Gypsy - Lesley Pearse [179]
He was good at kissing, not too forceful nor yet too hesitant, and as the tip of his tongue insinuated itself between her lips, she felt dizzy with desire.
The walls in the Monte Carlo were nothing more than thin wood partitions, and the sound of the various residents talking, laughing and going up and down the stairs was a little disconcerting. Beth was afraid they could hear her heavy breathing as John moved her back to recline on the couch and kissed her again and again. When he put his hand down the bodice of her gown and released her breasts, she had to stifle a gasp of delight as he kissed them.
‘Beautiful breasts,’ he murmured, licking at her nipples with the tip of his tongue. ‘I have dreamed of doing this for so long.’
His hand stole up under her skirt, caressing the soft skin above her stockings, slowly working his way up under her drawers until his fingers found her sex. ‘So wet,’ he whispered. ‘I think you must really want me.’
Beth forgot about the people who might overhear, for John was doing things to her with his fingers that made her want to scream out how good it was. But he was rude with her too, pushing her skirt up so he could look at her body, which made her feel so wicked and wanton.
He took her there on the couch while they were both still dressed, thrusting into her with such force it both shocked and thrilled her.
‘I’m so sorry, that wasn’t very gallant of me,’ he said when he was spent. ‘Please forgive me.’
‘There’s no need to apologize,’ she said, for even if it hadn’t been entirely satisfying, it had been very good.
‘I’ve crumpled your gown too,’ he said, looking concerned.
‘It will recover.’ She laughed. ‘Now, are we going to get into your bed, or am I to go back to my own?’
‘Please stay with me,’ he said, kissing her again. ‘I want to prove I can be a sensitive lover.’
Chapter Thirty-three
‘Wake up, John, something’s going on outside,’ Beth said, shaking his arm roughly.
It was some six or seven weeks since she first went to bed with John, and she’d never had cause to regret it. John had proved he was capable of being not only a sensitive lover, but also an extremely demanding one. He would often search her out during the day while the bar downstairs was full of people, between her two sets in the evenings, and still be ready for more when he finally shut the saloon in the early hours of the morning.
For Beth it was just what she needed. She hardly ever thought of Theo now, and when she did it was with faint amusement rather than hurt. She had made many new friends, she had money saved for the future, and because she only worked in the evenings, she had time to help out at the hospital during the day.
She still missed Jack, but every couple of weeks someone coming in from Bonanza would bring a letter from him. He was working for Ed Osborne, an old Sourdough known affectionately as Ostrich or Oz because he so rarely left his claim. Beth could tell Jack was happy out there for his letters were full of funny little stories about miners he’d met.
Beth was entirely content. Her relationship with John was built on mutual passion, but she didn’t feel the need to dress it up as love, or hope it had a future. John had a wife and three children back in Virginia, and he’d been honest enough to admit from the outset that it was his intention to sell the Monte Carlo by midsummer and return home.
‘There’s always something going on out there,’ John said sleepily, trying to draw her into his arms. ‘Go back to sleep.’
Beth was just about to snuggle down again when she heard the cry of ‘Fire’ and she was instantly out of the bed and at the window.
All she could see was a golden glow further along Front Street, but that was more than enough. This time she pounded John with her fists to wake him, for she’d seen how quickly fire could spread back at the end of ’98. That night the Greentree and Worden hotels and the post office had all burned down, and men had to chop down other structures to stop the fire spreading right through