Chapter Twelve
Wednesday morning, Ryan drove over to the address Claire had texted him. He’d picked up a rental car, moved to a more affordable hotel, and stopped responding every time Eddie called, emailed, or texted him to ask what was up. He knew pissing off his manager and the guys in Little White Lie wouldn’t help his comeback. But he didn’t want to change a thing.
Not if it meant he didn’t get to experience this—Claire running out to meet him, Claire smelling of morning and coffee and lavender soap, Claire laughing in the car, peppering him with questions about where they were going.
He mimed zipping his lips shut. He wasn’t going to spill no matter how much she asked. She’d always loved surprises, and he hoped she still did. Nothing beat the way she exhaled when she sat back in the passenger seat and let herself enjoy the scenery, knowing she didn’t have to take care of anything.
But when he pulled into the trailhead and parked, she bolted upright and whirled on him.
“You’re kidding me,” she said.
He laughed and pretended to scan the trees, as though he hadn’t heard. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“That depends.” She fixed him with a look. “What exactly do you have planned?”
But he only shrugged. This was way too much fun.
“Are we hiking?” she asked. “You didn’t tell me to wear hiking boots.”
All he’d said was for her to wear something comfortable, and she’d taken him seriously, looking dead sexy in leggings and a soft V-neck T-shirt. It wasn’t the slinky black number she’d tortured him with the other night, but it didn’t need to be. He wanted to tear it off her all the same.
But he had to stay focused on why they were here—which wasn’t to have sex in a woodsy parking lot off a gravel road. Although, he wouldn’t say no to that if she insisted. Clearly, no matter where they were or what he told himself, he couldn’t keep his hands off of her.
When they got out of the car, he popped the trunk, grabbed the backpack, and swung it over his shoulder, ignoring Claire’s protests that she should carry it since he was still recovering. Luckily, he’d remembered her shoe size, and he’d rented climbing shoes and all the other gear they needed. Plus a few extra clothes in case she needed them, and plenty of water and snacks.
“What’s in there that’s so heavy?” she asked warily.
He smiled. “Just follow me.”
“Should I text someone our coordinates in case I don’t make it out alive?”
“No cell service here.” He winked.
“Great.” Her sigh blew the stray strands of hair off her face.
“You’ve already taken the day off,” he said. “What’s the worst thing that could happen if you trust me?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
“Fine, don’t tell me,” he teased. “But I promise to be worth your while.”
He couldn’t miss her grin. If he had to guess, he’d say she already found him worth hanging around—at least for now.
Which was exactly what he’d hoped for.
The morning had that cool, fall bite in the air, but even through the trees, the sun was strong. He set off on a narrow, wooded path that threaded gently upward. He’d done his best to memorize where they were going so he wouldn’t have to consult a map and give everything away. Hopefully. Getting lost wouldn’t exactly convince Claire she could put herself in his hands, let alone trust him with Maya.
“You’re not taking me climbing, are you?” she said as they set off. “Because you should know, I have two feet, and they both remain firmly on the ground at all times.”
“That’s not true,” he said, flashing her a wicked grin and checking her on the hip as they walked. Even if he’d wanted to keep this day responsible and chaste, there was no way that was going to last. He knew from her flush that they were thinking of the same thing—him lifting her up against the wall of the hotel room, his hands bracing her under her ass, her wrapping her legs around him with a whimper as he pressed against her.
“You love having your legs up for me,” he whispered, even though they were so alone he could have shouted and no one would have heard.
“How much longer, at least?” she demanded, trying—and failing—to cover the blush he’d managed to tease from her.
“As long as it takes.”
She rolled her eyes like he was being a pain in the ass, but really, he was just quoting his sponsor. “How much longer? How much harder?” he’d ask.
The answer was always the same. As long as it takes to get there. As hard as it is to make it work.
But when they arrived at the base of the tall granite cliff, there was no more hiding what he had planned.
“No way,” she said as he stopped and dropped his pack in a clearing. “I’ll watch you. I’ll cheer as loud as you want. But if you think I’m going to Spiderwoman my way up that thing—”
“You’ll feel me behind you with every inch you take,” he said. Because he was evil like that, and she knew it.
“Ryan, I’ve never done this before.”
“I’ll tell you exactly what to do.”
“And I don’t want to die.”
“I’m not going to let you die, Claire. That’s nowhere on the list of things I want to do to you.”
“Oh yeah? What do you want to do to me?”
He tried not to smile, but it was impossible. He could feel the corner of his lips turning up as she looked at him.
“I think you can guess.” It was everything he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since she left his hotel room that night. But somehow it was more fun not to say it. To leave her knowing and not knowing every filthy thought that was churning through his mind.
And his body.
Especially when she picked up the harness.
“On second thought, maybe this is too dangerous,” he said with a groan.
She hooked the harness over one finger, letting it dangle in front of her. “Don’t tell me you’re all talk.”
He snatched it from her hands.
Focus.
He showed her how to step into it and then slid it up her legs. It had sure as hell never been this distracting to outfit anyone else for the first time. His fingers lingered against the line of skin where her T-shirt lifted up from her leggings. He couldn’t help brushing the curve of her ass as he unnecessarily quadruple-checked that the harness was secure around her hips.
“I think it’s tight,” she said, marching her fingers up his chest.
“Oh, it’s very tight,” he said, unable to conceal his groan.
“Is that how you want it?” she murmured, her playfulness making her all the more seductive as she pretended she didn’t know exactly what she was doing to him.
“You know what I want.”
“To put me completely at your mercy while I cling to the face of a rock and bawl my eyes out?”
“You got the first part right.” He kissed her nose. “The second part needs a little work.”
When he put his own harness on, there was no hiding how he felt about her being “at his mercy.” Dudes in harnesses always created an…interesting situation. Getting into a harness with a hard-on was ten times worse. Not only was he standing at attention, but the harness wrapped around his thighs and made his shorts bunch, exaggerating the effect.
Claire eyed him appraisingly. “I see why you like this sport.”
“It’s not usually like this,” he said.
“It’s not usually that big?” she asked, eyes wide.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you’re around.”
“Lucky for you I’m right here.” She grazed the straining head of his cock through his shorts. He thought she was going to go for it—he desperately wanted her to go for it—but just as quickly she pulled away, letting him know it wasn’t going to be that easy.
“Are we doing this or what?” she asked lightly, one eyebrow arched, reminding him that it had been his idea to come here instead of spending all day in his king-size hotel bed.
Because they were supposed to be talking about their kid. He was supposed to be showing Claire he was trustworthy. Responsible. Different.
He took deep breaths and tried to think of his grandmother, his tax returns, the time he’d gotten tangled up in his rope as he was climbing so that when he fell, he did a somersault in the air and cracked his helmet against the rock.
Not that he was going to tell Claire about that. She didn’t need to be any more worried than she already was. But it helped make him able to form sentences again.
“You’re not nervous, are you?” he asked, reaching for the ropes.
“That you’re going to kill me? I seriously can’t wait.”
He laughed. “I promise, I’ll have you the whole time.”
She folded her arms. Maybe that wasn’t the best selling point. He tried again.
“I’m completely trained and certified. I actually do know what I’m doing.”
She looked surprised. “You’ve been busy.”
“Not really,” he said. “Rehab. Getting seriously into climbing. Finally releasing one album in the last five years.” He checked the items off on his fingers, then wiggled the three of them.
Claire grabbed his hand to fold his fingers down.
“You’re too hard on yourself,” she said softly, then seemed to realize they were veering into uncharted territory and let his hand go.
He didn’t want her to. He wanted to lay her down on the soft earth, yank off those fucking cute leggings hugging her ass, and make her come again on his tongue.
But no matter how she’d teased him, he sensed they weren’t quite there yet. He didn’t know what she really wanted. Maybe she thought the night at the hotel was a fluke, a one-time deal—a bit of nostalgia she might wake up to regret. She could have gone for him as soon as she saw how hard he was, but she’d held back.
And holding back was exactly what he didn’t want her to do. Because he wanted her. Again. Whether it was responsible or not.
He looked at her, almost ready to say something else—what it meant to him that she was giving him this chance.
But he didn’t know how to express it, how to turn the feeling in his chest into words he could say.
So instead he looked up at the cliff and asked if she was ready.
“I already told you,” she said. “No.”
He grinned. “But you’ll do it.”
“I don’t know why.”
“I do,” he said and wanted to laugh when she looked at him like she was actually surprised.
“You’ll do it for me,” he said. And she may have denied it up and down, but when she looked up at the rock and took a breath, he knew deep in his gut that it was true.
He only hoped that he could earn it. That she wouldn’t come to regret her faith in him the way she had before.