She's the One: COunting on Love, Book 1 (14 page)

He lifted his hand and she concentrated for three breaths before he started rubbing her hand.

He started on the pads of her fingers, working down each digit to the center of her palm.

“Yes, my mom has been into holistic healing, natural living, conservation, all of that for as long as I can remember. She’s always been one of the most peaceful, happiest people I know. We had a radio and books, but no television, no video games. She’s always gardened, made her own teas, medicines, and even beauty products.”

“Beauty products?” Amanda asked, but it felt like a lot of work to form a question. She wanted to just lie there and let Ryan continue rubbing her and talking in that low, soothing voice.

“Yeah, she makes face masks, hair conditioners, lotions, creams, anything. Some of them turn out great, some don’t. She’s always trying new things.”

Amanda could hear the affection in his voice and thought she’d really like to look at his face. But lifting her eyelids seemed to be too much of an effort.

Ryan was rubbing his thumb over the heel of her hand, working into the palm, and she felt tingles of pleasure zinging through her body.

“She also loves to travel. We lived in twelve different states while I was growing up—a new one each year.”

“What? Wow, that’s a lot of moving.”

“We had this old trailer that we lived in. We’d hook it up to the back of the truck and haul it to a new place when we were ready to go.”

“You never stayed anywhere more than a year?”

“When I hit twelve years old, we stayed. Here in Nebraska. But now she’s back to moving around again.”

“What about your dad?”

Ryan’s massage had moved up to her forearm and he was working his way past her elbow.

“My dad was around until I was three. Then it was Hank until I was nine. Then she met Larry here and he was with us until I graduated.”

Amanda forced her eyes open for this. Ryan had finished with her left arm and moved around to her other side and started the heavenly massage over again. “What happened to these guys?”

“They agreed to part ways.”

“They got divorced?”

He shook his head with a small smile. “They were never married to start with. Even Dad. My mom believes that not only can you love many different people in your life, but you should. She was truly in love with all three of them. And now she’s with Neil and she loves him too. But all the guys know going in—and agree—that there will be a time when things are over and they’ll all part as friends.”

Amanda studied Ryan’s face. He didn’t seem upset or sad. He seemed to be completely accepting of it and content with it.

“So they stayed friends?”

“Yes, we still hear from them all.”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah, we stay in touch. I’ve been out to visit him in Arizona and he’s been back here a couple of times.”

“And that’s okay with you? That these guys have walked in and out of your life? That it’s never been anything lasting?”

Ryan looked into her eyes and rubbed his thumb in tantalizing circles over her wrist. “It’s okay with me. I’m completely okay. All of those men were good to me and my mom, loved us, taught me things. Then things changed for one or both and they parted ways. It seems healthy to me, actually. There are so many people living in toxic situations that they should get away from, or if one does leave, there’s so much anger and animosity. Everyone suffers so much.”

She couldn’t argue with that. “But it doesn’t sound like any of these situations or relationships were ever toxic. Why did they have to end?”

“They ended before they got toxic. If things got complicated or the feelings changed on one side or the other or the goals and plans didn’t match up anymore or someone just wanted to try something new or do something else, they agreed it was better to let go.”

Amanda turned her head so she was looking up at the ceiling instead. Ryan seemed fine. Who was she to judge the strange way of life—or of relationships at least? It didn’t seem like anyone was unhappy in his life.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of Ryan’s hands on her. He and his past and his mother were certainly nothing she needed to think or worry about. They were fine. She loved when people were fine.

She was soon tingling all over and wanted his hands
all
over, yet she also felt like her bones had melted and her muscles would never again be able to move her.

He calmed her and excited her at the same time. Weird.

He moved to kneel behind her head and set his hands on her shoulders. He began kneading into the muscles that seemed perpetually tight. She let the music drift over her, the feeling of heat and perfect pressure seep into her muscles, and the scent of lavender from somewhere fill her senses.

“Turn over.” His low, husky voice made goose bumps dance over her.

She did, of course, turn over. There was absolutely no reason in the world why she
wouldn’t
do that.

Ryan continued running his hands over her shoulders, then over her shoulder blades and the muscles on either side of her spine. She wanted to purr.

“There’s something else my mom promotes as a way to release stress and get in touch with your inner peace,” he said softly.

She knew exactly where this was going, but she said, “Oh, really? What’s that?” anyway.

“Orgasm.”

Her entire body clenched. “How did I know you were going to say sex?”

His big hands pressed and stroked, working in the curve of her low back above her buttocks. Then he took a cheek in each hand, pressing his thumbs into the muscles and eliciting a soft moan from her. His touch was stimulating and relaxing at the same time. How did he do that?

“I didn’t say ‘sex’,” he said, cupping her buttocks again, then stroking up to her midback, then back down to her midthigh. “I said ‘orgasm’.”

“But…”

“There’s a difference,” he said. “Sex is about two people. Good sex means you focus on the other person and tune into them. Orgasm is about you. You and your body.”

She was thinking that he might get her to orgasm by just talking about it.

“My mom used to teach classes about it. And she had a hundred books on the topic of sex and health and healing. And she had a blog.”

“Your mom had a blog about orgasms?” Amanda asked as he focused on a particularly tender knot under her right shoulder blade.

He chuckled and her toes nearly curled from the sound. “Among other things. Her blog was about the power of sex and how it affects the body.”

“It’s a little strange that you know a lot about sex because of your mother.”

He chuckled again and switched to the muscle in the back of her left thigh. “I accidentally learned most of it. My mom had seminars three times a week at our house. She’d bring a group of women in and they’d talk about sexual issues they were having and so on. I was about thirteen, so…this was interesting eavesdropping for me.”

Amanda laughed and then immediately sighed as he worked down to her calf.

“And, of course, she’d be working on the blog sometimes on her laptop when I was around. She often had me proofread it.”

“That’s…”

“My mom,” he said before she could complete the thought. “She’s very free-thinking, very open about everything. I knew about penises and vaginas when I was learning what a nose and elbow were. I knew how babies were really made in time to inform my entire first grade class. I also knew about birth control. I overheard my mother giving my favorite babysitter, Trina, a lecture about condoms and safe sex when she found Trina and her boyfriend having sex in our kitchen while I was supposed to be in bed. I had a lot of questions after that.”

“All of which your mom answered?”

“Yep.”

Amanda wished she could see his face, but she could tell from his voice that he was still…fine. Very fine. He was very matter-of-fact, very comfortable with all of it.

“And I know that it seems strange,” he went on. “But I was one of the last of my friends to have sex in high school. Because I knew, from Mom, that sex was a big deal. But it was an awesome deal. Something to treat with care. I’ve always taken very good care of the women I’m lucky enough to be with.”

Amanda felt her breath catch. She’d been good about focusing on the pattern, the deep, long, calming breaths. But now she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t calm. She was excited. She was hot and tingly. And there was no way she could breathe easily with Ryan’s hands all over her and his voice rough and low…

She turned to her back. Ryan’s hands paused for a moment. Then his gaze met hers and his hands continued stroking, up and down the front of her thighs.

“So this orgasm thing,” she said.

His pupils dilated and she smiled.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have told me how much you know about sex,” she said, absorbing the heat and pressure from his hands so she could relive it later. “My expectations are really high now.”

He grinned a cocky, tempting, hot grin. “Good. You should always have high expectations for orgasms and sex and how men treat you.” His hands stroked higher to the front button of her capris. He unsnapped, unzipped and pulled them over her hips, down her legs and past her feet, then tossed them to the side, watching her the entire time. “Maybe I should put my mouth where my mouth is.”

He leaned in, braced a hand on either side of her hips and then lowered himself like he was doing a push-up until his lips met the sensitive skin right below her belly button. Amanda felt her skin quiver and spirals of heat swirl out from that spot, warming her stomach and into her pelvis.

Ryan kissed her hip bone, then the spot where her hip flexed. He added a little flick of his tongue there and Amanda gasped.

He lifted a hand and reached down for her ankle, stroking his flat palm up the back of her calf to the dip behind her knee. He bent her leg and placed her foot flat on the floor. “I want you to think about all of your tension,” he said calmly, kissing her inner thigh, keeping her knee bent. “Gather all the tension into your center, the bad tension and the good.” He kissed the inside of her bent knee, running his hand up her leg again. “Think about the bad tension—all the frustrations, all the worries, all the things you want to control, but can’t.”

She tried to focus but he had now switched to her other leg, stroking and kissing, rubbing the arch of her foot—which made her want to sob with pleasure—then kissing her inner thigh where her panties crossed over her leg—which did make her moan his name.

“And combine it with the good tension,” he went on, his voice a little rougher. “Mix the tension that’s gathering here—” He laid his hand on her lower stomach. “And here.” He ran his hand lower over the front of the pale-blue silk bikini panties she wore, pressing into her mound and making her ache. “And here.” He ran his thumb over the silk covering her clit and she gasped, then lifted her hips, wanting to be closer, knowing that he was the only one who could release the pressure building.

When her butt lifted off the mat, he whisked her panties away.

He didn’t move or speak for several seconds, and Amanda became more and more aware that he was fully clothed.
She
still had her shirt and bra on for that matter. But she was completely naked from the waist down. Exposed. At his mercy.

She started to wiggle, but Ryan clamped a big hand on each hip. “I, um…” He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’m really trying to make this all about you.”

She lifted herself up on her elbows. He was staring at her. His cheeks were flushed and he was breathing raggedly.

“I’m the one half-naked. I’d say it’s pretty much about me at this point.”

He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Babe, if you don’t believe that being here, being allowed to see you like this, isn’t about
me
, you don’t know anything.”

He did look pretty happy. “Just looking is that good?”

His gaze went back to the wet heat between her legs. “Oh, yeah.”

She felt her whole body getting warmer. “Is it possible for you to give me an orgasm just by looking?” she asked, letting one of her bent knees fall further out to the side.

Ryan muttered a curse, then said, “I don’t think so.”

“Then get to work.”

Chapter Five

His gaze flew to hers again, clearly surprised and very turned on. “Making you scream is going to be so fun.”

She grinned. “I’m not really a screamer.”

“You will be.”

She started to reply to that, but he let her other leg fall open as well and then ran the tip of one finger over her clit.

One finger. Just one. And she was halfway there.

She let her upper body fall back onto the mat, gripping the edges of it in both hands.

“Good and bad tension,” he reminded her. “So that when you come undone, it
all
leaves you. Your release includes
all
the tension, leaving only contentment and positive energy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just keep going.” Whatever. Whatever he wanted, whatever she needed to do—she’d do it as long as he kept moving his finger like that.

He did.