“Tanner,” I breathe, gripping at his tie. “What about dinner?”
“I love the way you say my name,” he whispers gruffly. “I’ll love it even more when you say it as you come.” His hand floats down and cups the apex of my thighs. He doesn’t move, just teases with a push of firm, tight pressure. A small moan leaks from my mouth and slips into his. “Do you want me?”
Disbelief washes over me. I can’t believe I’m doing this. “Yes.”
“Not yet,” he breathes against my ear.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open, welcoming a rush of chilly air into the lift. It hits my cheeks and I’m thankful for the relief. Tanner leads me out into the hall, briskly nodding at the people waiting to pass us. I’m still flustered as he directs me up a central, winding stairwell to two wide, dark sliding doors. He reaches for the keypad and punches in a code, and the doors slide open with grace, revealing what could only be the equivalent of a high-rise penthouse apartment. The cabin’s view is just as awe-inspiring as his office view, and the décor is clean and masculine, with nautical touches scattered around the room.
“Wow.” My brain struggles to take in the full effect of the space, and is thwarted when Tanner recaptures my attention. He steps in my line of sight and slowly prowls toward me, lazily loosening his tie. He looks around, taking in his own domain. I am convinced he can hear the thudding of my wildly beating heart echoing off the walls.
“I agree.”
“Have you lived here long?”
“Just out of curiosity,” he stops before me with a playful twist of his lips, “did you do any research on me or my ship before you came aboard to review it?”
“Well…”
“Be honest, Anya.”
“I might have read an article or two.”
“Is that so?” He reaches out and gingerly runs his finger along my dress strap, then tugs gently on the edge of my scarf. My eyes follow his movements. Each one makes me squirm.
Suddenly I can’t stay still.
I step to the left, away from his skilled fingers and over to the dining area. “If I admit I didn’t, will you refuse to finish the interview?”
“Of course not. I like that you know nothing about me or my ship.” I feel him before I see him. He comes up from behind and pushes my hair aside to drop a soft kiss on my shoulder. “It means I get to show you exactly who I am. One thing you’ll quickly learn about me is that I like action.” His hand grips my hip and his fingers brush over my torso. “I like to let my actions do all the talking.”
“And you’re a man of your word,” I say breathily.
His nose pushes into my hair. “See? You’re learning so much already.”
“Tanner,” I swim through the foggy haze of desire he’s stirring and wiggle away from his touch to turn around. “I have a confession.” He stares down at me and the fire in his eyes nearly singes my clothes right off. “I don’t…I don’t play. I’ve never played. I don’t know how to play.”
There’s a slight tilt of his head as he considers my words. “You’re a commitment kind of woman.”
“Yes.”
“Yet you’re here with me.”
“Yes.”
“Well,” he inhales deeply and finishes undoing his tie, “I respect that. Perhaps I misread you. If so, I apologize.”
“No.” I stutter and step forward, determined to follow through. “You didn’t misread me. I do want this. This type of thing is just…not something I normally do.”
“I see.” He quiets for a moment. “In that case, how about this? I’ll commit to you for the remainder of the sailing. I’m all yours until we dock at Port Canaveral. Not much of a commitment, I suppose, but it’s what I can offer.”
“Wait. Like an arrangement? Does that mean no other brunettes in the hallway?”
“It means no other women while you’re on this ship. Period. Will that suffice?”
“You’re saying you’d—”
“Worship your body exclusively for the next ten days? Yes.”
A rush of air punches from my lungs as he says the words. His expression is 100 percent serious, and something about the certainty of his tone and the confidence lurking in his baby blues sends a wave of heat rolling down my spine. “Okay,” I squeak, “that can...that can work.”
“We’ll keep business separate. We’ll still meet for dinner tomorrow evening and you can interview me for as long as you’d like. But right now, I want to see you face down, naked on my bed. If you agree.”
I start to speak, but the words stall on my tongue. I watch as Tanner carefully steps aside to clear the path to the bedroom, giving me a choice. The bed is visible from where we stand in the dining room area, draped in silky silver duvet and bright white sheets. I don’t give myself a second more to think about it, I just begin to walk forward. A slow, sensual smile curls his lips as he gestures for me to enter his lair, and I comply, feeling the room swallow me up the second he closes the door behind us.
I walk to the edge of the bed and he instructs me to turn around. I focus on the headboard as I turn my back to him. My palms begin to sweat. Why didn’t Lana tell me it would be like this? Why didn’t she prepare me? Or are all casual hook-ups as intimidating as Tanner Christensen? I freeze when I feel him against me, his erection pressing against my ass, his hands sliding slowly down my arms. Never have I been with a man who makes me feel like a virgin all over again.
“Relax, baby,” he whispers against my neck, slowly inching his fingers up the sides of my thighs, pushing my dress up as he goes. “I’m going to take good care of you.” I close my eyes and inhale deeply, letting my head fall back until it rolls onto his shoulder. His warm thumbs slip into the sides of my panties and he peels them down my hips, hooking his thumbs along the lace edges. The black material hits my feet and he taps each thigh as he crouches down. He tugs the panties from my feet and rises, bringing my dress up over my head as he moves. My nipples respond pertly. I stand there, naked and waiting.
Hard metal clinks and meets the soft pull of leather, followed by the swift sound of a zipper releasing. A light wisp of air caresses my legs—his pants dropping to the floor behind me. And then he’s against me again, and he’s nothing but hard, hot male. His hands land on my hips, smooth, firm, and determined. My knees feel weak. I think I might pass out. That would no doubt kill Lana’s dreams.
“Lie down. Face down, ass up,” Tanner instructs. His voice seeps into me like lava and everything in me wants to turn around, to face him and smash my mouth on his, but I obey his command and crawl onto the bed, prone, just as he tells me to. My body hits the cool satin and I cradle my head on my arms, turning to rest on the side of my cheek. I’m able to catch a glimpse of him over my shoulder, and my reflexes almost send me flipping onto my back so I can get a better look. I’ve seen his bare body while he jogs, but nothing compares to seeing it stark naked and standing at the foot of the bed.
I feel his eyes all over me.
“Not yet, Anya.” His voice shifts, powerful and patient, all at once. I look away and remain still, sucking in a sharp breath when he starts forward and climbs over me, scooting up on his knees. He bends and I can’t see him anymore, can only feel the hot breath of his mouth meet the small of my back. He presses a kiss there, and then his tongue is on me, flat and focused, licking a trail up my spine. He stops halfway and finishes the trail with a light brush of his lips, sending goose bumps all the way up to my neck. His hand smooths over my ass and grips hard, pinching along the curve. His mouth lands where his fingers have just been, kissing along the round swell before travelling back up. “Tell me what pleases you.”
“This,” I choke out, “this pleases me.”
“And this?” He slips a hand between my thighs and slides it upward, parting my legs until they spread for him. The tips of his fingers brush my entrance and then delve inside, pushing deep. I can’t control the moan that emanates from my chest.
“Yeah, that.”
�
�So patient,” he breathes, beginning a slow pump of his fingers. “And so obedient. I wonder what you’d do if I let you have your way with me.”
“Let me turn over and you’ll find out.” The words come out in a rush, before I can filter them. Holy shit, did I just say that?
“You’ll get your turn,” Tanner chuckles quietly, withdrawing his fingers. A wet smack fills the air, his mouth sucking his fingers. “First, I need a taste of that,” he slides his fingers back down, over my slick wetness, “right there.” Heat swells low in my belly and my nipples strain against the satin comforter.
Tanner dips his head again, leaning down to lick the path his fingers just traveled. His cheeks and chin are smooth against my delicate skin. He teases and sucks, groaning against my wet flesh, and I nearly come right there, but my body holds back, telling me to wait.
“Not yet,” he says again, as if reading my mind. His mouth leaves my entrance and he crawls up over me, digging his teeth into my shoulder blade. He settles himself on his elbows, and then I feel him between my thighs, gently prodding, searching for a way in. My clit is pulsating. “You’re exquisite, Anya. Tell me,” he tips his hips, “when’s the last time you’ve been with a man?”
My body stiffens. “Why?”
“I’d like to know.”
“It’s been a while.”
“Did he satisfy you?”
“I…I don’t know.”
He tips his hips again, brushing against me. It’s divine torture. “I think you’d know if you were satisfied.”
“He was considerate, I guess.”
“Considerate is good. But did he know how to please you?”
My fingers curl around the edges of the pillow. “No.” A tightness begins to twitch behind my ribcage.
He kisses along my shoulder and his throat hums against my skin. “Well, I know how. And when I’m done with you, you’ll know what it means to be satisfied.”
“I’m a little nervous.” I wiggle beneath him, attempting to push out some of the tension that’s seeped back into my bones.
“Take your time, baby. Breathe and let me in when you’re ready.” He rests himself against me, his hard flesh throbbing, and I close my eyes, dragging in a long, slow breath. I gently push back against him, letting him know I’m ready for him, and he carefully slides in, lowering his forehead to my shoulder as he rolls his hips forward. A joint exhale fills the room, and my entire body disintegrates on the mattress as he begins to take me. All my body registers is the heavenly feel of him stretching and filling me, his heat blanketing my back, but my mind is fixed on the pace he’s setting—slow and measured, as if he knows I need the tameness right now.
My body begins to move in rhythm with his, and my grip relaxes on the pillow. He caresses my shoulder and explores a trail down my side, running his palm along the curve of my breast and over the flare of my hip, where he stops to grip. Each touch is luxurious and gentle. He’s not treating me like an object; he’s not fucking me. He’s making love, and it’s the very last thing I expected from a man like Tanner Christensen.
“Feel good, baby?” He nudges my ear and bites down on the sensitive flesh, until it stings.
“Yes,” I say with a raspy breath, “incredible.”
He pulls out and rolls me onto my back, and when his eyes find mine, the room tilts. The space is too small, his beating heart too close, those eyes too penetrating. He sinks back into me on a strained groan, and he covers me as if he needs me to breathe. His forearms form a tight cage around my head, his fingers weaving through my hair as his hips resume their rhythm.
“Show me how to please you, Anya.” He drops his head and breathes against my neck. “Don’t be shy.”
One of my hands glides up to grab at his forearm, directing his hand to my breast. I press his palm against me and he responds immediately, gripping hard, rubbing in soft, easy circles. I moan and his smile spreads against my neck, his lips curving in satisfaction. “Tanner,” I whisper, question in my voice, “kiss me?”
“My pleasure.” He lifts his head and pauses, fixing his eyes on me first, then lowers his mouth to mine, tracing my bottom lip with his tongue, beckoning me to open for him. Unlike his caresses, his kiss is hard, hungry, sending my arms in a firm knot around his neck. Our noses brush, his head tilting to bring his tongue deeper, and suddenly the pace of his hips begins to shift, our bodies moving faster, more urgently.
He pulls back from my mouth. “You’re close. I can feel it,” he pants, our breaths mingling.
“Don’t stop.”
“Lock your ankles, baby.” He reaches down and hitches my legs higher up his waist, sending himself deeper. “Do you like that?”
“God, yes.” My gaze rolls south to watch our bodies join and merge, my hips rising to meet his thrusts. His fingers drift to my navel, over my core, and he picks up the pace, his hand roaming back up to my breast. He thumbs my nipple and cups me, using the heel of his palm to rub more circles against the swell. I can tell he’s close, too; he’s throbbing inside of me, the pounding as desperate as his heartbeat against my chest.
He rocks into me, dropping his head to tease my collarbone with his tongue. I can’t hold my moans back—why am I even trying to? With each push of his hips, I grow more vocal, less inhibited, surrendering to the way this man is playing my body like a fine instrument. The intimacy suffocates me, Tanner’s intense gaze leaving chills in its wake. My body is burning, but the sheets are cold against my sweaty back. I don’t want the high to end, but I can feel myself tipping, can feel him tumbling over inside of me.
“Tanner!” I shout, lifting my hips and straining against him. My head snaps to the side, bearing down against the mattress. His teeth sting my neck and he groans roughly, his knees sliding and pressing into the sheets next to mine. The muscles in his thighs undulate and I let go, my back bowing and rising to meet his chest. He grips my ass and rears forward, his nostrils flaring against my throat as he follows me, coming on a loud moan.
“Anya,” he sighs, his body shuddering while I continue to shatter, pushing and pushing until he’s completely empty. My hips drop, the small of my back smacking the mattress, and I begin a descent. Tanner deflates, his weight crushing me, but it’s so glorious, I don’t struggle, just let it send me sinking into the sheets. “I knew it,” he grins into my throat.
“Knew what?”
“My name sounds even better rolling off your lips when you come.”
My fingers find his hair, sliding effortlessly through the disheveled sea of blonde. I smile. “You’re quite self-satisfied, aren’t you, Mr. Christensen?”
“Quite,” he answers unapologetically, rolling onto his side to lean on his elbow. His gaze drops to dance over my bare breasts. He grins slowly. “You’re a work of art, Miss Banks. It’s a shame the last guy didn’t know how to touch you. He missed out.”
My cheeks burn and I look down.
Tanner’s finger extends, tipping my chin up. He finds my eyes. “A woman like you deserves a man, Anya. Don’t settle.”
A disbelieving laugh breaks free. “A woman like me? You don’t know me.”
“I know a goddess when I see one.”
I roll my eyes and send him a smartass grin. “I’ve already spread my legs for you. You don’t have to spout those lines.”
“Oh,” he chuckles, pinching my hip. “Fresh. I knew there was some sass in there somewhere.” He bends and plants a kiss on my cheek. He quiets, watching me intently.
I stare up, waiting. “What is it?”
“I want you to write the feature for your magazine, not Lana.”
“What?” I laugh, stunned by his audacity.
“You should write it. You should get the credit.”
“Um…hate to break it to you, but I have a boss to answer to, unlike you. And he assigned Lana to write it, not me.”
“He’s a stupid man.”
“Lana’s a fantastic writer! You know nothing about her.”
“I know nothing
about you, too, apparently.” He arches a brow.
“You don’t.” I narrow my eyes and peck his nose. “So mind your business.”
“My business this week is spoiling you rotten, so anything that concerns you is therefore my business. I’m going to speak to this boss of yours.” He shifts off the bed and stands fluidly to his feet, lazily stretching his arm above his head, ruffling his hair. The muscles in his shoulders swell and retract.
I sit up, drooling. “Excuse me! You’ll do no such thing.”
“That’s another thing you’ll quickly learn about me, Anya Banks.” He turns, his hands landing on the chiseled dips of his hips. “I have the power of influence. And I like to use it as I see fit.”
“Tanner,” I plead, tugging the sheet to my waist.
“You spread your legs for me,” he says, turning for the bathroom. “I reserve every right to treat you like a queen. The feature is yours.”
He smiles wickedly as he shuts the bathroom door. I betray my solid objection with a giggle and haul a pillow at him. It’s too late, of course. It smacks the door with a thud and falls to the floor. I flop back onto the mattress and stare up at the ceiling. I’ve underestimated myself. I’ve underestimated Tanner Christensen. It’s unexpected, thrilling, and nerve wracking all at the same time. I don’t complain, just surrender to it all and settle back into the sheets. My eyes drift shut, carrying me to a dreamy, tropical paradise, where Tanner is the god of the sea, and I’m his goddess.
FIVE
My lashes flutter. I’m wide awake. My heart is racing, my forehead sweating. It was only a dream, I tell myself. The roaring waves still beat at my face, the current still tugs at my torso, whiplashing my body like a tree branch in a wind storm. And I can’t see her. I can’t find her hand. My head is pulled under and I fight for the surface, gasping for breath.
It was only a dream.
Suddenly I’m aware of the firm, warm arm that curls around me. My gaze rolls to the left and I see him. Tanner Christensen. I exhale quietly and snuggle closer, wiggling into the crook of his arm, resting my head against his chest. Visions of the night before bombard me. It was heady, luscious, and not nearly as disconnected as I’d expected a casual roll in the hay to be. We fell asleep for a while, then woke up for another round, which lasted well past midnight. Tanner Christensen has skills. He knows just how to touch me, just what to say and when, and those discoveries tell me he does, in fact, play. I try not to dwell on that thought, and instead pay attention to the rumbling in my stomach.
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