Listed: Volume IV (10 page)

“Oh
God!” she gasped, “Oh Paul!” She huffed out a series of eager, breathless
sounds that grew louder and louder as her body started to tighten. He could
feel her shaking, feel her digging her fingernails into the back of his neck.

Then
he felt her let go, coming in helpless spasms and shudders. He knew she’d come
very hard—he could feel her clamping down around his fingers, and the
contractions lasted a really long time. She was almost choking on the pleasure.

Wanting
to make sure she got all the sensations he could give her, when the
contractions finally lessened, he moved his thumb to her clit and massaged it
thoroughly.

Emily
arched up jerkily with a loud cry as another orgasm ripped through her. Her hips
bucked up with the new sensations and kept riding out the waves on his fingers.

When
she was through, the throbbing in Paul’s erection had become dangerously
intense. He reared up, panting loudly and staring down at her again. Her body
had relaxed, and her expression had shifted into a drowsy smile. “Wow,” she gasped.
“That was…wow.”

With
a muffled groan, he leaned down to kiss her hungrily again, overwhelmed with
feeling, with primitive pride, with desire, with need. With need. With
need
.

“Oh
baby,” he groaned, when he finally pulled out of the kiss. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”
She was smiling as she fumbled beneath him until she’d managed to get her hands
hooked around the waistband of his pajama pants.

Paul
raised himself up some more so they could remove his pants. Then they were both
naked under the sleeping bag, with the crisp night air and the light of the
stars pulsing all around them.

He
lined himself up at her entrance, briefly concerned that he’d have to hurt her
again. But she was eager and impatient, and she didn’t let him dawdle. Soon, he
was sinking inside her, and she was so, so tight, so wet and hot as her body
gripped him hard.

She
choked out a sound and arched up, but he thought it was from discomfort rather
than pleasure. He held himself perfectly still and tried to focus enough to see
her expression.

She’d
closed her eyes and turned her head.

“All
right?”

“Yeah.
Just give me a second. Who would have thought you’d be so ridiculously big?”

He
bit back a laugh, since laughter would be a mistake at this stage. His arms shook
as he braced himself above her on the air mattress, and he had to force himself
not to thrust.

“Okay,”
she breathed, after not very long. Her body was beginning to soften now, relax.
“I’m good.”

When
she smiled up at him, he had to kiss her. It was lovely—a little clumsy but
passionate on both sides—but then her inner muscles clenched around him, and it
was so incredibly good that he reared up with a hoarse exclamation.

To
his surprise, she giggled. “Was that good or bad?”

“Good,”
he said, managing to get it together enough to press another kiss against her
lips. “But if you make it that good for me too often, it won’t be very good for
you.”

She
clenched around him again, and he bit his lip over a groan. “Emily,” he warned.

She
stroked his neck gently, distracting him with the pleasure the light touch
aroused. And then she tightened around him once more.

Unable
to hold himself back, he began to rock his hips urgently, releasing a long, throaty
sound as the friction intensified both his pleasure and his primal need. She
started to move her hips with his. And occasionally he’d feel another hard intimate
clench.

The
pressure in his balls tightened so quickly there was nothing he could do to
hold it back. He tucked his head to the side and tried to make himself stop,
but he couldn’t. He couldn’t. He thrust into her in fast, clumsy pumps, trying
not to be too forceful, trying not to hurt her.

It
didn’t seem to be hurting her. If her eager little gasps were any evidence, she
was enjoying it as much as he was. Her hands had slipped under his arms, around
his ribcage again. And her fingers were starting to claw at him as her own
motion got more urgent and enthusiastic.

His
vision blurred over as his body was washed with waves of hot and cold. He knew
he was about to come, but he clenched his jaw and tried desperately not to come
too soon, not to come before she did.

“Oh
Paul,” she gasped, tossing her head back and forth beneath him. Her features
were twisted with pleasure and effort. “It’s so good. Gonna come!”

“Yes,”
he hissed, his hips completely out of his control now. He was rocking into her
fast and hard, overwhelmed by how it felt to be moving inside her like this.
“Come, baby. Come."

She
dug her fingernails into his back and clawed lines there. The pain only intensified
his pleasure. “Yeah. Oh God!” Her eager huffing suddenly transformed into a
loud, hoarse cry as her body erupted beneath him, thrashing clumsily as she
tried to ride out her orgasm.

“Emily,”
Paul bit out. “Oh, fuck.” His pelvis jerked helplessly as the agonizing
pressure clenched like a fist, and then it all unleashed, spasming out in hot,
deep waves of pleasure.

He
came hard, the release ripping through him almost brutally. The pleasure continued
as he came inside her, emptying himself, filling her.

He
collapsed on top of her the way he had the first time. She gathered him in her
arms, panting as helplessly as he was.

After
a minute, her hands started to stroke his back. He still couldn’t seem to lift
his head.

“Are
you all right?” she asked gently, after another long moment.

“Yeah,”
he managed to say.

His
body had relaxed, his arousal had softened. He felt deliciously sated.

“Are
you sure?” she asked.

He
kissed her neck a little clumsily but couldn’t seem to focus enough yet to have
a real conversation. “Yeah. Give me a minute.” She didn’t understand—she
couldn’t understand—how much sex with her took out of him.

It
leveled him. Physically and emotionally.

After
a minute, he managed to pull out of her. He rolled over onto his back,
exhausted and replete. He turned his head to smile at her.

She
smiled back and scooted over so she was cuddled up at his side. Instead of
wrapping an arm around his middle like she normally did, she lay on her back so
she could look at the sky too.

“We’re
pretty good together,” she said. “At least, I think so.”

“No
doubt about it.” Then, because he felt like she needed to know it, even if it
made him more vulnerable than he was comfortable with, he added, “Best sex I’ve
ever had.”

When
she brightened with pleasure and surprise, he was glad he’d told her the truth.

But
then her mouth quirked. “Me too.”

He
chuckled and squeezed her with one arm.

“Have
you ever seen stars like this?” she asked, gazing up at the sky.

“Never,”
he admitted.

“Thanks
for taking me here.” She turned her head for just long enough to press a kiss
on his shoulder.

Paul
released a long breath, trying to force from his mind the bleak reality he knew
was waiting for him when he returned to Philadelphia. He felt too good—Emily felt
too good beside him—for him to process all of that now.

All
he said was, “Thanks for taking
me
.”

***

They got home from PEI
at around ten o’clock on Sunday evening.

Paul
was usually pleased to return to the apartment—since it was as close to home
now as anywhere else—but tonight he felt a deep heaviness sink onto him as soon
as they walked in the door.

The
art and furnishings were familiar and in their usual pristine order, since Ruth
had come by earlier in the day to clean, stock the refrigerator, and put fresh
flowers in the vases. Camping had been surprisingly enjoyable and intimate,
despite the few inevitable annoyances, but it hadn’t felt real. Returning to Philadelphia
was like returning to the real world.

And
Paul had trouble thinking of anything but the fact that time was running out
for Emily. She had a virus no one knew how to fight, a virus that was killing
her more and more every day.

There
was nothing he could do to stop it.

As
soon as they’d gotten home, he’d gone to the study and called the private
investigation firm. He’d been told—not for the first time—that they would have
some progress to report by Wednesday, as promised. Then he’d called Dr.
Franklin, who had told Paul what he always told him. He was looking, but so far
there was nothing to try except the very unlikely long-shots.

Those
calls were the only direct action Paul could take about finding a cure for
Emily. So he sat behind his desk for almost a half-hour, staring blindly at his
computer screen and trying to suppress his stewing angst and frustration.

His
father might have the answer, but he’d vowed never to ask his father for
anything again. That vow was as close to the core of his being as anything was.

But
he couldn’t lose Emily. He just couldn’t.

He
wouldn’t
.

There
had to be something he could do to save her.

Even
if he couldn’t keep her in his home, in his bed, in his life forever, at least
she would be alive. At least she could be happy.

And
now there was something else, nudging at the back of his mind. He couldn’t let
himself think too far about this new possibility—since the faint hope hurt him
so much—but he couldn’t help but occasionally wonder whether, if Emily lived,
she might be persuaded to stay with him as his wife after all.

She
obviously cared about him. Maybe…maybe…

It
hurt too much to even hope.

And
he had to save her first.

When
he finally shook himself out of the brooding stupor, he tried to clear out some
of the email that had collected while he was gone. Well before midnight, he
just gave up.

He
was too tired to think clearly, and he wanted to see Emily.

He
found her in her bedroom. She’d just taken a bath, and she told him she was
really tired too so she’d be coming to bed shortly.

So
Paul went to take a shower to wash off the lingering remnants of camping. Emily
was in bed when he emerged from the bathroom.

She
didn’t seem very talkative tonight. In fact, she seemed unusually quiet. She
was probably as tired as he was, though, and maybe she was feeling some of that
same letdown on returning to the real world.

So
Paul turned off the lights without saying much. He knew sex was off the table
when she just cuddled up at his side, wrapping her arm around his middle and
sighing a few times before mumbling goodnight. He’d taken care of himself in
the shower—thinking she might be too tired for sex—so he wasn’t particularly
pained by her decision.

She
fell asleep almost immediately, but it took a long time for Paul to turn his
mind off enough to sleep. He kept trying to find new options, come up with
workable scenarios that would lead to a treatment for Emily.

Obviously,
late night brooding led to nothing constructive. So, when he finally fell
asleep, his arm still holding Emily tightly against him, his slumbers were
shallow and restless.

Which
was why he woke up immediately at almost three o’clock in the morning when
Emily rolled away from his side.

He
looked over at her in the dark room. She was huddled up in a ball, facing away
from him. He reached over to feel her forehead and was relieved to discover she
wasn’t unusually warm.

He
tried to go back to sleep. He tried for countless minutes. But, so late at
night, awake by himself in the dark, he couldn’t help but imagine with dread, with
an agonizing pressure in his heart, how he would feel if Emily died.

He
wasn’t sure how he would survive it. Just imagining it almost leveled him.

He
tried to exert mental control and reorder his thoughts, focusing on the next
item on Emily’s list—she wanted to climb to the top of a volcano.  There were
any number of options for this, and he tried to figure out what she might enjoy
most and what could be done with the least difficulties.

He’d
almost succeeded in concentrating on this much more innocuous problem when he
was suddenly aware that Emily was shaking on the other side of their bed.

He
turned his head to look at her again. Saw her shoulders were definitely
shaking. Then he heard a harsh intake of breath that she was obviously trying
to hide.

He
reached over and put a hand on her shoulder to pull her over toward him. “Baby,
what is it?”

“Nothing.”
She was obviously lying. Her whole body was shuddering now, and she was trying
to pull away from his grip, pull into a protective ball. “Sorry I woke you up.”

“You
didn’t wake me up. Tell me what’s wrong.”