Chapter 18

18

T he past three weeks had proven the happiest of Emerson's life.

Because she had spent every day with Ry.

He had taken her to Lost Creek Lake again on two occasions, teaching her the basics of swimming. She'd never even owned a swimsuit and had to borrow one from Finley. She found swimming to be liberating and caught on quickly. Although she would need more practice, Emerson knew if she ever accidentally fell in the water, she could prevent herself from drowning now.

Another thing Ry had taught her was how to country and western dance. He enjoyed music, and Dax had suggested a double date to the Renegade Roadhouse, a dance hall north of Boerne. When she admitted to Ry that she didn't know how to dance, he'd given her a lesson before their night out so she'd be comfortable when they took to the dance floor. While Emerson had always thought herself to be clumsy, Ry steered her about the dance floor with ease, and she felt as if she danced on air when in his arms.

Ivy had taught Dax how to dance, and they both praised her for how quickly she'd caught on.

The best times, though, had been spent together in the event center's large kitchen. Ry was eager to combine his smoked meats with her breads, and the two of them, blending their knowledge and skills, concocted some delicious dishes. They specifically worked on appetizers and came up with several they thought would be good to serve wedding guests, along with three entrees which would help round out the main course offerings.

They had asked their friends to come to the event center for Wednesday night dinner, where they had everyone sample all their new creations. The group had been astonished at the blending of their specialties, and Harper was eager to add all the apps to the catering menu available to brides.

Ry had also made a huge decision, which had streamlined everything. The additional two smokers Shy had bought when Harper had opened Weddings with Hart had been located at Blackwood BBQ. Ry had told his father with the large volume of business they were doing, it didn't make sense to leave the smokers at the restaurant and transport the smoked meats each time. He'd gotten permission from Harper to locate the smokers at the rear of the event center and convinced Shy to move them to the winery.

At first, Shy had protested, but Ry was a persuasive man. Once the smokers had been relocated, he invited his father to work the next wedding at the winery, and Shy couldn't believe how easily the night unfolded. Ry still transported the sides from the restaurant, but he had told Emerson he felt comfortable making those himself and would most likely take that over, too, doing those on site in the event center's kitchen. The wrap party for Wolf and Ana's new film was tomorrow night, where many of their new apps and dishes would be served. She knew the party would go off without a hitch because of Ry's new setup.

Not only had she and Ry grown closer since they were a couple, but Emerson believed it was time to take their relationship to the next step physically. She was going to hit Ry up with that today and hoped he would agree.

She arrived at Lost Creek Vineyards and received a text from Harper, asking if she could stop by the kitchen and finalize plans for tomorrow night's party. Emerson texted back that Ry would be here any minute, so Harper could come at her convenience. Harper said she would be there in a few minutes.

Once all three of them were there, they went over the plan.

"I'm glad we decided to go with stations," Harper said. "Ana was pleased with that suggestion. She said it would give the party a more festive atmosphere if people could move freely around the space. Since no wedding will occur until Friday, I'm having my staff strike the area where ceremonies take place. That'll be opened up for dancing. I plan to have Dax move his band to that side of the hall."

They looked at Harper's diagram for where each food station would be located, as well as the bars which would be set up at three different spots, identifying what would be served at each place.

"I think we've covered everything," Harper told them. "It will just be getting the food out. I've hired some extra help to man all the stations available."

Ry spoke up. "We can help work those if you need us to."

"No, you're catering the entire event, and Wolf and Ana want you to come and enjoy the party once you have all the food out. Thanks for the offer, though, Ry."

Harper left, and Ry helped Emerson with two of the desserts she would be serving for the party, a strawberry cheesecake bite and tiny blueberry chiffon pies.

"Are you just helping me because you want to sample everything?" she teasingly called over her shoulder.

He came behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, nibbling on her neck. "Well, it is an advantage to having a girlfriend who's a baker. I'm going to have to get Dax to start running farther each morning to make sure I keep off any extra weight."

"You look as if you're hewn from stone, Ry Blackwood," she responded. "I don't think a cheesecake bite or two is going to make a difference."

He turned her in his arms, kissing her deeply.

"So, you like my body?"

"I love your body— and would like to see more of it," she said, flirting with him.

A slow smile spread across his handsome face. "Then I think it's about time you did."

Her heart sped up. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

He kissed her again, hard and fast. Breaking the kiss, his gaze met hers.

"I'm dying to make love to you, Emerson Frost."

Her cheeks warmed. "I'm ready for that to happen, Ry Blackwood."

"Then let's finish up all we need to here," he said huskily. "Then we can decide your place— or mine."

Last week, Ry had moved into the apartment above Java Junction, where Dax had lived before he and Ivy got married and moved into a house they'd purchased. The space had been empty, and Ry had told Dax he was ready to move out from his parents' house and into it. Shelly Blackwood had protested, but her son had held firm, saying he would stop by the diner frequently, as well as expect weekly dinner invitations from her.

They finished up with the pies and bites and worked on the chocolate tacos after that. All those items would be kept cold in the massive refrigerator. She would bake the honeybee cupcakes tomorrow and ice them so those would be fresh. Ry had gone in and out, putting items on the smoker and nursing things along.

By now, it was three in the afternoon. He said, "Would you like to go to your house or my apartment?"

"Mine," Emerson told him, thinking she might be more comfortable in familiar surroundings.

"Then I'll meet you there in an hour," he said, walking her to her car and kissing her goodbye.

Emerson had no idea what he would be doing during the next hour, and she certainly had no idea what she should do. She a mix of anticipation and nerves. More than anything, she wanted to be with this man.

And not disappoint him.

That was her greatest fear. She would never ask Ry about any of his previous partners, but she knew a man with his looks and body had plenty of experience. She wanted to satisfy him but figured it would be inevitable when she didn't. Still, Emerson had proven to be a fast learner and hoped she would learn how to please him quickly.

Reaching home, she didn't know whether to turn down the bed or not and finally decided she would. She paced the house anxiously, thinking about movies she had watched where couples made love. One that came to mind was Pretty Woman , where Richard Gere played the piano and had his way with Julia Roberts atop the instrument. She might not have a piano, but she was ready to be open to whatever Ry suggested.

He arrived bearing two large canvas bags, saying as he walked to the kitchen, "I stopped by the diner to get us something to eat because all we've done is sample bits and pieces of sweets all day."

His gaze pinned hers. "But dinner is for later. I'm hungry for you now."

He placed the bags down, pulling Emerson into his arms for a delicious kiss that made her toes curl.

Ry released her and emptied the first bag, placing the containers into the fridge. From the other bag, he pulled a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers.

Handing them to her, he said, "I haven't really given you anything, but you're going to start receiving flowers from me every week," he promised. "You're the kind of women who would appreciate flowers."

Emerson's eyes misted with tears. "No one has ever given me flowers, Ry. Thank you."

She found a flower vase Finley had left behind and filled it with water, trimming the stems and placing the flowers into the vase, imitating what her former roommate had done whenever she had received flowers from a guy.

Ry laced his fingers through hers and led her to her bedroom.

He looked deeply into her eyes. "I know you must be feeling a myriad of emotions. I know I am." He framed her face with his long fingers and kissed her softly. "We're going to take our time, okay?"

"I don't want to disappoint you," she said, her voice breaking, sharing her biggest fear with him.

"I don't want to disappoint you ."

Emerson thought that was impossible. Then she decided she was in expert hands and would simply follow Ry's lead.

His hands pushed into her hair, his mouth covering hers, causing immediate tingles to rush through her. She gripped his shoulders and kissed him, their tongues warring with one another. That passion she always felt when he kissed her was set ablaze, and her heart slammed against her ribs.

They kissed for several minutes, though, truthfully, Emerson lost track of time. All she knew was that she wanted to be close to Ry. His clean, masculine scent invaded her senses, causing her head to spin. He broke the kiss, both of them struggling to breathe, as his lips trailed along her jaw. Then he moved to where her pulse pounded and nipped at her throat.

Hot desire shot through her.

"Don't think," he said, nuzzling her throat. "Just feel."

Ry's fingers felt hot against her skin as he undid the first button of her blouse. They slid slightly lower, and a second button came undone. Her skin heated as his lips followed his fingers, kissing their way down her front. He spread the shirt open, slipping it from her shoulders, dropping it to the floor as his lips moved along the slope of her shoulder, scalding it.

Then his palm went flat against her back, pressing her to him, as his other hand unclasped her bra. She felt it loosen as his teeth grazed her shoulder, pulling down first one strap and then the other. He removed it, and the bra joined her shirt on the floor.

His blues eyes darkened as he moved his hands to cup her full breasts. "I love your curves."

Slowly, his thumbs brushed back and forth against her nipples, which stood erect, calling out for his attention. A very good kind of chill rippled through her, and her lower body began throbbing in need.

Ry caressed her breasts, his fingers like flames that licked at them. Then his mouth was on one, taking it in, sucking hard, causing her to whimper. He laved and sucked, his tongue teasing the nipple until Emerson thought she might go mad. Then he moved to the other breast, repeating the same actions. She thought she might go up in flames.

His hands slipped to her bottom, squeezing it, stroking it, making the fire within her burn brighter. His mouth covered hers, greedy in need, taking and taking and taking as she gave everything she had. Boldly, she began unbuttoning his shirt, the backs of her fingers slipping down his rock-hard chest. When she reached the end, she parted his shirt and placed her palms flat against his abs, moving them along the hard planes. She played with his nipples, causing him to suck in a quick breath, hearing his growl, feeling her feminine power for the first time.

And liking it.

She had enjoyed his mouth on her breasts and thought it might be the same for him, so Emerson licked the tip of her tongue against his nipple. Again, another groan— and another smile from her. She circled it with her tongue, teasing him, knowing his heart raced as quickly as hers did.

Ry's fingers made quick work of her capris, peeling them from her. He dipped his fingers into the top of her panties, pulling them down slowly, helping her to step from them.

"Beautiful," he murmured, urging her back a few steps.

Her legs touched the bed, and he maneuvered her until she sat. He moved between her legs, his eyes now almost black. Placing his palm against her belly, he nudged her until she fell back onto the bed. Then he took her knees and moved them further apart. She had no idea what was coming, only that the blood pounded so loudly in her ears that she didn't know if she would hear him if he spoke.

He dragged the pad of his thumb slowly down her slit. Desire enveloped her in a hot rush. He slid it back the other way.

She raised her head. "I might faint," she told him.

"No, you won't," he growled. "You're going to enjoy every minute of this."

He pushed a finger inside her, and she nearly came off the bed.

"Easy," he said, placing one palm against her belly, gently holding her in place.

Then he began caressing her with that finger, bringing sweet sensations. A second finger joined the first as he stroked her deeply. She began writhing on the bed, her breath coming in short spurts as she whimpered with each touch.

"Oh, you're slick now," he said. "So sensitive."

She swallowed. "I feel… like something is starting to build inside me."

"That's good," he said, and she heard the smile in his voice. "Whatever you feel, just go with. Let it unfold naturally."

"Okay," she said, unsure of everything— but him.

His fingers continued working their magic, and then he pulled them from her. Emerson started to protest. Until he moved even closer. She knew what he did next was going to spark the orgasm rising inside her.

When he slipped his tongue inside her, she gasped aloud. "What are you doing, Ry Blackwood?"

He stopped and raised his head. "I'm making you mine," he said fiercely.

His tongue went inside her again, and it was moving as his fingers had, the strokes long and deep. The urgency within her caught fire and then exploded. She came in a violent rush, crying out his name. Moving. Crying. The waves of pleasure nearly drowned her. Then it slowed. Finally ceased.

Ry moved up until he lay atop her, kissing her deeply. He tasted different, and she realized he tasted of her. The thought was erotic.

He pushed away from the bed and sat on it, removing his boots and socks. She sat up, wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his back, breathing him in.

"Gotta stand," he told her, and she let her arms fall away as he undid his jeans and undressed the rest of the way.

Her eyes widened as she looked at him. Broad shoulders. Narrow hips. Flat belly. And a glorious eight-pack that called out to her. Emerson's fingers reached out, dancing lightly, watching with fascination as the muscles bunched and moved.

He drew in a quick breath. "You're playing with fire, Miss Frost," he warned teasingly.

"Something tells me that I'm going to like being burned, Mr. Blackwood."

Roaring with laughter, he fell onto the mattress, gathering her in his arms, kissing the life out of her. His hands roamed her body, and she returned the favor. His tongue explored her, even as she had her taste of him. Limbs and tongues tangled. Time ceased to exist.

Then he pulled away, leaning down and grasping his jeans, returning with a small foil packet. He tore it open, sheathing himself. He hovered over her, looking like a Greek god, and Emerson eagerly anticipated this final stage of lovemaking.

His fingers slipped inside her, stroking her. "You're definitely ready for me. At least your body is." He hesitated. "Is the rest of you?"

She nodded, holding out her arms.

He came to her, his mouth covering hers even as his body did the same. She felt him against her, and then he pushed inside in one, quick movement.

"Just get used to me a moment," he whispered against her ear.

She felt the fullness of him— and the sudden urge to move. She gave in to it.

"Ah. Are you ready to rock and roll?" he teased.

"Only with you," she said honestly.

Ry withdrew and pushed into her again. Just like when he taught her to dance, Emerson caught his rhythm, and soon they were engrossed in the dance of love. She felt that same quickening inside her again as his fingers came between them and teased the nub inside her. She grew breathless. Lightheaded. Then the orgasm enveloped her again as he cried out, pumping into her. She called his name and hung on for dear life as the bed moved.

They both stilled, Ry collapsing atop her a moment. She clung to him, never wanting to let go. He rolled to his side, bringing her along, and she snuggled against him, their bodies still intimately joined.

Grinning at her, he said, "I think you're better at this than dancing. And you're a helluva dancer," he added huskily.

"That was incredible," she said, on a natural high. "No wonder people want to do this all the time."

"We'll have to make it a regular part of our routine."

Emerson bit her lip. "Was I… was it… okay for you?"

His sunny smiled warmed her. "It was amazing. You are amazing. I know this isn't exactly what you want to hear, but I've done this more than a few times." Ry paused. "And this is the best that it's ever been for me."

Doubt filled her. "You're just saying that to be nice."

"No," he said firmly. "I'm not. I've never really taken the time to get to know other lovers the way I have you, Emerson. Knowing you— having the feelings I do for you —that's what made the difference."

She was afraid to ask what those feelings might be because she was finally admitting to herself what she'd known for a while now.

She was in love with Ry Blackwood.