No. He’d need a freezing cold shower—or a few hours in bed with her—before he could even come close to getting comfortable.
When he nodded, she said, “Press your forearms against your thighs like this,” and unintentionally gave him a killer view down her tank top.
Pink lace. That was the bra she’d put on this morning. Worse still, it was cut low enough for her full br**sts to almost spill out the top.
Just barely, he managed to do as she asked, repeating, “Forearms to thighs,” like an idiot.
She handed him a wet gray blob. “Okay, now center the clay on the wheel with a nice firm toss, so it sticks.”
His aim was dead-on and she hummed her approval. “Perfect. Now start it spinning slowly with your foot and—”
The second the wheel began to spin, the gray lump splooged against the rim of the wheel. He could see how hard Vicki was trying not to laugh.
“Go ahead,” he told her, “let it out.”
Her laughter immediately bubbled over. “I just had a major flashback to our old garage days. But don’t worry, I’m not as easily daunted anymore. I think I just need you to get a feel for the way it is when it’s working. Then you’ll be able to do it on your own.”
His heart almost stopped in his chest when she moved behind him and put her arms around his. “Shoot, I can’t reach the clay like this.” She moved beside him again, frowning. “Probably the only thing that will work is if I face you on the other side or—” She stopped, shook her head.
“Or what?”
“I could try sitting between your legs.” She gave him a crooked grin. “You know, in the classic Ghost position, but without the sex afterward.”
He worked to keep his grin easy, his joke light. “And here I was sure that was your plan all along.”
Her own grin faltered for a minute, her cheeks flushing before she shook her head and laughed. “You don’t know how many Ghost jokes I’ve heard over the years. I can’t believe I just made one.” She was all business again as she moved her stool in front of his and pushed the wheel out slightly to make room for their arms and legs. “Okay, let’s make magic happen, shall we?”
Heck yeah, he was ready for magic. But since he wasn’t ever going to get to the ultimate magic with her, he tried to be happy with what he did have.
With her small but strong hands over his, they threw the clay in the center and began to form it into a cone shape.
“That’s it,” she encouraged. “Can you feel how right that is?”
Sweet Lord, all he could think was that she could have been talking to him in bed while he was tasting her. He grunted a yes and let her keep manipulating his hands with hers.
She sped the wheel up with her foot, then wet both their hands one after the other so their fingers slipped and slid against each other until it was hard to tell where one started and the other ended. Just like in the sculpture she’d been working on that morning.
Keeping their left hands on the outside of the wheel, she had them press down with their right hands from the top of the clay. A few seconds later, she maneuvered their hands again so that they were pressing on either side of it to force it upward.
“We’re ready to make the opening now. We’re going to have to work together to keep our hands really still so that the hole doesn’t get all wobbly.”
Her voice sounded breathy and he could feel her heart pounding through her back against his chest where he was pressed against her.
“Start with your thumb,” she said right before she moved his right thumb into the top center of the mound, then held it steady with their left hands, “and then when you feel like we’re deep enough, you’ll use both hands to widen the opening, like this.”
Ryan couldn’t make sense of a word she said after deep enough, not with all the blood rushing from his brain and pounding south. Fortunately, Vicki was moving his hands for him on the clay and all he had to do was let himself be led by her.
“How does that all feel so far?”
“Great.”
She slowed down the wheel and backed off the pressure of their hands on the clay as she looked over her shoulder at him. “Do you want to try pulling up the sides?”
Thinking that he would barely have to move his head forward at all to kiss her, he blurted, “God, yes, I want to try it.”
Her eyes widened. “If I’d known you would be this enthusiastic about it, I wouldn’t have let you quit so soon when we were kids.”
It took him several beats to figure out what she was talking about. Finally, it hit him what he’d said...and what an idiot he must sound like. In any case, it was for the best that they hadn’t done this as teenagers, because there was no way he would have had a prayer of controlling himself back then. Even as an adult, there wasn’t much slack left on his self-control.
Before he could figure out how to backpedal from his earlier statement, she turned back to the wheel and said, “Oops, it’s going to squash in on itself if we don’t get moving. The quick and dirty is that you’re going to reach in with your left hand and pull the walls up. On three. One. Two. Three.”
He tried to let his hands go loose in hers again, but with the words—and visual of—quick and dirty playing over and over in his head, he couldn’t manage it. In under five seconds, the clay beneath their hands went from a well-formed almost-bowl to a haphazard blob.
She exclaimed in dismay at the exact moment he cursed.
And then they both started laughing, her back shaking against his chest.
“I was so sure you were going to get it this time.”
“I guess this proves I’m not that good with my hands after all,” he joked.
She laughed again at his wildly inaccurate statement and he was finally letting himself enjoy the feel of her hips against his thighs, her ponytail tickling his neck, when a figure appeared in the doorway.
Ryan felt Vicki’s entire body tense...and his own hands fisted in the clay until it seeped out grey and viscous between his fingers.
“James.” Her voice shook slightly on the man’s name, but was perfectly steady again a moment later. “I didn’t expect you to come by until later this afternoon with the rest of the board.”
“Hello, Victoria. Ryan.”
Vicki pushed the potting wheel away and stood up.