Rocky Mountain Hideaway (To Love Again Book 2) (5 page)

Tray could not tear his eyes away as Isabel’s small hand grasped the width of him and squeezed gently. Amazingly he could feel himself becoming even harder.

“Isabel,” he groaned, twining his hands in her hair and pulling her close. She was driving him mad. He wanted to kiss that mouth again. To suckle those breasts. Be damned with the bath and the candles and the music. He just wanted to throw her onto the bed and have his way with her.

Isabel released her grip on him and stepped slightly backwards. She taunted him, eyes teasing.

“Isabel,” he stepped forward reaching for her.

“Tray. This is important. Anticipation plays a major part in seducing a woman. You can’t just jump in the minute you’re ready.”

Right. He was here for a purpose. What a time to remind him, but she was right. If he kept doing things the way he’d always done them, he would keep getting the same results. Somehow with Isabel, he’d forgotten his problem. She made him feel that he did perform so much better. It already felt more sensual, more involved than with other partners.

“You’re right,” he agreed, his breathing ragged. “That’s why you’re in charge.”

Isabel cocked her head to the side and smiled in a way that he was sure would melt his heart. He was still reeling from the heat her hand had left as it circled his pulsing erection, like bands of fire. He felt connected and somehow cooled at the same time. “Then what’s next, Mrs. Robinson?”

“What’s next is that we enjoy this bath together.” She stepped over the side of the tubm slid into the foamy water and leaned back against the tub. “Jump in, farm boy.”

Tray surveyed the tub and realized she meant for him to jump in the other end. That seemed too far away from her. His body was screaming for release
now
. Although how would he learn anything if he didn’t allow himself to be taught. Isabel drew her knees to her chest as Tray stepped into the tub and settled himself in the other end. They sat toe to toe, each lost in the eyes of the other.

Tray leaned his head back against the coolness of the tub. Just as he felt he could handle this, Isabel stretched her legs out and rested them on his chest.

“Now comes the best part,” she sighed.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Isabel was pleased with the look on Tray’s face. This was more fun than she had imagined. He looked positively entranced.

“What could possibly be better than this?” he asked, his hands massaging her ankles that were resting against his chest.

“First, some wine.” Turning to her right, Isabel poured wine into the first goblet and passed it to Tray. As he leaned forward to take it, his fingers brushed hers causing her to jolt. She couldn’t remember ever being so excited, and never had she been so in control. That was somehow the sexiest thing of all right now, being the one to call the shots. Knowing Tray would do whatever she asked of him. Whatever she told him. She couldn’t imagine a more willing partner.

His chest glistened with wet and oil and she marveled at the firmness of his chest, the quiet strength of him. Without being beefy, he seemed strong enough to manage anything. She supposed that came from years on the farm, from the physical work. Strong sinewy muscle rippled through his arm as he reached for the glass.

Isabel poured for herself and settled back into the bubbles. “Cheers.” She lifted her glass in a toast, smiling at how tiny the glass looked in Tray’s large hand.

That she would be here, now, in this beautiful house, with this beautiful man. In a warm bath with a warm heart. This was the stuff that fantasies were made of. That was the thing to stay in touch with, she told herself. This was a fantasy. Something to play out so she could share things with her clients.

And in the meantime, she had an opportunity to help Tray. Although, he didn’t seem to need help. But at least he did want something from her, so she didn’t feel guilty. Didn’t feel that she was just taking what she needed to toss him away later like a used Kleenex when she was done. He would go his way and she would go hers, and they would both be better for having met. At least, that’s what she wanted to tell herself.

It had been so long since she’d been with someone that she was really fighting her feelings. She was so confused. She couldn’t separate her lustful feelings from the emotions that kept teasing around the edges. Her head knew that she was dressing up her fantasies in some love clothing just to appease herself, but she was a sex therapist. She shouldn’t need to do that. She was here for sex. Tray was here for sex. Why would she need to pretend it was anything else? She was a scientist. She was pragmatic. She was not a romantic.

Jenny would disagree, she knew. Jenny claimed Isabel was the biggest romantic she’d ever met. But Isabel had never had time for romance. Two small children, an emotionally distant husband, and a demanding career hadn’t left her much time - let alone enough energy - for romance. She’d longed all her life to have the time to do something like this. Had dreamed of it flipping through the photographs and ads in women’s magazines.

Since she’d been alone with the children, she could count on one hand the number of baths she’d had time for in the evening. It wasn’t that the girls hadn’t been old enough to fend for themselves for an hour, it was just that after taking care of her clients’ emotional needs at work all day, taking care of the needs of the office, the house and her children, she was exhausted. Taking care of her own needs had seemed like too much work.

Isabel could see now, that approach had been short sighted. If she’d taken time to nourish and nurture herself, she might’ve had more for everyone else. As it was, they’d left her dry and now she found she had nothing more to give. Which is probably how she found herself in the situation she was in with her clients. She still couldn’t believe that she’d become so out of touch with their needs. She’d worked so hard to build up her practice - prided herself on her ability to really make a difference in the lives of the people who trusted her to do so. She didn’t take their trust lightly. She knew her intervention could help them save a marriage, help them change their lives. Improve their lives.

Hindsight was twenty-twenty. She was here now. The light was going on. Having this time for herself, to be playful, to be a woman, was rejuvenating. She could already see the benefits that she could bring back to the office, back to her relationships.

She vowed that she would have more fun. She would start saying yes more often. Yes to the parties, yes to lunch, yes to whatever. Life was too short.

She caught Tray watching her, drinking her in with his amazing blue eyes. His black hair was slicked back against his head and the oil glistened off his shoulders and chest. He looked like a big puppet dropped into a child’s bathtub. It was hard to believe that he was just a boy; right now he looked all man.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he smiled.

“Hmmm, I was just thinking that it’s been a long time since I’ve had this much time to relax.”

“You work hard. You should relax. In fact, we can just rest…you don’t have to stay in your role.”

“Nuh-uh,” laughed Isabel. “You don’t get off that easy. See the thing is, this is part of what you needed to learn next.”

Tray looked at her quizzically.

“Sometimes it isn’t about getting horizontal as quickly as possible. Sometimes it’s just about spending some quiet time together, relaxing. Do you know the best way to arouse a woman?”

Isabel’s stomach tightened as Tray run his tongue around his lips suggestively. “Hmmm, let me think. Is it playing with her breasts?”

“No. But it doesn’t hurt.” A tingle ran through her at the thought.

“Is it kissing her neck?”

“Not exactly,” replied Isabel, remembering his kisses on her neck only a short while ago.

“Is it kissing her somewhere else?”

“That doesn’t hurt either,” laughed Isabel, heat surging through her as she imagined Tray kissing her there. “No, it comes before that.”

“A nice dinner, with candles in a nice restaurant?”

“You’re on the right track.” Isabel grabbed the wine bottle and filled the glass he was holding out.

“It starts before the sex, sometimes even before the date.” She had Tray’s total attention now, he was leaning forward hanging on her every word.

“This will come as a shock because not many men know this.” He was so gorgeous, intent on her every word.

“I promise, Isabel, if you give me the key, I won’t share it with any other man, at the risk of my death.”

Isabel chuckled. He was totally charming, this student of hers. He could probably sell a truck load of baseball bats to a football team. “It’s not that surprising, really, Tray. It’s knowing a woman’s mind. That’s the best way to seduce a woman.”

“Huh?”

“You surprise me, for a student of psychology. How could you not know that?”

“It’s that simple?” Tray’s mouth dropped open.

“It’s that simple. A woman wants to feel that someone knows her, understands her. Or at least wants to get to know her. The more interested you are in us - how we tick, what’s important to us - the more interested we become in you.” Isabel watched the message sink in as his baby blues lit up with a new piece of the puzzle.

“That makes perfect sense.” He sat bolt upright, causing water to wave down over Isabel and up the back of the tub, splashing over the side and putting out the candle on the ledge. “Ooops.”

Isabel laughed as she righted the candle. “It is simple.”

“No, really. It reinforces everything that I’ve been learning. Why couldn’t I have seen it for myself before? Women just want to be treated as people.”

“Exactly.”

“How can I expect to unlock a woman’s desires, if I can’t talk to her about her dreams?”

Isabel watched as he worked it out.

“If I can unlock a woman’s mind, then I can…” he trailed into silence.

“Then you can what?” If he could understand this at such an early age, he’d have a very successful life. It was the one thing she couldn’t get through to her couples. That they were the same. The myth about the differences between men and women was just that – myth. In some areas of their lives, men and women were exactly the same. At their core, they wanted the same things. To be loved, cherished, understood. To be treated like they mattered.

It crossed her mind that maybe Tray was getting more than he’d bargained for. He’d come to learn how to seduce a woman, but she wasn’t content to teach him a few mechanical tricks. What he needed to know to be successful with them was this truth.

“Ohmigosh, how could I have missed that? I’ve always seen women as exotic creatures that I have little in common with. We’re either buddies or I’m totally intimidated by them. I’ve always approached women I’m interested in as a mystery to unravel. No wonder I’ve had trouble making real connections.”

“And …” she prompted, waiting for the penny to drop.

Tray gazed just past Isabel’s shoulder, searching for the missing piece. His mouth dropped slightly and his eyes sprang back to Isabel’s. “That’s why the sex is never that great?”

Isabel grinned at her student.

“I mean, even if it’s sometimes technically okay, it never sizzles, and usually feels empty. I’ve expected the sex to give us a connection … I’ve been going about it backwards.”

Isabel smiled and raised her glass in a toast. “Very good, Watson. You’re a quick study.”

Tray pushed his hand through his wet locks, slicking the hair tight against his head. “I talk too much,” he smiled sheepishly. “I took your lesson in a totally different direction than you’d planned. You were ready to tell me what the next part was… so, what is the next part?”

Isabel rocked forward on her knees until her face was inches from his, locked eyes with his smoldering blue ones and planted a big kiss on his unsuspecting lips. “That was the next part, darlin’.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Tray let his eyes sweep slowly around the bedroom, taking it all in. Isabel had placed tiny tea light candles on every solid surface. The mirror on the dresser reflected back the light and an array of oils and lotions stood ready on the bedside table.

Sometime earlier, she’d folded the sheets down on the king size bed and brought in additional pillows from the other rooms. It reminded him of a scene in a sultan movie.

He was finding this harder all the time. He hadn’t expected to give Isabel a window on his soul, but she was so easy to talk to. He’d totally opened up in a way he never had with other women. And he knew what she was talking about, when she was talking about the mind connection. That’s what he was feeling with her. Maybe not last night at the club, although there was a spark of it there, but certainly this morning at her diningroom table. While they’d talked, he’d sensed some other connection, and a growing desire to get to know her. He’d denied it - to himself, and then to Isabel - when he’d promised that he could learn from her without getting emotionally involved. Now he felt like a love sick puppy even though he knew Isabel was right about infatuation and lust masquerading as love.