I wobble a little. I’ve been standing on my one good foot for too long, and the muscles in that leg are beginning to protest. I try to take some of the weight off my good foot, but the slight pressure on my twisted ankle makes me grab for the nearest support. That happens to be Asher’s arm and there’s no longer any doubt about his ability to carry me.
Holy hard muscles alert. This man is stacked.
He takes the midpoint of the rope and places it at the center of my waist.
“Here, hold this for me please.”
Before I realize what’s happening, he crouches before me, which places his face eye level with my private parts, right where all those delicious fantasies want his face to be. I bite my lower lip and stare up at the sky. There’s nothing to see except the amorphous haze of smoke. No moon. No stars. No nothing.
But there’s lots to hear. A dull roar. The popping of wood as the flames consume the dry tinder. The whistling of wind as it’s drawn into the blaze. I hear nothing else, except for my ragged breathing.
Asher’s hands work the rope. He wraps it around my back, crosses the ends and brings the rope back to center. His nose is inches from my belly. I hold the center of the rope while he ties an intricate knot. Then I practically levitate when he passes his hands between my legs, moving efficiently, brusquely, and practically touches my most intimate parts.
He avoids putting his hands on me, unnecessarily. Despite the intimate contact, he remains a consummate professional. Although, if he wanted to cop a feel, there would be nothing I could do to stop him.
But he doesn’t touch me that way. He does only what’s necessary to rig the Swiss Seat, but that damn rope drags between my legs as he draws it up to my back and I have to bite my lower lip because this is easily the most sensual experience I’ve ever experienced.
He makes quick work of the rope. I dare to look down and give a little gasp at the intricate harness he constructed around my legs and waist.
“You ready to ride me?” He presses on his knees and stands to his full height. We’re close, like if I take a deep breath, the tips of my nipples will drag against his chest.
“Um…” I can’t help but nibble at my lower lip. “Does that line work on all the girls, or just those who fall in a ravine in the middle of a forest fire?”
He gives a low, throaty chuckle. “Naw, my pick-up lines are much better than that.” He twists around and takes a knee. “Now bend over…”
I swear this man is going to be the death of me. He ties me in rope, then tells me to bend over? How is this not every woman’s fantasy?
“Wrap your arms around my neck, but not too tight. Once I have you secured, you won’t have to hold on at all.”
“I’ve never been tied up before.”
He laughs. “Do you like it?”
“Hmm,” I tease. “It’s a little scratchy.”
“We’ll use a different kind of rope later. Right now, do as you’re told. Wrap your arms around my neck and lean against my back. I need to secure you to my harness so we can get out of here.”
“And what about my legs? Do I wrap those around you too?”
“You’ll see.” He gives another low laugh. “How about you stop distracting me and let me work?”
He does something with the loose ends of rope, knotting them into the harness he wears. Without a word, he stands, and I give a little screech as my world tilts. I grab at his neck and he gives a choked sound. Then he peels my hands from around his throat.
“Seriously, you don’t have to hang on. In fact, it’ll make it much easier to breathe if you’re not crushing my windpipe.”
“Sorry.” Then I realize what he’s done with the rope.
My legs wrap around his hips, but not because I’m doing anything. He’s somehow rigged the Swiss Seat so it holds all my weight. I’m literally strapped to his body. I try it out and release his neck. My expectation is that I’ll tumble off his back, but I’m surprised how secure and steady I feel.
“I’m a backpack!”
“Oh, you’re much more than a backpack. How about we get out of here?”
I gesture down the ravine. “Home, James!”
His body stiffens. “James?”
“It’s a joke.”
“Hmm.”
“Mush!” I give