help you shave?”
“Help me shave, huh? Sounds sexy.” He handed her the shaving cream and the razor.
Isla filled the sink with hot water and put a towel around his shoulders.
She lathered his face, running her fingers over every contour.
She smoothed the cream down his throat and straddled his lap as she gently ran the razor over his stubble.
“I could get used to this kind of service,” he chuckled.
Isla was mesmerized by Mitch’s face as she shaved it. This was the man who had risked his own life over and over again to save her own. If she had lost him today, her life would have been over. Without him in it, it wouldn’t be worth living.
Was it wrong to feel so aroused? Moisture pooled between her thighs, and she could feel Mitch’s arousal pressing into her core.
She couldn’t help herself. She needed to feel passion, not fear.
She took his face between her hands. He put his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer.
Leaning down, she kissed his lips and parted them with her tongue.
Their tongues tangled as they took the kiss deeper. She pulled back to take a breath.
Isla met his gaze. “Don’t ever scare me like you did today. If I had lost you, I would have just stood there and let them kill me. I don’t know if I could live without you in my life, Mitch. I love you.”
“I think I’ve loved you since the minute I shook your hand while you sat in the car on that first day.
I looked into your eyes and all I knew was that I wanted to protect you from the ugliness in this world.
” He searched her face as if to memorize every inch of it, from the tips of her ears to the point of her chin.
He captured her lips with his. He combed his fingers through her hair.
“I want you, but not here. I’m sure the bed is a lot more comfortable than the seat we’re sitting on right now,” he chuffed.
“Well, it’s a motel bedroom—maybe not that much better,” Isla laughed into his neck.
She could feel the vein that ran along his neck pulsing.
Her lips found it as she ran her tongue along its length.
He stood and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her to the bed and threw the covers back with his good arm.
Laying her on the bed, he followed her and laid alongside her.
“With my arm, I don’t think I can hold myself off of you if you’re beneath me. I don’t want to crush you.”
“We can make it work, as long as you’re inside me. I need you.”
Mitch flipped onto his back and pulled her on top of him.
Isla leaned back and pulled her nightshirt over her head, the heat and moisture between her legs dampening his waist. His eyes darkened with desire as he looked at her beautiful body, her breasts firm and high on her chest, the buds of her breasts pebbled and tight.
He leaned up and took one bud into his mouth while his fingers sought out the other.
He suckled and teased, moving from one to the other as Isla writhed above him.
Her body tensed as she threw her head back and she whimpered.
As her body tightened, she reached behind her and pulled his sweatpants down his hips.
His erection sprang forth, hard and long.
She rose onto her knees and centered herself above him, then lowered herself onto him.
Mitch filled her to the hilt as he raised his hips to meet her.
She rode him in a rhythm that threatened to push him over the edge before he could meet her needs.
She rode him seductively. Her head thrown back, her hair skimming her back, her breasts bouncing.
He felt her core tighten around him as she whimpered.
He pumped hard and fast into her, finding his own release right away.
They rode out the waves as their bodies pulsed and then slowly ebbed.
She fell onto his chest, her head burrowing into the side of his neck.
They lay like that until their breath and heartbeats slowed and the daze of desire retreated to a more comfortable place.
“Wow! That was fun. When can we do it again?” she giggled into his neck.
Isla eventually slid away from Mitch, wishing she didn’t have to get up. She felt at home there in his arms. “I’ll be right back. I need to clean up.”
She used the toilet, and then ran a washcloth under the warm water and wiped the stickiness from her thighs. Suddenly, she remembered something.
She walked into the room. “Mitch, we didn’t use a condom. I haven’t had my birth control refilled since I ran out. I don’t think I’m due to ovulate for a few more days though. I think it’ll be okay?”
“If you’re sure,” he said. Then he opened his good arm. “Come here. I need you in my arms.”
She walked over and slid under the covers, then lay alongside him, skin to skin.
His heat comforted her. She laid her cheek on his chest, feeling the rhythmic beating of his heart and the steady rise and fall of his chest. If things had been different this morning, that heart wouldn’t be beating and his chest wouldn’t be rising with each breath.
She couldn’t go there. They fell asleep entwined together, content and happy to be loved and to be alive.
Mitch disentangled his limbs from Isla and quietly slipped from the bed.
Peering out the window from behind the curtains, he saw the hint of dawn peeking from behind the mountains.
He turned around and went over to her. He pushed the hair from Isla’s face and caressed her cheek.
“Isla, sweetheart, wake up. We need to be out of here in the next fifteen minutes. The sun is coming up and I want to be on the road before it does.”
“Umm,” she stretched her arms above her head, her body illuminated by the light coming from the bathroom.
His body reacted to her beauty. Stop, we need to be on the road.
No fooling around, he chastised himself.
She was so beautiful, and her body fit his like she was made just for him.
He knew it would be a while before they could be intimate again, but that didn’t stop him from craving her.
He would just have to be happy with the knowledge that they loved each other.
“I like when you call me by my name,” Isla said, smiling.
“I try so hard not to,” said Mitch. “I try not to even think your name. It’s not professional—” He brushed his hand on her cheek. “But neither is anything else we’ve done in the past twelve hours.”
She pulled him down to her for a kiss.
“Do you think you can be ready to go in fifteen?” he said. “I need to go to the office and turn in the key and I’ll be right back.”
“Ten minutes,” she said. “I’ll be ready.”
Mitch smiled down at her. “Put the extra lock on and don’t answer the door unless I tell you.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.
Mitch hurried to turn in the key and stopped for some of the not-so-bad-looking coffee at the breakfast bar.
His good arm held the coffees in a carrier.
He knocked on their door with his bad arm, feeling the stiffness of the obliterated muscle there.
He’d been shot before—he knew the deal. He’d need physical therapy.
“Molly, open the door. It’s me.”
“You have to answer a question first,” she said from the other side of the door. “So I know it’s you.” She was trying to be serious, but he heard the play in her tone.
“What’s that?”
“Do I have a birthmark and if I do where is it?” she asked.
“Yes, you have a birthmark. It’s on the inside of your left thigh.”
He heard the lock click as she opened the door. “Very observant. You may enter.” She smiled.
“Found it when we were on the way back from Philly. Very sexy,” he chuffed.