“You’re not trying hard enough,” Rachel teased. “Just think of something else.”
“Sweetheart, when you’re naked in my arms, it’s impossible to think of anything else.”
Rachel smiled down at him, her pale hair falling in waves around her face. She bent close and kissed him, her tongue teasing at his. Though they’d probably made love fifty times, it was never the same. Each encounter revealed some new passion or hidden desire.
As she began to move again, Dermot grasped her hips, trying to slow her pace. But Rachel seemed determined to challenge his control with every stroke and every sigh, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.
She closed her eyes and pressed her palms to his chest, her expression a mix of intensity and exhilaration. He wanted to touch her, to help her find her release, but when he tried, she brushed his hand away.
When he felt her pace increase, there was nothing more he could do to stave off his orgasm. Suddenly, Rachel stopped, her body arching against his, her fingers digging into his shoulders. And then she dissolved into shudders and spasms, her breath coming in gasps as she cried out.
The moment he felt her body convulse around him, Dermot knew he was lost. He grabbed her waist and rolled her beneath him. Reality fell out of focus and he let the waves wash over him, every nerve in his body firing, every tension releasing.
It was over so quickly. Dermot curled up beside her, his leg thrown across her hips. “How the hell am I supposed to get along without that?”
“There’s always self-gratification,” Rachel said. She looked over at him. “We could do it over the phone.”
“Or the computer.”
“I will miss you,” Rachel said, nuzzling her face into his shoulder.
“What will you miss the most?” Dermot asked.
She pushed up on her elbow, her hand smoothing over his chest. “I’m not sure I could name just one thing. It’s a lot of really strange things, things I just started noticing. Like when you eat cereal in the morning, you turn your bowl after each bite. And when you sleep, you just throw yourself all over the bed, like a giant rag doll. And the goats seem to like you a lot more than they like me.” Rachel curled back up beside him. “What about me? What will you miss the most?”
“This,” he said.
“Sex?”
“No,” Dermot replied. “This. Just you and me. All alone, listening to you talk. Knowing I can just pull you into my arms and kiss you or make love to you.”
Rachel rolled over and folded her arms across her chest. “I want you to leave your clothes here with me.”
“You want my clothes?”
She nodded. “They smell like you. I can sleep with them until I get used to you being gone. Kind of like a security blanket.” She reached over and grabbed his pillow and pulled it to her. “I think I’ll take this with me for now.”
“Where are you going?”
“I should go back to my own room. In case the boys get up and need something.”
“Stay,” he said. “We have so little time left. We’ll just get up before they do. I always wake up in time. I promise, they won’t even know you’re gone.”
The breeze freshened and a cool wind blew through the bedroom. Rachel reached down and pulled the old quilt up around them both. “Did you feel that?”
“Yeah.”
“Autumn is coming. We’ll breed the goats and watch them all get round and lazy. And then, starting sometime in February, they’ll all have babies.
Even though it’s the dead of winter, it’s my favorite time of the year.”
As his hands smoothed over her hips, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of need. Would there ever come a time when he didn’t want her? When they’d completely exhausted their desire for each other? The prospect of waking up alone, without her beside him, was almost unimaginable. Casual sex with any other woman would never satisfy him again.
Raking his fingers through his hair, Dermot closed his eyes. He felt her palm move to his face.
It should be easy to rationalize the end of their time together, Dermot mused. He’d walked away from any number of women with whom he’d shared longer relationships. But it wasn’t just the physical uncoupling that he found difficult. From the beginning he’d been attached to Rachel emotionally, and that bond had only strengthened over the past weeks.
Even now, the thought of letting her go caused an ache deep inside of him, an emptiness that couldn’t be filled, not even with another woman. The kind of pleasure that he’d experienced with Rachel had been unique and perfect and it would be impossible to find with anyone else.
Dermot closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. He would get over her and he’d learn to live without her. It was just a matter of letting go.
9
RACHEL SAT ON THE END of the bed, watching as Dermot packed the last of his clothes in his leather duffel. He remembered the day he’d stepped off the bus in Mapleton, wondering what he was supposed to do with himself for six weeks. And now, time had flown so quickly, it seemed like just yesterday that he’d met her outside the feed store.
“What time does your bus leave?” she asked.
“4:00 p.m.”
He’d said goodbye to the boys before they left for school and later had a long talk with Eddie about the future and “carpe”ing his diem. And then, he’d walked through the barn and said his farewells to the goats.
He and Rachel had spent the early afternoon in her bed, curled up with each other, talking about the time they’d spent together. It was as if he was about to wander into a deep desert and she was the last drop of water he’d have. She was sweet and satisfying. And like water, she was what kept him alive.
“How long will it take for you to get home?”
“A while,” he said. “The ride out here was two days and four transfers.”
“You had enough for a plane ticket,” she said. “Before you bought that quilt. Why don’t you let me buy you a plane ticket?”
He’d never thought of that option. It would give him two extra days to spend with Rachel. But his grandfather had given all four of them very specific instructions. And two and a half days of nothing but passing scenery would give him time to sort out everything that had happened in the past six weeks.
He sighed softly. He’d thought his grandfather had gone off the deep end with this plan of his. When he’d left Seattle, Dermot couldn’t imagine any other life for himself but the one he had. And now, he was forced to admit that the life he’d shared with Rachel was… perfect. Wonderful. A revelation.
“I have to take the bus,” he said. “It’s part of the deal.”
“Are you excited to get back?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “I mean, I’m looking forward to seeing my brothers. I’d love to know what they’ve been up to. But after living here on the farm, my life at home seems a bit dull.”
She giggled. “You think the farm is more exciting than living in Seattle?”
“I’ve loved this life,” he said. “It’s simple and oddly satisfying. I’ve loved working beside you and sitting at the table watching you make dinner and I even love burning the garbage. I feel healthy, like I’ve actually put in a day’s work when I’m done.” He held out his hands. “And I have calluses.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to take his hands