Chapter Seventeen
True to his word, Tanner cleaned up and returned a few minutes later for Oakley, piling her in the car and heading toward the private gym in town.
Oakley stepped through the doors, bracketed by Tanner and Spoon, her eyes wide, spying all the equipment, the floor-to-ceiling climbing wall, a true obstacle course, pool, and floor mats for wrestling or martial arts. All that could be easily seen from the main entrance area. Several doors led off the back and sides, probably containing other goodies for the dedicated athlete. It put her small community gym to shame. A few men worked out here and there, the low number probably owing to the time of day on a weekday, when most others would be working. But the ones that were there could pass for a professional athlete or model of the year in her book with their toned bodies, bulging muscles, and youthful appearance.
“Come on,” Spoon called over his shoulder, leading the way toward the climbing wall. After a few minutes of basic stretches and jogging in place to warm muscles, they turned their attention to the massive obstacle before them.
An attendant grabbed a safety harness as Spoon stepped up, helping him put it on and checking the latches. He did the same for Tanner. Both men toed the mat adjacent to the wall. On the count of three, they leaped, grasping for purchase as they scaled upward with ease, hand over hand with feet pushing off each small ledge.
Oakley stood at the base and watched in amazement.
The attendant stepped over, whistling low. “Damn.”
She agreed wholeheartedly. They ascended with fluid grace, speed, and agility, as if they’d spent half their lives on a circus trapeze. Gifted. The word described their amazing abilities when it came to superhuman feats.
Tanner descended first, landing solidly on his feet, his breathing a bit hard, but nothing like she expected from such exertion. He immediately pulled his harness off and dropped it on the mat. Spoon followed suit, unsnapped his harness, and handed it over to the attendant, who carefully wrapped it around Oakley.
She lifted her arms, watching while the young man fitted everything snug down to her smaller frame. He gave her a quick smile and nod before returning to his spot off the mat. Tanner strode over, tugging on the lines, checking each clasp himself before giving her a small nod. “You’re good to go.”
“Why didn’t you double-check the harness like this when you wore it?”
He grinned. “We don’t need a safety belt, wouldn’t wear it except for it being the gym’s policy.”
“Oh.” She could see his point. Anyone with the strength and power to float up the wall probably didn’t have much fear of falling off. Unlike her. She gawked, seeing endless notches and bulges for arm and footholds. Dang intimidating.
“One step and handhold at a time. The right shoes will make it easier. We’ll deal with that next time,” Tanner advised, escorting her to the starting point. “Don’t try to rush. Just focus on each movement. Next thing you know, you’ll be at the top.”
Uh-huh. He’s delusional too. Oakley took a deep breath, placed her foot on the first outcropping, grasped onto a ledge and started the sheer climb. Refusing to look anywhere but directly ahead or above, she concentrated on just getting one more level. Slowly but surely, she progressed, her arms burning from the novel strain.
Tanner called encouragement from below, advising a shift now and again, coaching her to the easier path when she veered to one side or another.
Her fingers, wet from sweat, slipped from a hold. She squealed, locking down with her secure hand and foot purchase as she gasped for air.
“You’re okay.”
She peeked down at him then realized that wasn’t such a good idea as her head spun with the height. Too bad she couldn’t defy gravity like they apparently could.
With a deep breath, she wiped her hand on her T-shirt, and tried the grasp once more, sighing in relief when it didn’t budge. A grunt later, she reached the top, out of breath, sweating like a goon, and unsure if her arms would ever be the same again. She wasn’t sure, but thought with all the times they had held her body weight, her arms might have elongated an inch or so. Too tired to try to reverse course, she opted for the easy way back to the mat, releasing the wall and letting the harness support her, while the winch lowered her down.
Tanner caught her as she landed. “You did great!”
Spoon removed the harness, throwing in his words of praise. “Wonderful job, especially for a first-timer.”
“I can’t feel my arms.”
Both men chuckled. “Don’t worry. Rehydrate, rest for a few, and they’ll come back.”
Spoon slapped a bottle of water in her hands before leading the way to the next station.
A long clothesline-looking device ran the length of the building, starting from a tall platform near the ceiling, then lowering at an angle, until it ended with large blue pads at the far end. A zip-line, they called it.
As she watched, a man zinged down the line, harness in place, while holding onto something resembling a trapeze bar. When he reached the end, he released the bar, landing on his rear before skidding to a stop.
She cringed at the thought. After last night’s sexual activities, a definite ache appeared between her thighs. It wasn’t bad, nothing more than typical discomforts any athlete would experience on a day-to-day basis. Until this morning. The second round, though remarkable and drool-worthy, left her with a decided soreness. Plunking down squarely on the area with that amount of force and speed sent a shudder down her spine. “No, thanks. You guys go ahead. I’ll pass on this one.”
Tanner arched an eyebrow, nudging her with his elbow. “Come on. It’s fun. Really.”
Spoon glanced from Tanner to her, a slow wicked smile cropping up on his face.
“I’m sure it is. All but the landing.”
“The landing is the easy part,” Tanner prodded, working hard to convince her.
The goon didn’t get it. A blowtorch blasted across her face. She threw up her hands in exasperation. “Tanner. I’m sore…down there. Landing on my butt will hurt.”
Tanner stared down at her in surprise, as if he’d never considered that possibility.
Spoon burst out laughing. “He’s slow on the uptake sometimes.”
Tanner snorted. Pulling her into his arms, he nuzzled her cheek, whispering in her ear, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think. Do you need to go home?”
She soaked up his attentions for a second before pushing back, plastering a smile on her face. “Nope. I’m fine. I just don’t want to take on the zip-line right now. So, you guys go play on this one and I’ll watch.”
Spoon grabbed Tanner by the upper arm then dragged him toward the tower. He said something Oakley couldn’t hear, but figured it pertained to her from Tanner’s wide smile and the way both men looked over their shoulders at her.
Her face heated all the more. Nothing like declaring intimate details in public and in front of a legion of men, no less.
Much to her chagrin and embarrassment, Tanner pampered her after that confession, watching her closely as if he expected her to crumple from the physical workout. He steered her away from anything he thought might aggravate her condition, standing her on the sidelines while he and Spoon tackled rope climbing and the obstacle course.
Oakley paused at the sparring mat, the men moving past her. “Hey. Aren’t you guys going to kung fu with me?” She gestured to the mat with a smile on her face.
Tanner shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
She blinked over at him. “Once again, I’m fine. I can do this.” When he didn’t respond, she turned her attention to his buddy. “Spoon?”
He stepped back, both hands in the air as if to surrender. “Oh, no. First time I lay a hand on you, Tanner will kick my ass.”
She snorted. “He will not.”
“Yes, he will,” Tanner said with a clipped tone, glaring at Spoon.
Men. Grumbling under her breath, she stuck her hands on her hips, gazing at Tanner. “Okay. Back to you. It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”
He rolled his eyes. “Exactly.”
His response confused her. The two times before, she landed flat on her back with Tanner kissing the breath out of her. Her eyes widened with understanding.
“You got it, minx. Sparring with you is foreplay, damn good foreplay.”
Spoon coughed loudly, covering a less than subtle bark of laughter. Tanner shot him a withering glance before turning back to Oakley. “I’m not running around this place with the hard-on from hell and I don’t think you want sex on the mat for all to see, especially with you already being sore. Thus, we skip it.” His eyes smoldered with intensity.
Her belly flopped over with his abrupt words. “Good idea,” she whispered, beating down the growing desire while averting her eyes. At this rate, she wouldn’t be able to face Spoon for the next decade without turning beet red.
The guys moved on, showing off for her and the sparse audience. Men gawked at their skills, showing appreciation with hollers and applause. Spoon and Tanner took it all in stride, as if it was just another day at the office. On second thought, it probably was just another day for them. She didn’t have a clue about Marine training, especially at upper levels, but she imagined grueling workouts with all sorts of challenges on little rest. It only garnered more respect and admiration in her book.
She did a few more activities, closely monitored by Tanner. Deep down, she preened from his attention and protective streak, even as her stubborn independent nature fought against letting him treat her with kid gloves. She decided he would figure out her toughness, give or take a year.
After the guys had finished, they headed back to the parking lot, Oakley pulling up the rear. Their shirts clung to their bodies, the dampness darkening the colors. Sweat glistened on their foreheads and trickled down now and again. Yet, each one moved with fluid grace, obviously nowhere near their limits of physical exhaustion.
The level of their conditioning simply amazed her.
Spoon gave her a quick hug and whispered in her ear, “You’re good for him.” With a wink to her, he hollered at Tanner then climbed in his vehicle and took off.
She stepped up into Tanner’s vehicle, sliding alongside him. He shoved the keys in the ignition, checking her out with his peripheral vision.
The tense silence proved awkward as Tanner stewed on his side of the vehicle. His jaw ticked as he stared straight ahead, fingers wrapping tightly around the steering wheel.
Needing to fill in the quiet gaps, she initiated conversation. “That was fun. Maybe we can come back soon?”
He grunted, started the engine, and pulled out into traffic. “Probably.”
“I can try the zip-line next time. It does look like fun.”
Tanner spared her a glance. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sore this morning?”
She blinked at the sudden change in topic. So that’s the thorn in his butt. Clamping down on her patience, she sought to explain. “I wasn’t too sore.”
“But it was uncomfortable,” he insisted.
Good grief. How did a woman explain such a thing to a hard-headed man? A blast furnace blew across her face. “Tanner. It’s just sore muscles, like if you run extra far or hard. I loved this morning, as I’m sure you already know.”
He stopped at a red light, meeting and holding her gaze with intensity. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“As if.” She waved with her hand. “I was on top and set the pace. Besides, it was afterward when I began to feel it, not before. You didn’t hurt me. I liked it and it’s just simple tender muscles. No big deal. Give me a day and I’ll be back in the saddle again.”
A slow grin appeared on his face, replacing the previous thinned lips. “You like being a cowgirl, huh?”
She read between the lines, easily picking up his poorly cloaked reference. Heat returned to her face with a vengeance. “Neanderthal.”
Tanner laughed, reaching out to pat her knee. “And you wouldn’t have me any other way.”
“Just don’t drag me to your cave by the hair.” She joined in the teasing, relieved to see the return of his amusement. “I might not like that.”
His eyes flashed with mischief. “My little cavewoman.”
She snorted. “I may cook and clean, but I refuse to wear animal hides and stick a bone in my hair.”
“I know somewhere else you can stick my bone.” His words dripped with sensual huskiness.
“Oh, good grief.” She covered her face with her hands and ignored Tanner’s guffaw. Men may think of sex every six seconds, but she would bet her last dollar Tanner exceeded the average.