Tall, Hard and Trouble

by Cerise DeLand

  She’d stood in her bedroom and given in so easily to Tate’s demand to come with him. For years, she’d yearned for a respite from her problems. Last night, she’d given in to the desire to claim whatever peace and solitude she could with him. What her subconscious and her body wanted more than any other thing was Tate. Just Tate. All of Tate. She’d been eager, willing and silly enough to believe that she could leave all her worries behind if only for a few hours, a few days, wanting to get somewhere where she could kiss him again, tell him how thrilled she was he wanted her, had wanted her for so damn long. She recalled how she ached to crawl into his embrace after they left her townhouse and hidden her car in a private garage near his corporate offices. She’d examined his sharp profile in the silhouette of night along the highway as he had driven them south to his Galveston marina.

  “We don’t want anyone to be able to track you until Grant and his staff find this bastard,” Tate had told her in his car. “Meanwhile, corporate security will ensure no one comes near the offices or my condo who doesn’t have a reason to be there.”

  Anna sighed in relief at Tate’s willingness to get Grant Warwick involved. Grant was top notch, well regarded in Houston, and on call to the Ryder brothers for any task. But she also had to admit she was relieved at Tate’s admitted desire for her. She’d known for so long he wanted her, just as she had reciprocated the feeling. But after last night and its horrors, she had no energy left to argue with him. Nor did she really want to. She’d run from her problem for so many years that she was grateful for the respite this rendezvous with him offered her. How she’d deal with her situation now that he had declared he wanted to be involved with her, she couldn’t imagine.

  Later, for that, Annie.

  Enjoying the rock of the boat as it cruised over waves, she luxuriated in the comfort of the linens as she raised her legs to do her morning yoga stretches. But getting the tired kinks out of her limbs didn’t give her a bit of satisfaction. At the moment, all she wanted was to feel his arms around her again. Have him kiss her. Caress her. And to be honest, she needed his affection to kill the remnants of fear that had swamped her last night. So she wasn’t going to deny how much she wanted Tate Ryder. How much she yearned to possess him and be possessed by him.

  And that’s not going to happen if I stay here all day.

  But she balked at a different issue. Tate was experienced. Very. He’d been a football star, a handsome guy who had cut a swath through all sorts of ladies from co-eds to CEOs. Whereas, she’d had only three bed partners in her thirty-two years. If she got into bed with him and he didn’t find her interesting, she’d be mortified. True, for two years, she’d seen Tate’s hunger for her turn his navy-blue eyes to black. And his declaration last night was too sweet, too earnest to ignore. Courage in a relationship had to be a two way deal. So if she didn’t go to him now, she wouldn’t ever. And that loss she’d regret every day of her life.

  She swung her hips to one side and rose from the huge bed. Padding on bare feet, she reveled in the sumptuous pile of the tailored oriental beneath her toes and made her way to the hand-carved teak double doors leading to the bathroom. She’d been on his and Cord’s yacht a few times before for private parties. Never in the private master private bath, but she would definitely enjoy the rich amenities at her disposal now. Turning on the golden jets, she stepped into the hot shower, lathered up with lavender body soap and flexed her sore muscles, then stepped out to towel dry. Finding her comb and toothbrush in her bag in the bedroom, she donned one of the thick terrycloth robes hanging on the far tiled wall.

  Rustling through her suitcase, she found some French lingerie she’d been wise to bring, along with a pair of jeans and shorts, two tees and a sweater. There at the bottom of the bag sat her Sig Sauer. She’d dropped it in when Tate’s back was turned. Staring at the dull grey sheen, she hastily covered it with a pair of black panties. She wouldn’t need it. Wouldn’t. Shouldn’t. She was with Tate in the middle of the Gulf. She snatched up a lacey set of white bra and thong, plus the shorts and a tee. They’d do nicely.

  As she climbed the steps to the deck, the sun hit her hard. She shielded her face with one hand and with squinting eyes, searched for Tate. He was up on the bridge, seated on a super-wide captain’s chair. He looked over the bow, sunglasses on, white tee, dark deck pants, his blazing auburn hair tousled by the Gulf winds.

  She stepped up to join him and view the brilliant reflection of golden sun off blue-green water.

  When he sensed her, he turned. His grin was generous as he took in her brief outfit. “Hey, sleepy head. It’s almost one.”

  “I slept like the dead. Thanks to you.”

  He spun the wheel to head them toward a shoreline she could barely make out along the horizon. “You needed it. Up all night is not a good way to improve your health.”

  “I know. I don’t do it often.” She smiled at him, so close she felt his body heat, so near she wanted to kiss his shoulder, cup his cheek, and sink her fingers into his thick wavy red hair. Licking her lips, she said, “You should sleep yourself. You haven’t at all, have you?”

  He shook his head, then put his sunglasses on the dash. “Too much to do to get out of town.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “I’m grateful, even if I didn’t sound it last night.”

  He shot her a glance, his long-lashed dark navy eyes fierce. “’No’ was not an answer I was going to accept, Anna.”

  “Now that I’m here, I’m glad I didn’t dissuade you.”

  His features stilled. “Are you? God knows, I am.”

  She reached over and took one of his hands from the wheel. Then she turned up his palm and kissed him there. Her gaze met his and got lost in the fathomless depths. “I know I should have fought harder. I didn’t want to.”

  He breathed deeply, silent for a long second. “I was ready to carry you off like a caveman.”

  She chuckled and broke the heavy heat of their attraction. If she just jumped his bones she’d make a fool of herself, showing him how inexperienced she was. “Speaking of primal needs, I am starving. Is there food in the galley? Can I make us something?”

  “Yes. Lots to choose from. Wine, too, if you want. Make whatever you’d like. I’m going to kill the engine and drop anchor. We need to talk.”

  Awkward with the sexual tension, she was happy to busy herself and left him. Within minutes, she’d made an omelet with onions, peppers and tons of mozzarella. Tate came down from the bridge just as the cheese was melting.

  “Shall I open a bottle of wine?” he asked her as he approached the counter.

  “Not for me.” She turned the water on to wash her hands. “A Coke is good.”

  He turned to the refrigerator, pulled out two cans of soda and popped the tops.

  “Toast?” she asked him as she pulled two slices from the toaster.

  “One, please. Smells wonderful. I didn’t know you could cook.”

  “Eggs are on my Easy Peasy list. But in the interest of self-disclosure, I do many things well.” She brought both plates toward him and motioned for him to sit in the small booth near the kitchen table. Sliding into the banquette, she smiled up at him. Oh, he was so tanned, so taut, so handsome, such a ripe temptation. If he were food, she’d eat him instead of the damned eggs. She picked up her fork. “I bowl, I fence, I dance. And I admire you.”

  He took her hand, gently removed her fork from her fingertips and brought her palm up to his lips. And as she had done on deck, he turned her hand over and kissed her there with a lick of his tongue to follow. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and slid her toward him.

  “I need to kiss your mouth.” He put his lips to hers in such a delicate claim that she gave a sob of delight. He drew back and scooped up a forkful of egg to present it to her. “Have some egg.”

  She took it and ate.

  He got another bit and offered it to her. “Again. You are going to need lots of energy for what we’re going to do.”

 
She laughed and chewed and swallowed as fast as she could. “What could that be?”

  “Well,” he said and glanced into the distance. “We’re won’t bowl.”

  “No?”

  He arched a brow. “Or fence.”

  “Really?”

  “We’ll dance.” His dark navy blue eyes made a sensuous promise of it. “But not right now.”

  “No?”

  Shaking his head, he got another bit of egg and fed her.

  She swallowed and thought it tasted dry as dust. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I thought we’d cook.”

  She stared at him, disappointed, fighting down the need to strip him of his shirt and pants and anything else he might have on under there. “Cook. What?”

  “Us. Make us into a team.”

  What? Being a team didn’t sound sexy to her. Had she misread his intentions? Was he going to save her from that stalker but not make love to her? Had she dreamed up his interest in her? Didn’t he care for her? Was she that wrong?

  Oh, she’d been a fool. She looked at her hands in her lap. “I told myself I shouldn’t be with you.”

  “Wait. What? Are you talking about employer-employee ethics?”

  She shrugged. Sure. Why not take that tack? It saved some face. “Of course.”

  He narrowed his gaze on her. “You’re serious.”

  She nodded. Moved away from him.

  He laughed. And hauled her back toward him. “Look at me. Please.”

  She was holding her pride together with sheer will power. Where was the humor here?

  “You’re fired.”

  “What?” The word was no sooner out of her mouth than she saw he was joking.

  He ran his fingers through the hair over her ear. “I stayed away from you because it was the right thing to do. And you seemed to be okay with that. I didn’t want to spook you and send you flying away from me. I needed to see you each day. More and more, you become essential to me.”

  She had to be certain he was interested in her. So she ventured out with another thought. “What happened to the famous football star who bedded lots of women?”

  “Ah.” He pushed her curls behind her ear. “That guy doesn’t live here anymore.”

  “The papers haven’t run any stories lately about Red Ryder and his bevy of girlfriends.”

  “The reason for that is you.”

  She caught her breath.

  He framed her face with his hands. “Anna, I haven’t wanted another woman in so long, haven’t even been with one in so long that I wonder if I’m gonna be able to make you happy.”

  She burst out laughing. “Big bold Red Ryder? You can’t mean that!”

  “No?” He stood up, walked around to her side of the table and pulled her up into his arms. “Only one way to find out!”

  She giggled.

  “Not good to laugh at a cave man, baby!” Then he flung her over his shoulder, her ass in the air.

  “I need food!” she objected, chuckling, gulping, upside down. “You said so.”

  He pivoted, clutching her legs with one arm and clamping a hand on her ass. “Fine! Pick up the plates and let’s go. My appetite is growing—among other things, and damned if I can wait any longer to be satisfied.”

  “You are bossy,” she babbled at him as he made his way down the hall, turned and headed for the master bedroom.

  “Do not forget it, either.”

  “I’m losing our lunch!” she complained as she tried to hold the plates upright and catch bits from one plate with another as they fell to the floor.

  “But you’re so coordinated!”

  “I’ll show you coordinated, Tate Ryder.”

  “Damn straight, you will. Here.” Now in the bedroom, he turned and offered her the dresser top for her plates. Then, he up-ended her and slowly slid her down his torso until her face was level with his and her mouth was a hair’s width away from his. “Want more eggs before we do this?”

  She curled her arms around his neck, breathless from his dear, ardent declarations. “No, I just want you inside me, all over me, all around me. I’ve wanted you since I was born, since I couldn’t stand to look at you and not weep inside because you were off limits.”

  “That means I’ve got a lot to make up for.” He grinned at her.

  She pulled his hair. “You do. So hurry.”

  He kissed her quickly and let her slide down his body. But his eyes were misty with a raw emotion she’d never seen on his face. It stunned her. Humbled her. As he framed her cheeks with two big hot hands, he brushed his lips over hers as if she were priceless glass. “I’m gonna make this so good for you.”

  Then he kissed her, gently as if he were an angel come to bless her. Madly, as if he were a devil come to absorb her.

  She spun in the vortex of his desire. As he pushed up her tee-shirt, she got her balance and raised her arms. He flung the garment to the floor, plucked open the button of her shorts, then circled his hands around her back to unhook her bra. She skimmed her hands down her hips, pushing her shorts over the swell to let them drop to the floor and just stood there as his gaze swept down her body.

  “You are so lovely.” He lifted her breasts, his thumbs defining the circumference of her nipples as he bent her back, lifted her to meet the homage of his warm and careful mouth. “So perfect. I’ve stayed awake nights wanting these in my hands and my mouth.”

  She clutched at his massive shoulders as he hooked one of her legs over his hip and sent his hand down her waist, over the flat of her stomach to peel down the flimsy thong and sink his hand over her throbbing mound.

  “Oh, god,” he groaned and shuddered as his hot palm cupped her and paused. “You’re bare.”

  She clutched. “Do you like that?”

  “Oh, baby. How could I not? You’re soft and slick and swollen. All mine.”

  She made a sound of joy. Nothing in the world compared to the delight of his fingers sliding between her folds, finding her center and sinking inside.

  He growled and lifted her, arms under her legs, and took two steps to lay her out on his bed. Cool air rushed over her skin as he stood over her, his eyes wide and greedy as he looked his fill.

  She put her arms out for him to display as much of herself as she could for his enjoyment.

  His gaze raked her from head to toe, her nipples beading, her core flowing with rich desire. Any remaining anxiety fled as she watched him strip himself of his shirt. His broad, golden shoulders gleamed with perspiration. His pecs rippled. His hips were sculpted, lean cords of sinew that curved down to his groin, where his penis stood boldly erect. He was huge and everything she’d imaged about his girth was true. She moaned, wanting that part of him inside her. She breathed hard in impatience as he opened a dresser drawer, removed a string of condoms, and in one move, tore open a packet, and in another, rolled the latex up his long shaft.

  He put a knee to the mattress, another between her thighs, hovering over her like a muscular jungle cat. Her big red lion, she mused in some vague and sensuous fantasy. Primal now too, she arched up to him, her arms reaching for his shoulders. Bending, he took her lips in one kiss after another.

  Just as she began to rub her breasts against his, he caught her hands, pushed them to her side against the bed and lavished kisses down her throat to her cleavage, her nipples and her navel. Sinking between her legs, he pressed his mouth to her inner thigh and licked the hollow with a reverence that drove her nuts. And he stopped.

  She sucked in air.

  “Look at me, Anna.” He lifted her chin with two fingers. “No man has ever kissed you here, has he?”

  She bit her lip, shook her head. “No. But would you? Please? I’ve dreamed of you there.”

  “Oh, honey,” he sighed and bent over her. Taking his damn slow time, he nuzzled her, opened her, treasured her with his lips and teeth and tongue, driving her to loll her head against the bed. And when she bucked and cried out, her body throbbing, demanding more, he pause
d.

  She gasped. In the faint light, through her haze of desire, she watched him as he locked his eyes to hers. He inserted one, two, three fingers inside her warm, wet channel. And he rocked her into a new wild rhythm.

  She grabbed his wrist. “Come inside me. Make love to me now or I am going to die right here!”

  He was swift, up on his knees, spreading her wide in a heartbeat. He positioned his cock near the entrance to her core and as he sank inside, she cried out, pulsing, fulfilled and yet not.

  Helpless, she vibrated in his embrace. Her fingernails dug into his arms.

  “And that’s only the beginning. Here’s the rest.”

  She gasped at the size of him. The blunt, steely girth of him. The raw joy of him raising her knees and watching him lean back and hook her legs over his arms. His teeth were gritted, his eyes hell-dark as he plunged deeper with each thrust and set her body on fire for him. She panted, her body rippling with delight as she came and he followed her into the flames, driving her to frenzy. He paused, shuddered, shouted as he came with hard thrusts, then draped his long hot body over hers.

  He pulled her to his arms. His lips were in her hair. “I wanted you. Never hoped I’d get you. But last night,” he whispered and gazed down to where their bodies were still joined. “I couldn’t see you hurt. Couldn’t walk away.”

  She kissed his throat. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  He sighed. “I never thought having any woman could feel like this. But then, none of them was ever you.”

  She strained closer to him. How perfect could this be?

  Chapter Four

  He wrapped his arms around her and swung to lay on his side. Every pore, every muscle, every inch of his body had just discovered some elixir. Some kind of magic. He had to laugh at this because it was what she personified and what she worked at—she brought him to a nirvana he’d ever known before.

  Cord had told him this would happen once Tate found the right woman. He hadn’t believed him.

  But in walked Anna Stevens to his office one morning two years ago to interview for a job as yoga instructor. He’d been struck by her grace. Her long-legged, taut body. Her discussion of what yoga could do for a person’s outlook and fitness. He was lost. Enchanted. Tate Ryder. The man who could not be cornered or tied down by any woman had been possessed by an intelligent creature who wanted no part of him.