They moved in perfect rhythm. She couldn't get as deeply into him as she wanted, and he must have felt the same. Because when he came, he held her possessively in place, his fingers making deep impressions in her flesh.
She burrowed her face in the hollow beneath his shoulder and pinched the flesh there between her teeth.
It was a long, slow, sweet climax. The aftermath was as long, slow, and sweet.
Tiel was so totally relaxed, replete, that it felt as though she had melted and become a part of him. She couldn't distinguish her skin from his. She didn't want to. She didn't even move when he pulled the sheet and blanket up over them. She fell asleep there, with him still sheathed in her softness, her ear resting on his heart.
"Tiel?"
"Hmm?"
"It's your alarm."
She muttered grumpily and pushed her hands deeper into the warmth of his armpits.
"You've got to get up. The chopper's coming back for you, remember?"
She did. But she didn't want to. She wanted to stay exactly where she was for at least the next ten years. It would take her that long to catch up on the sleep she had lost last night. It would take her that long to get enough of Doc.
"Come on. Up." He gave her fanny an affectionate smack. "Make yourself presentable before Sheriff Montez gets here."
Groaning, she rolled off him. Around a huge yawn, she asked, "How'd you know our arrangements?"
"He told me. That's how I knew where to find you." She gave him a misty look and he said, "Yes, he knew I wanted to know. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Yes."
"He and I are buddies. Play poker occasionally. He knows my story, why I moved out here, but he's good at keeping confidences."
"Even from the FBI."
"He asked if he could take my statement, and Galloway agreed. He had his hands full." He threw his legs over the side of the bed. "Mind if I use the bathroom first? I'll be quick."
"Be my guest."
In the process of bending down to pick up his boxers, he caught her with her hands far above her head, back arched, stretching lazily. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on her breasts. He fondled the raised tip. "Maybe I don't want you to get in that chopper."
"Ask me not to and maybe I won't."
"You would."
"I have to," she said ruefully.
Sighing, he withdrew his hands. "Yeah." He got up and went into the bathroom.
"Maybe," Tiel whispered to herself, "I could convince you to come with me."
She removed a bra and panties set from her suitcase, put them on, and was just about to step into a pair of slacks when she sensed Doc watching her.
She turned, ready with a suggestive smile and a saucy remark about peeping Toms. But his expression didn't invite either. In fact, he was practically bristling with rage.
Mystified, her lips parted to ask what the matter was when he held out his hand. Lying in his palm was the audio tape recorder. It had been in the pocket of her slacks, which she'd left along with her other dirty clothes in a pile on the commode lid. He'd moved them, found the recorder.
Her expression must have been a dead giveaway of her guilt because with a vicious punch of his thumb, he depressed the Play button and his voice cut across the silence. "For instance, the hospital buckled beneath the weight of bad publicity. Bad publicity generated and nurtured by people like you."
In a like manner, he stopped the tape and threw the recorder down onto the bed. "Take it." Looking scornfully at the tangled bed linens, he added, "You earned it."
"Doc, listen. I-"