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
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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.”
“Touch me, Royce.”
She gasped as he slid his hand between her legs and forward to the button of her clit. “Fuck, you’re wet, baby.”
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“I’ve been wet since we started hiking.”
He rubbed his cock between her legs, along her slick pussy, using the natural lube, teasing her at the same time.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, Royce,” she chanted, wriggling her ass, widening her stance.
He plunged home, and she cried out, her voice rising along the canyon walls. The sun between the narrow canyon walls beat on him, blinded him. He drenched himself in her.
“Hard and fast. Please,” she begged, pushing back on him, panting. He held her hips, she clung to the ladder, and he took her all the way, thrusting deep. Her body milked him, contracting, working. No woman had ever felt to him the way she did, smooth, sweet silk wrapped tight around him.
“Work your clit, baby.”
He loved watching her masturbate. Even when he wasn’t touching her, when she was laid out on the bed for him, legs wide. He loved the sounds she made, the way her body undulated between his touch, her touch. Her fingers slipped over him as he plunged, caressed his balls, then back up to her clit. She had no inhibitions, no limits. He hated and loved it at the same time.
“Royce, oh God, Royce.” He heard the rise in her voice, felt the squeeze of her pussy around him, the puff of her breath, all her little signals. She was close, so close.
In the distance, somewhere behind them, a woman’s laugh echoed up through the narrows.
“Don’t stop,” she said, hearing it, too.
Somehow, impossibly, his cock got harder; his heart beat faster. Another voice joined the first, male, the two slightly closer now.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she chanted, caught up in the need. His breath sawed. A drop of sweat fell into his eye. The sound of the voices and her pussy seemed to become one, and he needed it—fuck, he wanted it. The thought of the strangers coming upon them, seeing, watching. He shouted as her body clamped around him in orgasm, shooting him to climax, to the stars, to the sun so high above them.
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Isabel’s legs still felt wobbly, her heart pounded, her skin was flushed, and the voices were close, only three or four turns behind them, adult voices, thankfully, since she wasn’t into giving kids an early education. Breathless and quaking with orgasmic aftermath, she snapped on the pack.
Royce grabbed her chin for a hard kiss. “Fuck, that was hot,” he whispered, his gray eyes glittering like sterling. “Now, get your pretty little ass up the ladder.”
She laughed. “Don’t you want to see them?”
“I like the idea of keeping just ahead of them while they’re dying to catch up and see who was making all that noise.” He didn’t seem to care that he’d shouted for all to hear.
“You’re bad.” She started climbing. She loved his attitude. Over the months they’d been together, he’d stepped beyond vanilla, taken delight in greater risks. With this ladder, the narrow canyon walls gave way to open sky and softer, wider slopes covered with desert vegetation. Her body buzzing with all that sexual energy, she reached a fast clip, following the winding path until they hit another stone arrow like the one in the main canyon below. Laughter carried to them again as Royce consulted the map.
“Hurry,” she whispered, laughing, “or they’ll catch us.”
“Both trails head to the ridge. That way”—the way of the arrow—“is longer but appears to be less steep, more switchbacks. This way”—which seemed to be a lot more climbing rocks than mere hiking—“is shorter, but harder.”
She put her hand to his cock, squeezed, then grinned as he flexed in her palm. “The harder, the better.”
By the end of the hike, Isabel wanted to take that back. Her muscles ached, the bottoms of her feet were tender, she had blisters, and she’d broken three nails scrambling over rocks. But by God, she’d made it. The five miles and the magnificent view of the Salton Sea from the ridge were worth every ache and pain, especially with the way Royce had taken her on the ladder, the voices growing closer, closer. It had been short and sweet, hard and fast, and oh so amazingly sexy.
“So, honey,” she said sweetly, taking his arm in hers as they approached the car, “are you ready for your massage?”
She had such a delicious surprise in store for him. After what he’d given her, he deserved it.
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HE’D HAD MASSAGES BEFORE, ESPECIALLY AFTER HE’D WORKED OUT or hiked too hard, or taken a tumble during a soccer game. This wasn’t a massage; it was an event, complete with a tray of fruit and champagne. They were shown to an anteroom, told to undress and pull on the fluffy robes provided.
“His
and hers.” He raised a brow.
“Don’t worry.” She laughed. “I’ve asked for a woman to massage you, not a man.”
“Thank God.” Though he wasn’t a homophobe.
They relaxed in comfortable chairs, enjoyed the fruit and sparkling refreshment. Then she rose. “Come on, you’re going to love this.”
The room she pulled him into was tiled, with soft music playing, dim lighting, a light floral scent misting through the cubicle. A glass door to the left led to a wooden sauna room for after the massages.
“Take off your robe,” she directed.
He hung it on the hook she indicated. Christ, he was already hard.
“Now lay on your stomach.” She patted a long massage table. When he was prone on his belly, she laid a warm towel over him, covering his body from the small of his back to the tops of his thighs. He wondered if she was actually going to be his masseuse until she climbed onto the table next to his, stretched out, and draped herself with a towel.
“Now enjoy,” she whispered, and pressed a buzzer next to her. “Close your eyes.”
She was the queen of setting and seduction. The music lulled him as his muscles relaxed and he succumbed to the champagne he’d imbibed. It had been a good hike, steep climbs that made his muscles scream. Then there’d been her, the memory of her pussy, her lips, her taste, the contraction of her orgasm pushing him, driving him. Christ, it had been so fucking hot. Hell, at least he was facedown so the masseuse wouldn’t notice the state of his cock. It was crazy, but he could swear he smelled the musky scent of Isabel’s come beneath the misting. He was vaguely aware of a door opening, then a woman’s voice. “Hello, Mr. Harmon. I’m Sheila. I’ll be taking care of you today.”
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