“Ooh,” she said, digging her nails into his back.
“Better?”
She made a strangled sound and writhed against him. She’d gone from uncertain to Ay Dios, qué rico in less than five seconds. “More.”
He gave her what she asked for, moving in and out steadily. Then he gave her a little more. He slipped his hand between them and placed his thumb over her clit. Her lips parted in shock as he rubbed her in lazy circles.
She’d touched herself many times, and fantasized about him doing it, but she’d never imagined it could feel like this. The combination of slick fullness and rhythmic stroking unraveled her. She came apart like a spool of thread, spinning out of control. Her hips bucked off the blanket and her mouth formed a silent scream of ecstasy.
When the climax was over, she lay there with her arms splayed out, feeling woozy. He was staring at her as if she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Swallowing hard, he began to thrust again. He grasped her hips, driving deeper. Then he let out a hoarse yell and buried himself inside her, his shoulders quaking from the power of his release.
She marveled at the sight of him in the throes of ecstasy. She loved his corded neck and sweaty, flushed skin. His twitching pecs were sublime.
“Fuck,” he said, breathing heavily. He rested his forehead on her collarbone. After a long moment, he withdrew from her body and rolled over. He didn’t appear as relaxed as she felt. His eyes were closed, brow furrowed.
“Are you in pain?” she asked.
He grimaced at the question. “I’m okay.”
“You’re hurt,” she cried, sitting forward. “I hurt you.”
With a mild grunt, he got up and disposed of the condom. His limp was more pronounced now, his features etched in discomfort. He buttoned his pants and lay down beside her, silent. She covered them both with the blanket.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “That was selfish.”
“It wasn’t selfish.”
“You are injured and I thought only of myself.”
His chest rumbled with laughter. “In case you didn’t notice, I was a willing participant.”
“I seduced you on purpose.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “Baby, it doesn’t matter what you did. I got under the blanket with you. I kissed you and touched you and talked about getting you wet. Everything that happened was on me.” His voice dropped an octave. “And you felt so fucking good, I forgot all about my leg.”
She glanced at him, her cheeks hot. His sexy talk made her tingle with warmth. It was true that he hadn’t needed much convincing. But they were both responsible for the encounter, not just him. When she’d sucked his thumb into her mouth, she hadn’t been thinking about his injury. She hadn’t been thinking about his career. She’d been thinking about his hard length, deep inside her.
“Did you like it?”
Her jaw dropped. “You couldn’t tell?”
“I want to be sure.”
“Ian,” she said, pressing her lips to his chest. “You were perfect.”
“Perfect?”
“Too big, maybe.”
His eyes narrowed at this claim, as if he suspected her of embellishing. “Really?”
She hid a smile, aware that men liked to boast about their size. He was just right. “What we did, this was a pounding?”
“No. I was trying to be gentle.”
She snuggled in closer, loving him for it. But she didn’t say that, because she’d already caused him enough pain. One night of passion couldn’t change their trajectories. He was going north, to his bright future and challenging career, while she was heading south, back home. Back to her family.
Back to the life she’d never wanted, without him.
Chapter 16
Sarai crept out of her hiding place just before dawn.
When la migra had arrived at the last station, she’d been sitting on the ground next to the train. The passengers had started running in all different directions, because there was nowhere to go. They were in a small valley, surrounded by immigration vans. It was the perfect ambush spot. Instead of fleeing in a panic, she’d slipped between railcars and dropped to her belly. While men were beaten and women screamed in terror, she’d army-crawled along the tracks until she found what she was looking for near the front of the train. It was part garbage chute, part latrine.
She’d inspected the underside of the train during a lull the first night. She’d been searching for a safe place to sleep or an emergency escape hatch. The cargo hulls offered no such luxuries. This freight train was made of impenetrable metal boxes with ribbed sides. They were locked up tight. The only viable option was crawling through garbage.
She held her breath as she shimmied through the cramped, foul space. It smelled like urine and spoiled food, and the sides were slick with some kind of nasty mess. If she’d been any bigger, she wouldn’t have fit. If she’d been any smaller, she’d have slid right back out. She grimaced at the thought of what might rain down on her while she hid.
Luckily there was another option. When she surfaced inside the railcar, she found a second trash bin right next to the chute. She crawled out the lid and scurried into the bin. It appeared to be a storage space for cardboard boxes and other recyclables. There was more room here, and she felt safer from discovery, but it was hardly clean or comfortable. Sharp edges poked her at every angle. The odor of rodent droppings burned her nostrils. She stayed there for the next twelve hours.