Pure Iron Read Online Free PDF Page B

she was supposed to do. At the flash of a mental lightbulb, she rose and disappeared into the bathroom, which wasn’t hard to find. She dug out a clean washcloth, turned on the spigot, rinsed out her mouth and drank some water before it ran warm, and wet the washcloth in the warm water. She wrung it out and brought it to the bedroom. Again, she knelt between his thighs, but this time she gently wiped him clean.
    She rose and took the soiled washcloth back to the bathroom. A minute later she returned, paused, opened her mouth as though to say something, then closed it without speaking. A blush spread across her face and neck and Mick wanted to see how far it extended. She took a few steps toward the door.
    Mick sat up and said, “Stay. Please.”
    “Why?” she asked, standing poised to flee.
    Suddenly suffused with energy, he forced himself to say slowly, gently, “Because I want you to. Because you want to stay.”
    She averted her gaze, uncertainty evident in her posture. He rose and pulled up his underwear and pants. With a yank, he zipped the fly, but left the waistband unbuttoned. He brushed past her and picked up his guitar, hoisting it into place. A second, two seconds, to gather his thoughts, then his fingers worked their magic and the music flowed. The tune that he had painstakingly teased from his mind suddenly poured forth complete. His ear, mind, and hands committed the score to memory.
    Sonia could not help but listen as the guitar wept beautiful music. The notes rang surely and with confidence.
    “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
    He lowered his guitar when the song ended and looked at her, eyes bright and burning. “I’ve been working on this song for over a year, but couldn’t get it to flow, couldn’t figure out anything beyond the refrain. Until you. A few hours with you and I’m suddenly creating the best work of my life.”
    Sonia’s mouth opened, then closed again, for lack of words.
    “Stay. Please,” he asked again. Begged, really.
    “I—I—”
    “We’ll get married,” he continued in a rush, keeping his voice soft and persuasive, the volume low. The cold part of his mind reasoned that if the woman whose novice attentions had just given him the absolute best blowjob in his life wouldn’t have sex without a piece of government paper, then he’d happily take care of that little obstacle. “We can fly to Las Vegas in less than two hours.”
    “I—I—”
    He set down the guitar and crossed the room. Mick wrapped his arms around her, aligning her body against his. He lowered his lips to hers and, before kissing her senseless, said, “Say yes.”
    “But—” Sonia gasped a weak objection when he let her up for air. He rolled his hips against her and she realized that he was hard again. A quiver rippled through her and she felt her core grow slick with a fresh secretion of moisture. A second later, she found her mouth captured by his, Mick’s hands roaming beneath her shirt to stroke her back, dipping beneath the loose waistband of her shorts to caress her butt. And she was certain that her brain cells had begun to melt and every intelligent thought dribble out her ears.
    “I’ll buy you a restaurant, a little cafe so you won’t be wasting your education,” he offered spontaneously as the cold, calculating part of his brain asked why she should stay with him. What was in it for her?
    “I wouldn’t marry you for your money, Mick,” she protested stiffly.
    “A wedding present,” he coaxed, rocking his hips into her again, letting her feel the strength of his irrational, unreasonable, unaccountable desire for her. And if the marriage didn’t work out—as he fully expected within a few months—then she would have her restaurant to fall back on.
    He could feel and see her hesitation.
    “When was the last time you did anything on impulse, Sonia?” he asked between long, drugging kisses as one hand palmed her breast and kneaded the plump flesh. “When was the last time