Filling up the Virgin(244)

“So you want to preserve what you can of history,” Jack said. “Make sure that people have what they need, so they can get their own stories right.”

I shrugged, not sure what point I was really trying to make. He reached over and took my hand in his. His grip was firm and strong, his hands calloused like a working man's. It felt like he had hands that would keep a girl safe in the night. Strong, but gentle. Protective. Sensual.

His fingers caressed mine. Maybe it was the whiskey, but his touch sent a thrill through me. I looked up at him and caught his eye.

“You're a fascinating woman,” he said.

“Is that so?” I arched an eyebrow, studying his rugged features. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Not at all.” He reached over with his other hand and held my hand between both of his. I squeezed his hand tight, feeling like this was a touch I didn't want to let go of. It had been awhile since I'd known the touch of a man. We'd only just met, but sometimes, that's all it takes.

I intertwined my fingers with his. The look in his eyes told me he knew what I had on my mind. “Why, Ms. Harris,” he said, a playful lilt to his tone. “I do believe you're trying to seduce me.”

“You'd better believe it, honey.” I slipped a hand around his neck, pulled him close, and pressed my full lips against his. His scruff scratched my chin, delightfully rough. His calloused hands cupped my cheeks, a solid, working man's hands. I wanted to feel them roaming over my body.

I took his hands and stood, pulling him along with me to the stairs. We slipped into my room, his lips caressing mine, his hands caressing my sides. I wanted more than that. I grabbed his hands and put them where I wanted them. He was eager to comply, massaging my breasts in his firm grip. Before I knew it he had my top off, then my bra, and I felt his rough touch against my soft, smooth skin.

We didn't take our time getting down to business. I slipped my hand down his pants, eliciting a groan as I found what I was looking for. We collapsed onto the bed, our bodies intertwined. He caressed my curves, hugging my ample hips against his, showing no shame in taking what he wanted, what I was more than willing to give. He made love the way he did everything else: careful, deliberate, and sure of himself. He took his time taking care of my every need, until I was bursting with euphoria and I felt like my body would sing.

Afterwards we lay there under the electric hum of the ceiling fan, a light sheen of sweat across both of our bodies. He took my hand in his and raised it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the backs of my fingers.

“That was unexpected,” he said, a soft smile on his lips.

“I know.” I laughed, still basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking. “This trip is turning out to be a lot more pleasant than I'd expected.”



* * *





The next few weeks were a mix of business and pleasure. By day, I led the team on expeditions to various sites around the region. We searched through ruins and abandoned buildings, collecting whatever artifacts we could for delivery out of the country. Everything was carefully packed, tagged, and cataloged, then shipped off to be studied in greater detail at the various museums and universities that Tremaine Industries worked with in this region.

By night, Jack and I continued exploring our newfound passion. The man was as generous as he was sensual, and he had the stamina of an ox. The rest of the team could tell that there was something going on between us, though we kept our exploits behind closed doors. Once we were on the job each day, it was all business, with no time for hanky panky. Not that I would have been ashamed of anything. I was an adult and a woman in my prime, and there was no reason not to embrace passion when I found it. I just wasn't one for public displays in front of people who worked for me.

I realized something was up when I was packing away a collection of small statuary out in the field one warm, dry afternoon. I was recording the dates on the newest batch of shipping labels when I stopped, looking at what day it was and doing the math. I thought back to the packing I'd done before the trip started. When you travel halfway around the world, you have to plan ahead, and there were certain necessities you made sure to stock up on. Tampax had been one of the items at the top of my packing list before I ever got on a plane. It wasn't like I could run to the pharmacy out here and pick some up. But I realized that I hadn't needed them yet, even though I was more than a week late.

“Damn,” I whispered, tapping my fingers on the shipping container. The healthcare system in this country had broken down after the years of armed conflict in the area, making this a place where you couldn't exactly stop at the corner store for a home pregnancy test. I realized I was stuck waiting until I got back to the States before I knew for sure.