Mine Until Morning (31 page)

Which was up in Marin. “I bet you’ve never been there, either, have you?”

She shook her head, then let a smile grow on her lips. “My education is sorely lacking. You’ll have to tutor me.”

God, he wanted to. “We’ll have to take you shopping and get the appropriate clothing.” Tomorrow. Before the evening flight he’d booked. The idea buoyed his spirits. She was willing. He could introduce her to something he loved, like a present he could share.

“Dare I ask where and how far you’re going to make me hike?”

“Slot canyons. Only four or five miles.” He’d hiked slot canyons in Zion, and he’d done a little research on a place down in Palm Springs called the Painted Canyon.

The main idea had been taking Isabel out of San Francisco, away from her environment, giving her something entirely different. Eyes wide again, she mouthed, “Four or five miles?”

He nodded. She was in shape, worked out daily. “Piece of cake.”

“Right,” she snorted. “Famous last words. What are slot canyons?”

“You’ll see.” His mind worked, planning the weekend. He’d booked a suite at one of the resorts, and a swank restaurant for a late dinner. Elbow on the table, she leaned her chin on her fist. “If I do this hike, you have to do something for me.”

His heart thrummed in his chest.

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“A spa treatment afterward.”

He guffawed. “I’ve never done a spa treatment in my life.”

She raised one brow. “I’ve never hiked.”

“Touché. All right, it’s a deal.”

“And,” she added, her lids lowered seductively, “I think you’re going to love this spa.”

HIKING. SHE WAS INSANE. YET SHE WAS GIDDY WITH EXCITEMENT. She’d never been on a traditional vacation with a man, not even a weekender. When she went away, it was work, and she got paid for her work. This was new and exhilarating. While she was packing, Isabel had worn the boots around the flat to break them in. This was his life, his passion. He’d arranged and planned everything, his excitement at the excursion tangible. She had always been the planner. It felt so damn good to have someone else do it for her. She’d told her assistant she was to be disturbed only in an emergency, defined as a close friend near death or the Dow Jones sinking below five thousand. Heh, it was a weekend, so at least that one wasn’t going to happen.

Of course, she’d made an arrangement of her own. The spa. She would blow Royce away. She’d fantasized about introducing him to some of the slightly kinkier things she liked, but she remembered his words that night. When she’d asked if he was sure he wouldn’t hate her later, he’d given her an honest no. So she’d hesitated. But the spa, a very special spa she knew of, might be the perfect way to test the waters.

They’d had a lovely evening flight, the resort was posh, and he’d woken her ungodly early to dress and drive out to the canyon. Of course, he’d needed a leisurely shower with a lot of sex first, hence the true reason for the ungodly hour.

“You look totally fuckable in those shorts,” Royce said behind her as she stretched.

She loved it when he talked dirty. It had taken months to get him to open up to it. She’d adored shopping with him in the sporting goods store, bending over to tie the laces, trying on a million pairs of shorts for his approval. Making him hot and bothered.

“How are the boots?”

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“Fine,” she said. “I laced them tightly over the ankle like you said.” She’d worn a thick pair of wool socks, too.

The morning was sunny but cool. The drive from Palm Springs had taken more than an hour, and it was now nine o’clock. Royce had assured her that once they got moving, they’d warm up, and by the time they made it through the canyons and up to the ridge, she’d be glad for the shorts rather than long pants.

“How’s the pack feel?” He pushed it low on her hips, trailing his hands down over her ass. It was basically a large fanny pack with holders for two water bottles and room inside for sunscreen, a hat, lip balm, sunglasses, TP, a sliced apple, carrot sticks, and something Royce called gorp, a mixture of nuts, raisins, sunflower seeds, banana chips, and dried pineapple. If it got hot, she could shove her Windbreaker in there, too.

“Your legs have goose pimples.” He crouched beside her, rubbing her calves to warm them.

“If you don’t stop that,” she warned, “we’re never going to make it onto the trail.”

“Spoilsport.” He grinned up at her from beneath the brim of his hat. He looked so damn masculine in hiking shorts and mongo walking boots, his legs tanned, shoulders wide beneath his blue Windbreaker. She wanted to jump him. They were still feeling their way through this whole “sharing their lives” thing. When she talked business in front of him, she felt self-conscious, and while they were out, she often likened it to being under his microscope, her every move analyzed, dissected, catalogued. But the sex between them? She couldn’t get enough, and this weekend had given her the opening to introduce him to some alternatives for making it even more exciting. He rose to tower his full six inches over her. Her stomach fluttered. Holding his hand out, he murmured, “Are you ready?”

God, she was ready, despite the fact that they’d spent most of the night rolling around in that big old bed at the resort, not to mention this morning’s shower. Isabel was always ready.

“Sure.” She laid her palm in his and let him lead. She hadn’t been on a sex date since their new agreement. He hadn’t said she shouldn’t or couldn’t; it just seemed respectful of trying to grow their relationship.

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“Much of the canyon is along the San Andreas Fault,” he said, matching his longer stride to hers. The sandy canyon floor gave her legs an extra workout.

“It’s beautiful.” The canyon walls rose before them, the rock different shades of green, red, pink, giving rise to its name, the Painted Canyon. They’d taken a long, dusty dirt road into the park and had stopped the car at the mouth. A quarter mile in, they came upon an arrow made of stones, pointing straight at a fissure in the canyon wall.

Royce consulted a hiking map. “That’s where we go.”

“We can’t fit in there.”

“That’s why they’re called slot canyons, because they’re narrow. We’ll fit.”

Okay, maybe she’d bitten off more than she could chew, so to speak, but she wasn’t going to tell him she had doubts. He led the way, climbing the rocks like stepping-stones. The higher he climbed, the more she realized the slope was not as steep as she’d first thought, and indeed, the rocks widened into a narrow canyon she hadn’t discerned from the angle at the bottom.

“You okay?” he asked, glancing back.

“The view is certainly great.” His butt in those snug hiking shorts.

“Watch the rocks, not my ass,” he scolded, but she recognized the glint in his eye.

The air was fresh, clean, and she’d warmed up, with both the exertion and her dirty thoughts. The rock path, if you could call it that, zigged and zagged, always up, until suddenly Royce disappeared from view.

“Hey, where’d you go?” she called, her pulse racing.

“I’m here.” His voice floated down from above. She made it up the last rock, only to realize that the fissure they’d been climbing through now plunged down. Royce crouched near the head of a wooden ladder. “We have to get down there.” He pointed to the bottom of another crevice, wide enough to stand in, but with the canyon walls rising on both sides. “You don’t have claustrophobia, do you?”

She snorted. “Great time to ask.” She stared down the six-foot ladder to the dusty bottom. “Where does it go?” She couldn’t see how they’d get out once they climbed down.

“These mountains are riddled with wide fissures in the rock. There’s ladders to the different levels, but eventually the narrow slot canyons lead up and out into the open. Then we hike to the ridge overlooking the Salton Sea.”

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“Have you been here before?”

“A hiking buddy of mine told me about the trail. It’s well marked. We won’t get lost.” He held out the map, pointing to a dotted line across the topography.

“I’m not sure I’m in good enough shape to do this,” she admitted. She was a gym rat. Climbing rocks was a whole different thing. He stroked her cheek. “You’ll do fine. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Hah, he said he hadn’t hiked this trail, so how did he know? But hell, she was no pussy. “All right.”

“I’ll go first, then hold the ladder for you.” He scrambled down it like a monkey, then positioned the ladder tightly to the rock wall. “Your turn.”

With his solid presence, it was easy. She climbed down practically into his arms. He nuzzled her hair. “Now, that was a view.”

She elbowed him. “No funny business while we’re hiking.” But she was wet just from the warmth of his breath against her. They were in the small cavern now, with only one way to go. Winding between the rocks, they turned a corner and found another ladder, this one heading up. A sliver of sky reached down between the rock walls, which were only about three feet apart. What she’d thought was a cavern was actually the bottom of yet another narrow canyon.

“You first. I’ll hold the ladder,” Royce said.

“You just want to look at my butt.”

He put a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “I’m being chivalrous.”

He set a booted foot on the bottom step and trailed a hand along her hip, her thigh, her calf, as she climbed. When she glanced back down to see him eyeing her ass, there was indeed a dark, sexy glint in his gaze. She shook her finger, and his wicked smile heated her.

At the top was another short, narrow plateau, another ladder at the end. From that vantage point, the slice of sky at the top was bright, a puffy white cloud floating over. The silence was soothing. She lived with noise, even in the flat, the sound of traffic from the street below, people, the creak of the old apartment building. She lived, breathed, walked city life. This was unique.

“Wow, this is cool,” she called down.

“Thought you’d like it.”

The air wasn’t as cold as she’d have thought it would be without being in full sunlight. For a first hike, she was doing well, too. Granted, they were only half 204

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an hour into it, but she set a good pace, trailing her fingers along the rock on either side. The canyon was narrow, and in spots, as the path twisted and turned, she had to sidle through, her pack brushing the wall. She glanced back. “Awesome.” Nature’s magic.

He reached out to run a hand down her hair. She’d worn it long, but tied in a ponytail to keep it out of the way.

Then she turned a corner in the rock, and sun streamed down into the narrows. “Oh my God.” The light dazzled her, as if the heavens had opened up and God was looking down.

In the streamers of sunlight lay another ladder. She grabbed a rung to steady herself and leaned back to gaze into the sky. The warmth on her, the light palpable, it seemed a moment in time. “Oh Royce,” she breathed. She recognized what he must feel on his hiking treks, the immensity of it. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

“Neither have I.” Just inside the circle of light, he stared at her, not the sky or the sun. Then he was on her, backing her up against the ladder, taking her with a deep, breath-stealing kiss.

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5

SHE TASTED LIKE SUNLIGHT, HER SKIN WARMING EVEN AS THEY stood in the shaft of morning rays. Moaning, she fisted her hands in his Windbreaker and held him closer. God, he could never have enough of her, her scent fresh and sweet in his nostrils, the faint perfume of her sexual musk rising. He drove his tongue deep, tasted her, devoured her. Her breasts filled his hands, her nipples taut against his palms even through the layers of clothing. Royce pushed her to the ladder, braced it with his hands as he rubbed his cock hard against her. She grabbed his hair, consumed his mouth with an equal fervor.

He couldn’t say what drove him over the edge, watching the sway of her ass, the fall of sunlight on her blonde hair, or the fact that she’d stepped into his world without hesitation. Manicured nails, gym workouts, spa treatments—the city girl she’d become had willingly ventured into his country. He wanted her here, now, in the bright outdoors. “Fuck me, baby,” he murmured against her lips.

She dropped a hand to the hard bulge of his cock, squeezed, then tugged on his zipper. Reaching for the plastic lock of her pack, he unsnapped it, catching the nylon and dropping it gently to the canyon floor.

“Turn around,” he demanded, a harsh rasp in his voice. “Hold on to the rung.”

He hadn’t planned this in particular, but with Isabel, he’d learned to be prepared for whenever and wherever the mood for sex struck her. This time it was all his doing, his need.

“Say you want me to fuck you.” He hadn’t gotten over the word, hadn’t managed to turn it into making love. What they did was so much more than a mere fuck, but here, now, it was a primal word fitting the primeval place.

“I’ll die if you don’t fuck me, Royce. I want to remember it forever.”

He covered his cock in the latex, then yanked down her shorts and panties.

“Christ, you have a gorgeous ass.”