Chapter 10
Emma had her third rock-climbing lesson on Thursday. Two days since she and Ryan had gotten naughty in the back hall of The Music Factory. One day since they’d agreed to become friends with benefits. Zero seconds since she last thought about what that was going to be like and when it would happen.
Ryan stood below her, belay rope in hand, as she struggled up the rock face. She’d gotten some of the basic terminology down now—she knew about smears and edging techniques that let her put her feet on impossibly small ledges and indents in the rock that somehow her climbing shoes held on to. She’d gotten better at keeping her weight in her toes and using her arms for balance.
And today, she was aiming for the top.
“That’s right. Move your left foot over…yeah,” Ryan encouraged her from the ground.
“Dammit.” She’d reached the area near the top that stymied her every time. Wide and flat and impossibly smooth, she simply couldn’t see a way to get past it.
“You’re thinking about it too hard. Just feel the rock for your next move.”
“That makes absolutely no sense, you know.” If she sounded a little bit miffed, that’s because she was. Learning to rock climb was one of the first goals she’d set for herself when she’d decided to shake things up, and so far she sucked at it.
“Reach with your right hand,” Ryan said.
She did, and her fingers slid into a little crease she hadn’t noticed. Aha! She shifted right, following the new direction he’d led her in and…
Off the rock she went, swinging out as the harness broke her fall. She groaned as he lowered her to the ground.
“Don’t get frustrated,” he said. “You’re doing great for your third lesson. Learning out here on the rock is a lot harder than learning on an indoor wall.”
She huffed out a sigh and grabbed the rock again. An hour—and four falls—later, she was ready to give up. This was the “bunny slope” of Off-the-Grid’s rock climbs, and she couldn’t even master it.
“Guess my time’s up for today,” she said, resting her hands on her knees as she glared up at the rock that had bested her.
“I don’t have any other appointments this afternoon. You want to give it one more try?”
“I don’t know…” She glanced up at the rock again. Her muscles shook with fatigue, and her temper was simmering straight toward red.
“Take a few deep breaths, and this time, I want you to focus on working with the rock instead of against it.”
“Why do you sound like such a hippie all of a sudden?” she asked as she gripped the rock, hauling herself up. By now, she knew the first few moves by heart.
Ryan laughed long and hard behind her. “First time I’ve ever been called a hippie. But seriously, the rock is not your enemy. Stop fighting with it.”
“Whatever you say, Hippie.” But she was smiling as she worked her way up to her trouble spot, looking for the secret handhold Ryan had guided her toward earlier. The place where she’d now fallen five times in a row.
She swung her foot and toed into an edge far enough out to the side that she knew she must be giving Ryan an eyeful from below. She’d give him hell for staring at her ass, but she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move for fear of falling.
The top was just past her fingertips.
Sucking in a slow, shaky breath, she shifted her weight onto her right foot. It held. Muscles trembling from the strain, she swiveled her hips to bring her left foot in, seeking purchase on a nearly invisible smear on the rock beneath her knee.
“Atta girl,” Ryan said from below, his voice seeming to filter in from a million miles away.
Cautiously, she straightened her legs, testing out her precarious new footholds. And…she was eye level with the top. Squelching the urge to celebrate prematurely, she slung her elbows over, grabbed on to the anchor securing her line, and scrambled over the edge in about as ungraceful a move as humanly possible. Her feet scuffled against the rock face until her left toe snagged on something, giving her the boost she needed.
Oomph. She landed in a heap on top of the rock. “Oh my God. I did it.” She pushed up into a sitting position, her chest heaving, muscles shaking like Jell-O. “I really did it!”
“Don’t move a muscle,” Ryan said, his voice taut.
She froze, thinking for a moment she was in danger. But he unclipped his harness from the belay line, gripped the rock, and started climbing toward her with a speed and ease that made her feel like a total novice all over again.
It took him about two minutes to climb the rock face that had taken her at least fifteen, and he wasn’t even wearing a harness. He hauled himself up beside her, pulled her into his lap, and covered her mouth with his.
Oh. She let out a gasp of surprise as heat spread like wildfire inside her.
“I’m so fucking proud of you.” His voice was low and gruff, thick with lust and pride, and it tickled all her sensitive nerve endings, turning her to jelly in his arms.
“Thanks.” She leaned forward to kiss him back, her victory all but forgotten in the heat of his kiss, the scorching stroke of his tongue against hers, the delicious feel of his hands skimming down her sides to grip her ass, drawing her closer against him.
She shifted so that her knees dropped down on either side of his thighs, straddling him. He was hard, so hard, and the bulge in his jeans pressed into her right where she burned for him. She rocked her hips against his. The friction of his jeans through the thin cotton of her yoga pants was enough to make her lose her mind.
Ryan pressed her more firmly against his erection. “Watching you climb that rock is the biggest fucking turn-on.”
Really?She must have looked ridiculous, flailing around as she scrambled for the top. “It would be really bad if you took me right here.” She emphasized the word as fantasies of them having wild sex up here on top of the world exploded through her brain.
He groaned. “Bad in all the wrong ways. Bad in the ‘bruises and scrapes where the sun don’t shine’ and potentially fall to your death in the throes of passion kind of way.”
Well, when he put it that way…
He shifted her to a more ladylike position in his lap, then kissed her again. “But I couldn’t go another moment without kissing you.”
Something about the way he said it sent a warm tingle up her spine. He sounded possessive. Of her.
“Did you get a good look at the view?” he asked.
“I like the view.” She smiled, staring straight into his eyes. She’d spent the better part of her life fantasizing about him looking at her the way he was right now, and yet the reality was still better than she’d imagined.
He dipped his head and kissed her again. “I mean the view around us. It’s always better when you’ve scaled the rock to get here.”
She turned her head, seeing the forest around her for the first time from her new vantage point, and yeah, it was pretty awesome. She slid out of his lap and crawled to the edge. Lying on her stomach, she looked down at where she’d started. “Wow. It looks even higher from up here.”
“Not bad, huh?” He came to lay beside her. “I climb up here when I need to clear my head.”
“I can see how this would do it.” She lay there for several minutes, just staring out at the vista in front of her. “Thanks for pushing me to try again.”
“Any time.”
She listened to the birds chattering in the trees, then rolled to her back to watch the sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves overhead. “I could stay here all day.”
“Fine by me,” Ryan said. “Hey, how’s the memorial coming?”
And just like that, her peaceful mood was ruined. “I met with the Town Planning Committee this morning, actually. They rejected my design.”
“What? Why?”
“They thought it was too trendy.” Emma stared up at the trees overhead, avoiding Ryan’s concerned gaze. Lucas and Mary had warned her this might happen, but it still hadn’t prepared her for the enormous sting of the Planning Committee’s rejection.
“I’m sorry, Em. That’s lousy.” He lay beside her, taking her hand in his. “But it’s just a bump in the road. You’ll come up with something else, something even better.”
“I sure hope so.” She turned her head to look at him. “What’s next, Ryan?”
His brown eyes were alive with the dappled light of the forest around them. “I assume you don’t mean right here, right now.”
“No, apart from the fact that we’re lying here on this rock we just climbed…what comes next with all the kissing and stuff?”
“Not quite sure myself.” His lips curved in a wicked smile. “But if you have any wild fantasies in mind, I thought our trip to Charlotte this weekend might be a good time to fulfill them.”
She gulped audibly, her throat gone dry as sandpaper. “Oh.” Yes. Their trip to Charlotte to get her tattoo.
“So let me hear it, baby. What naughty fantasy do you want to indulge first?” His voice was delightfully rough, his eyes having taken on a slightly wicked gleam.
“Um.” Gah. He’d rendered her speechless. “Surprise me.”
“Oh, baby, that is a definite ‘can do.’”
Ryan rolledthe Harley into Emma’s driveway just past noon on Saturday. He’d told her to pack a backpack with a change of clothes and something nice to wear later. Hopefully she knew how to travel light because taking the bike was going to set the mood for their whole trip.
She came out her front door wearing pale pink jeans that fit her like a second skin, knee-high black leather boots, and a fitted black jacket, her hair hanging in golden waves down her back, and fuck, he was hard as steel just looking at her. She carried a backpack slung over one arm, sunglasses in hand, her blue eyes bright with excitement.
He stood and pulled her into his arms. “You look…you’re fucking stunning, Emma.”
“Really?” She looked up at him with an amused smile. “I’m just wearing jeans.”
“A woman dressed to ride is my weakness.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, leaning in to kiss him.
He pressed a finger to her lips. “Better not. Can’t ride with a hard-on, and you are turning me on big time right now.”
She glanced down at the front of his jeans, a soft smile curving her lips. “I talked to your brother this morning. We were thinking about getting the group together over at Ethan and Gabby’s place sometime soon for a game night. She’s got a video game console, and I’ve got loads of board games.”
“Okay,” he said, confused by the shift in topic.
“Did it work?” she asked, gesturing toward his crotch.
Ah. Now he got it, and yes, her diversion had worked. “Like a charm. You ready?”
She nodded, shrugging the backpack over her shoulders. He handed her his spare helmet and mounted the bike. It roared to life beneath him, and Emma climbed on behind him, sliding into place like a pro. Her hands wrapped around his waist, locking into position.
He pulled out onto the road, invigorated by the slap of mountain air. He took his time winding down from the mountains, sticking to the twisting back roads that got his adrenaline pumping for as long as possible. A couple of hours later, as they neared Charlotte, he merged onto the highway for the remainder of the trip.
Emma’s arms tightened around him.
Yeah, this felt a lot different than the mountain roads they’d left behind. The highway was flat, fast, and clogged with other vehicles. He settled in with the flow of traffic, watching as the Charlotte skyline unfurled before them. It had been almost a year since he’d left the city. It had held a certain appeal once. Now he found himself missing the winding roads and fresh air in Haven. Course, he’d brought one of the best parts of the mountains here with him this weekend.
They exited the highway on South Boulevard, headed for House of Ink, which he’d once managed. Emma had been e-mailing back and forth with its co-owner and Ryan’s good buddy, Stephen Betts, to finalize the design for her tattoo.
Ryan rolled up to a stoplight, and Emma leaned in. “Is it just me or are some of these cars coming a bit too close for comfort?”
“Just feels that way because you’re not used to riding in traffic. Don’t worry, babe. I’ll keep you safe.”
“You’d better.” He could hear the smile in her voice.
The light turned green, and he guided them through his old neighborhood until House of Ink came into view, a nondescript storefront lit with a neon sign.
Ryan rolled into a spot out front and cut the engine.
“Oh boy,” Emma whispered behind him.
“Nervous?”
“A little.”
“Don’t be. You’re in good hands with Stephen.”
“Tell me the truth,” she said, sliding to her feet. “How bad does it hurt?”
“Like a son of a bitch,” he answered with a grin.
“Hmm.” She propped her hands on her hips and eyed the front of the shop. “Okay, the truth is, I’m terrified right now.”
“Not too late to change your mind,” he said.
She lifted the helmet from her head and shook out her hair. “No way. Come on. Let’s go inside before I lose my nerve.”
He caught her hand and tugged her up against him. “Seriously. Be sure about this.” And he wasn’t just talking about the tattoo.
She pressed her lips against his. “I’m sure. This is something I’ve always wanted to do but never had the courage. You’ll hold my hand if I need you to, right?”
“Right.” And if he sounded a little gruff, it had nothing to do with the raw emotion stamped all over Emma’s face right now. God, she was amazing.
He locked their helmets on the bike and followed her inside. The place hadn’t changed since he’d last seen it, and the familiar surroundings hit him with a wave of nostalgia. He’d had a couple of good years here. He itched to pop into his old office, see how the new guy was doing.
“Ryan!” Stephen came out from the back and pulled him in for a hug and a clap on the back. “It’s good to see you, man. How’s it going?”
“Good. The new business is doing really well.”
“And you must be Emma,” Stephen said, extending a hand. “Stephen Betts.”
“Nice to meet you.” Emma was looking around the place, wide-eyed.
Ryan would bet she’d never stepped foot inside a tattoo parlor before. He sure as hell hoped she didn’t regret this—regret him—after the whole thing was said and done.
“The pleasure’s all mine.” Stephen, for all his hulking size, shaved head, and heavily inked skin, was nothing short of a gentleman, one of many reasons Ryan had brought her to him. “Let me show you around the place before we get started.”
“That sounds great,” Emma said, curiosity gleaming in her eyes as she glanced around the lobby, eyeing the artwork on the walls. “Are all of these your designs?”
“Mine and my brother, Sean’s. He’s not here today, and he was real disappointed to miss seeing you guys.” Stephen led her down the hallway, where several tattoos were in progress in rooms on either side of the hall.
Emma gave Ryan a wide-eyed look. He squeezed her shoulder.
“I’ve got your design all ready to be transferred,” Stephen said, indicating an unoccupied room on the left. “Restroom’s all the way down on the right if you want to freshen up, and feel free to help yourself to a soda from the mini-fridge across the hall. I know y’all had a long ride.”
“Thanks so much,” Emma said with a grateful smile, heading down the hall.
“Looks like the mountains have been good for you,” Stephen said, stepping into the room to get things ready.
“Sure have. Things going good here?”
“No complaints. Miss having you around.” Stephen cracked a smile. “Been thinking about riding up sometime to try out that zip-line course of yours.”
“Yeah? That’d be great, man. Any time.”
“New business. New girl. You’re puttin’ down roots, huh?”
Ryan straightened. “I’m going to stick in Haven, yeah. But Emma and I?—”
Stephen put a hand up. “Not my business. Just good to see you looking happy, that’s all.”
Emma walked into the room then, Diet Coke in hand. She cracked it open and looked from Ryan to Stephen. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Ryan went down the hall to grab himself a drink and ended up meeting the new manager after all. By the time he made it back to Emma’s room, she was in the chair, fully reclined. Her skin-tight jeans were unzipped and pushed down far enough to reveal a flash of pink lace and enough creamy skin to knock the knees right out from under him. Stephen sat on his stool at her side, carefully transferring their design onto her hip.
Ryan leaned against the wall, one foot crossed over the other, hoping he looked nonchalant and not like the idiot who’d brought his girl here to have her skin inked before he’d gotten her naked, letting Stephen see parts of her Ryan himself hadn’t seen yet. The next hour was going to be pure torture. He gulped from his Coke, trying not to stare at that scrap of pink lace and imagine what the rest of it looked like.
At least he’d brought her here, where he could be sure Stephen wasn’t looking or touching inappropriately. The man was happily married and completely professional at all times. Nope, the only person in the room ogling Emma’s exposed hip and having X-rated fantasies was Ryan.
After Stephen had transferred the design onto her skin and showed it to her, he got down to the real business at hand. At Ryan’s suggestion, Emma had her ear buds in and was listening to music, eyes closed. She flinched when Stephen first touched the needle to her skin, and the room filled with the buzz of the tattoo machine.
Ryan watched for a few minutes to make sure she was okay. Her face scrunched up a few times, but she seemed to be handling the discomfort just fine. Emma’s tattoo was fairly simple. Stephen inked the black parts first, weaving an anchor subtly into the stem of the flower just as she’d envisioned. Then the poppy began to take shape in brilliant hues of red.
Ryan thumbed through e-mails on his phone and snuck peeks as Stephen worked, still wondering how the hell he hadn’t foreseen the problem with her bared skin and his filthy, sex-starved brain. But as soon as they got out of here? All bets were off. He ought to wine and dine her before he took her to bed, but fuck, he needed her in the worst way.
She’d said she wanted to be a little bit wild, but did she really mean it? He sure as hell hoped so because he didn’t know how to be tame.