Meyer scrutinized him long and hard, his blue eyes as cold as Isaac’s, and his expression unreadable. It was the same steely gaze which had once made him a great team leader and a formidable opponent. Tanner willed himself not to squirm.
“Finish your pansy-assed workout and report to the field in fifty minutes.” Meyer checked his Rolex for emphasis.
“Yes, sir,” Tanner answered automatically, feeling like he was dealing with his father all over again.
“Not sir. Coach will do.” Meyer strode off like a man on a mission, ready to beat down the next cocky jock in his path.
Tanner shook his head and sighed. He’d made a crappy first impression, but then his lousy play the last couple years had already paved that road.
“Whoa, he’s a hardass.” Hunter came up behind him in that stealthy way he had.
“No shit, but he’s the best.” Tanner turned toward the locker room. “And I was fucking finished with my workout.”
“He didn’t think so.” Hunter followed him.
“He wasn’t here at five A.M. when I started either.” Tanner sat down in front of his locker. The room was starting to fill-up with players buzzing with excitement over the start of training camp mixed with trepidation concerning the new management and coaching staff.
“Good things are coming. I can feel it.” Hunter grinned.
Tanner rolled his eyes. Hunter’s great-grandmother was a shaman or something like that, and Hunter fancied himself to have some kind of magical powers. Most of the time Tanner rolled with it, but today he wasn’t feeling especially gracious.
“Hey, old man, move over, there’s a new game in town.”
Tanner glanced up to see who the unfamiliar voice was addressing and came face to face with the rookie quarterback, Noah Hernandez.
“I’m only twenty-four, rookie. Lots of gas left in this tank.”
The kid looked him up and down and smirked. “Too bad you’ll be parking in a garage in another town then.” Hernandez leaned close. “The quarterback job is mine.”
Tanner fisted his hands. For the first time in a very long time, he wanted to start a fight and beat the crap out of the smug, over-confident ass. The kid wouldn’t know what hit him, literally. Tanner knew all the street-fighting tricks. He’d take the rookie down in five seconds.
And after that, Coach Meyer would take Tanner down in less.
* * * *
Tanner dragged his sore, tired ass home about midnight. Emma had waited up for him, and he wished she hadn’t. In fact, her concern irritated him for reasons he couldn’t explain. Maybe he was already resenting the old ball and chain. Or maybe, and more likely, she was getting too close to him, setting off all kinds of alarms, and he fought to remain invulnerable.
When Tanner walked into the great room she’d so lovingly decorated, she put down her iPad and ran to him, hugging him. He resisted at first, then wrapped his arms around her now-familiar body, needing her touch more than he hated to admit. She held him tightly, her hands stroking the strained muscles in his back as if she instinctually knew where he hurt the most.
Finally she drew back and stared up into his face. He tried to smile, but smiling required too much energy. “I missed you,” she said, her blue eyes bright with delight at seeing him. Her welcome made him feel like a total ass, as if he wasn’t feeling bad enough considering the day’s events. He’d looked like the rookie today in the passing drills while Hernandez stepped up like a pro. Tanner caught the coaches watching the kid and whispering among themselves. He also caught the grim expression on Coach Meyer’s face as he watched Tanner miss the target on drill after drill. He was trying too hard instead of letting his innate ability, training, and instincts take over.
“It’s been a tough day. I’m going to bed.”
“Want me to join you?” Emma ran a hand down his thigh and cupped his balls, giving a little squeeze.
A minute ago he’d been too tired for anything but a deep, dead sleep, but suddenly his dick sprang to life and gave his tired body a shot of adrenaline. He desperately needed to avail himself of Emma’s sweet softness. Even though it’d only been this morning, it seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”
Her face lit up, and she followed him to the bedroom, leaving a trail of shed clothes on the floor. Tanner didn’t waste any time with foreplay. He needed her with a desperation he couldn’t control. Rolling a condom onto his dick, he joined her on the bed. She lay there naked, watching him, passion shining in her eyes.
“Baby, I have to have you now,” he said through gritted teeth, pretty sure this’d be the fastest fuck he’d ever had with her. He was just about to come right now looking into those trusting blue eyes, a trust he sure as hell hadn’t earned and didn’t deserve, but he’d save the guilt for later.
“Take me.” She gifted him with an inviting smile, one of the many things she’d developed in their brief relationship. She arched her body, drawing his gaze to those incredible breasts of hers. He sucked in a harsh breath as he took a moment to burn her beautiful body into his memory, not that it hadn’t already charred a wide swath through his brain like an out-of-control wildfire.
He started to take her missionary style but made the mistake of looking into her eyes. He couldn’t face those eyes, not after the day he’d had. She worshipped him, and he wasn’t worthy. He couldn’t take it. Not when he felt like a total failure in every other part of his life lately. He’d fail her, too. It would only be a matter of time before the adoration would be replaced with disappointment.
Tanner flipped her over onto her stomach. “On your hands and knees,” he growled into her back, as he moved behind her. He ran his hands across her ass, and she giggled, wiggling her butt in his face. He groaned.
“I don’t think I can be gentle tonight,” he warned, as he rose up on his knees.
“Then don’t be gentle.”
He wasn’t.
Tanner lunged into her in one hard, powerful thrust, stretching her wide. She gasped and let out a little cry.
“Did I hurt you?” He held her in place with his cock buried deep inside her and her ass pressed against his stomach.
“It’s all good,” she managed to say. Whether or not it really was, his dick didn’t care. Tanner withdrew and thrust into her again. And again. And again. He reached around and grabbed her nipples, squeezing and pulling on them as he slammed into her body, using her in ways he’d never used her before. He came hard and fast in mere seconds, a purely physical relief with none of the spiritual connection he’d experienced before with her.
Exhausted, spent, and beyond disappointed in himself, Tanner rolled onto his back, tossing the spent condom in the nearby trash can. He’d used Emma as if she were just a body with the necessary parts. He’d never treated her like that.
Only right now, he was so spent, he couldn’t form a coherent thought about what’d just happened. He made the mistake of meeting Emma’s gaze. She wasn’t smiling. In fact, she looked sad. Only then did he realize, Emma hadn’t come.
He closed his eyes and let the blessed oblivion of sleep take over.
* * * *
Emma lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. A few feet away, Tanner slumbered, yet he might as well have been on the other side of the planet. He’d callously used her tonight, like she was one of his nameless women he screwed and discarded when he was done, not even bothering to know their names.
He’d fucked her. Emma never used that word, but it fit what happened tonight, and she’d given him permission to do it, even invited him.
What was happening to her? To them?
A tear trailed down her cheek, and she viciously swiped at it.
Damn him.
Tux crawled onto her chest and rested his face on her cheek, purring loudly. She absently stroked his soft fur.
After their incredible time on Madrona Island, Tanner started emotionally distancing himself from her, and she’d be darned if she’d let him off the
hook that easily. She’d fight for him, and she’d get him to open up to her, not just to salvage their relationship, but because Tanner needed her more than she needed him.
She wondered if she was seeing a pattern. Did Tanner walk away when things turned difficult or before he became attached? Was that how he protected his heart? She of all people understood, and she’d understand even better if she had a clue what made him the man he was.
Until he put his broken pieces back together, he’d never have a chance at happiness, and neither would Emma. She had to find the key to unlock his demons and banish them before he banished her from his life.
Chapter 12—Encroachment
Emma woke to a kiss on her cheek. Stretched out in bed on his side, Tanner propped himself up on an elbow and smiled tentatively at her in the early morning light.
“Hi,” she said softly, stretching and accidentally bumping the cat at the bottom of the bed. Tux stood, glared at her, and hopped onto the floor. His tail twitched back and forth as he stalked out the bedroom door. He’d been doing a lot of that lately.
A different person than he’d been last night, Tanner laughed at the cat’s indignant exit. “Are you okay? I was a little rough, and I’m sorry for that.”
“I didn’t mind.” The physical roughness didn’t bother her at all, but the emotional distance tore her apart and left a gaping hole of loneliness.
“You didn’t come,” he spoke softly, as if deeply troubled.
She shrugged as he toyed with a lock of her hair. “That’s okay.”
“It’s not. Not to me. That’s not how I roll. I always give as good as I get.”
“It’s not a competition. You were tired. That’s okay. Another time I’ll be tired, and you won’t.”
He sighed and flipped onto his back. His trademark grin gone from his face, his green eyes were hooded and distant.
“What’s wrong?” Emma slid over to him, and rested her upper body on his, staring into those sad green eyes.
“Nothing,” he said tensely, his entire body strung tight and his demeanor locked down.
“Talk to me, please. Don’t shut me out. I think you could use a friend.” Emma swallowed her pride and pleaded with him. She leaned across his chest, her face inches from his. Tanner looked right through her. He flexed his jaw and closed his eyes for a moment. She waited him out.
Friends and family considered her the sweet, compliant sister, but she’d wearied of the role long ago. With Tanner, she wanted to be an equal partner with her own thoughts and dreams. He might’ve thought he was getting a subservient, compliant wife who’d make him look good to management, but Emma wanted more.
She touched his jaw, and he actually flinched. “You’re so much more complex than you pretend. I don’t know where to start with you, which battle to fight first, which secret to mine for the truth.”
“None of them,” he said tightly. “You don’t want to know what’s underneath because it’s not pretty. In fact, it’s damned ugly.”
That might be the most honest thing he’d ever said to her, and she was greedy for more. Much, much more. She proceeded delicately, feeling her way as if she were in the dark.
“Maybe I do, Tan.”
He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’m not the same person on the inside.”
“Like Isaac? Avery doesn’t care. She accepts him for who he is.”
Tanner stiffened at the mention of his brother and scrutinized her closely. “What do you know of Isaac’s past?”
“Nothing. Avery would probably tell me, but I want to hear it from you.” Emma held her breath and waited for his answer.
“I’m not sure you do.” Tanner’s evasive maneuvering would not discourage her.
“You confronted your brother and called him a murderer. You owe me an explanation.”
Tanner went pale. “You go for the jugular.”
“So did you. Besides, I go for the truth because the truth will set you free.”
He barked out a laugh. “What the fuck have you been reading in your spare time? Self-help books?”
Emma socked him on the arm, grateful for the release of tension. “No, I’ve been reading relationship books,” she teased.
“Oh, hell, that’s even worse.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. His hands cupped her butt, and he held her tightly against his erection. “I’ll tell you the key to a good relationship. Sex. More sex. Lots more sex.”
Emma laughed, but he silenced her with a powerful kiss which sucked the breath right out of her lungs. She forgot her questions and why it was important to know more about him beyond the feel of him inside her. He lifted her leg in the air and entered her from his side. He took it slow and gentle, pushing in and retreating, over and over, until he’d reduced her to a whimpering mass of mushy female. She pushed her hips against his, taking him deeper. He found a different angle, hitting her in a spot she’d never been touched before.
“Tanner. Oh, dear, Tanner,” she panted.
“Oh, fuck. I forgot a condom,” he started to pull out, but she latched onto him with her legs wrapped around his waist and anchored on the small of his back.
“Don’t. I’m on the pill. I’m safe. Are—are you?”
“Fair question. Yes, I was checked just before the wedding.”
“Good.”
Tanner whispered words that sounded like a prayer. “You feel so damn good with nothing between us.”
“So do you. It’s so—sensuous.”
Tanner picked up the pace, moving inside her. Emma closed her eyes and held onto this man. Her body welcomed him as her inner muscles clutched at his penis. They came together in an explosion of mutual need and skyrocketing emotions.
Only later did she realize he’d distracted her and not answered her questions.
But she wasn’t giving up yet. Not by a long shot.
* * * *
Coach Jackson Meyer rubbed his eyes and stared at the play on the big screen. He stifled a yawn and took another gulp of coffee. When he’d been a player, he’d always been a glutton for punishment after the season started, keeping the longest hours of any teammate. After an injury forced his retirement, he’d taken a three-year hiatus to figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. He’d dabbled in several things, including sports broadcasting and analysis, but coaching kept calling to him. He didn’t consider himself coaching material, didn’t have the necessary patience for teaching rookies or counseling veterans. Yet, he did have an eye for the game, an innate sense of where a play would end up before it started, and an understanding of the often-neglected importance of the mental part of the game. After all, he’d been there. He’d been to the top of the mountain and to the deep depths of the pits of despair.
His poor wife had pulled the covers over her head when he got out of bed at four A.M. She’d always been his strongest supporter, and he loved her as much today as the day they’d met. She kept the family together, running herd on him and their three children, two boys and a girl, varying in ages from one to five.
Jack punched Pause on the remote and ran a hand through his messy dark hair.
“Hey.” Head coach Brandon Miller poked his head around the open door.
“Hey,” Jack answered.
Brandon walked into the room and plopped down in one of the plush chairs in the coaches’ room. He pointed at the paused play on the screen. “The rookie is good.”
Jack shrugged. “He’s okay.”
Brandon squinted at him. “What are you thinking?”
Jack considered his words carefully, something he rarely did. “Wolfe’s the better quarterback, more talented, faster, better arm. The whole package with one glaring omission.”
“What’s that?” Brandon asked, intrigued.
“Confidence.”
Brandon almost snorted up his coffee, obviously thinking Jack was being sarcastic. He wasn’t. Brandon sobered and frowned. “You are kidding, right?”
“Fuck, no. They
threw him into the game too early, no receivers, no offensive line, and expected way too much. This team destroyed his confidence.”
“Funny, seems to me he has cockiness in abundance.”
“Only on the surface. Underneath he’s a mess.”
“I’ll have to pay more attention. I wondered if he was lazy. I mean, he’s missing easy passes, seems sluggish when scrambling, and he’s messing up the most fundamental of plays.”
“First one into the facility in the morning, last one out at night. Don’t call that lazy.”
Brandon inclined his head in agreement.
“He shows all the classic signs of a guy who’s thinking too much instead of trusting his skills and instincts. I doubt the former coaching staff did much to tutor him on proper technique in the NFL. I’ve been watching film of him at the U-Dub. He survived on raw talent, something you can’t do in the pros because everyone is that much better.”
“No, you can’t.”
“He’ll be our franchise quarterback if I can bludgeon him into reaching his potential.”
“I’m putting my money on you, Jack. You have the most brutal sledgehammer of any guy I know.”
“I’ll give it everything I have.” Jack grinned. He’d always been a tough bastard on and off the field. Tanner would either flourish or fail in their new system. Jack would give him the tools to succeed but the rest would be up to Tanner Wolfe. What didn’t kill him would make him stronger and their franchise quarterback.
Jack briefly wondered if Jack’s best would be good enough. Too many top college quarterbacks were expected to do too much, too soon, and were chewed up and spit out by the NFL machine, never to be heard from again.
He’d made it his personal mission that Tanner didn’t meet the same fate. He wasn’t sure why he cared, especially when they had a talented rookie to tutor. Maybe he saw too much of himself in Tanner, and maybe he believed in the kid, even though no one else did.
Chapter 13—Out of Bounds
Tanner rubbed himself dry with a towel then wrapped it around his waist. Practice today had been better, but not good enough. Coach Meyer rode his ass the entire time while dumping so much praise on the rookie, Tanner almost lost his breakfast and lunch, not to mention his temper.
Blindsided Page 14