Valerie Vincent had been listening to not only her attorney but her husband and the political strategist for Ross Richardson tell her the same thing. Go before the public and plead distressed mother. Let them believe that she acted as she did because of all the stress and work involved in putting together a dream wedding for your only child and daughter. She’d look at all three of the men like they’d lost what little minds they had left but nodded obediently.
“Ms. Summers,” the name was drawn out, low and deliberately uncertain. “You’re a close friend of my daughters’.”
“I’m also a journalist,” Vianne said carefully, listening to the voice and recalling the woman she’d known for a few years. Not well, but familiar enough with to know when she was acting. “I strive for balance as well as truth. I don’t like seeing you and Erika at odds. You’ve always been close and I know this is hurting her as well as you.”
“I appreciate your concern. If I thought I could get through to Erika…” she sighed heavily, as if struggling with her decision. “Yes. I’ll speak with you. Only you and your camera person. Would tomorrow afternoon be alright? I think I want time to compose myself.”
“Tomorrow afternoon would be fine. Let’s say two? And just me and a camera person,” Vianne pulled a notepad close and began scribbling questions to lead up to others that she wanted to prod the woman about. “Thank you, Mrs. Vincent. Good day.”
She snapped the phone closed and did a triumphant little seat wiggle as she scrawled a few more questions. It wasn’t until the deep sound of a throat clearing that she remembered she wasn’t alone in the apartment.
Damn. That was going to take some adjusting to, considering she liked wandering around her place in nothing but panties at times in the summer.
“A problem?” Vianne asked with a little frown as she wrote and renumbered her questions.
“Why her?”
“Because her husband turned me down. Because there’s nothing I can use to get Wayne to answer questions and because since she was the one to drug Erika, she knows what’s going on. I’ve known her as long as I’ve known Erika and I don’t see Valerie ever doing anything without something in it for her. And believe me, she is not the type to blindly follow orders just because her husband says so,” Vianne looked over at him, framed in the light of the setting sun in the open patio door. For a second her brain registered something he said and she laughed. “Did you use the word vanilla regarding Wayne?”
“Unfamiliar with the term?” Tanner asked quietly, arching a brow at the flush of color flooding his new bride’s face. A woman he had imagined familiar with just about anything the world had to offer, both mainstream and less than.
“Of course not,” she turned back to her computer. “It’s a common enough term used in sexual conversations,” her eyes fell on the rings that now adorned her finger and the past few days and nights she’d spent with her new husband.
“Hmm...” Tanner grinned at the slight flush of color tinting her cheeks. “My, my…something that embarrasses you?”
“I’m not embarrassed. I’m working,” she returned flippantly.
“So you’re immersed in work,” Tanner moved quietly behind her, his fingers toying with the silky strands of mixed yellows and golds. His fingers trailed softly along the column of her throat, onto her shoulder and back, just the barest of touches. Just enough of a hint to make her shiver. “Not paying the least bit of attention to me. Or where my hands might go…or my mouth.”
Vianne’s hands froze over the keyboard of her laptop, her lower lip pulled between her teeth when his hands pressed from her waist to her breasts and cupped them both. At the same time, his tongue trailed a damp line along her throat. She started to move her hands when he squeezed her breasts just a little tighter and his mouth moved to her ear.
Tanner bit down sharply on her ear, his voice firm and level. A confident, commanding tone that pulled compliance from her.
“Push the laptop back and put your hands flat on the table, Vianne,” he felt her shiver, her breathing hitched slightly but she did what he said. He stared down at the slender fingers, the one with his ring on it holding his attention for a quiet minute. Mine, he thought possessively. And while he felt a part of her still arguing with the entire arrangement, her body and mind reacted to his in a way he could only dream of.
“Tanner…”
He liked the slight quiver of uncertainty in her voice and smiled, drawing his tongue along her throat.
“Shh…close your eyes, Vianne,” he murmured against her throat. “I can feel your pulse when it jumps.” His lips brushed the thumping point before nipping lightly and moving up to her ear. His hands moved around her body, fingers deftly opening the tunic she’d worn that morning. “You’re not used to giving up your control.”
“I…no…no, I’m not,” she answered after a hesitant pause. She knew it excited her. His voice was low and seemed to caress her without physical contact. Her heart was pounding suddenly, her breathing a little too uneven, she realized. A gasp broke free when his fingers stroked around the cups of her bra. He didn’t touch anything but the delicate edge of lace on the swell of her breasts, tracing a line over them once, and then once more.
“Every time your pulse jumps, I can tell how aroused you are,” he kept his voice low, his tone level and caressing.
Vianne shivered and knew it had nothing to do with the weather. How had this man gotten so inside her head? Her eyes flew wide and her hand moved to the open tunic when he pulled the sides fully apart.
Tanner took advantage, quickly sliding the tunic down her arms to let it fall on the chair behind her. Then his palms went to her hands and replaced them on the table, his fingers gently spreading hers and pressing them flat.
“No moving, Vianne, unless I say and where,” he instructed firmly.
“I…the patio doors…”
“I seriously doubt the seagulls care how we play in our own living area,” he said with a soft laugh. His fingers trailed up her arms, gratified when her hands remained where he’d placed them. “Stand up, Vianne. No…hands flat.”
“What are you doing, Tanner?” Vianne couldn’t stop the hesitant, suspicion in her voice, even as it shook just a little with excitement. She stood up slowly, never moving her hands while he rolled the desk chair out of their way.
“Playing,” he answered simply, his hands going to the button on her slacks. He popped it free and then slid the zipper down, carefully pushing the edges over her hips and letting them fall to the floor.
Who knew his wife had more than a trace of submissive in her? It had been awhile since he’d indulged that side of him but with Vianne before him, willing and exposed, it all came sweeping back into him with a rush of excitement. The very thought of play with Vianne sent shockwaves of a very potent current straight to both his brains.
“I think the idea of not being in control excites you,” he came to stand behind her, pressing his cock against her lower back. “Your breathing hitches each time I touch you, stroke you…”
“I know what you’re doing,” she whispered, unable to hide the very things he found erotic. The hard length of his cock was difficult to ignore when he spread his palms over her stomach and pulled her back against him.
“Do you?” His amusement showed in his words. “What do you think I’m doing?”
“This is about the word vanilla,” she returned, her body freezing when his palms slid down her stomach, one hand gliding straight inside the low front of her panties. Before she realized it, his fingers had moved between her thighs, cupping her mons and dragging one long finger back through the hot moisture. When did that happen? She groaned softly.
“This is about discovering the hidden depths of my wife. I think I might need to find a pair of fleece lined cuffs,” Tanner’s words whispered low over the pulse of her throat. His hand continued to stroke through the damp cleft while the other palm cupped one breast with a gentle stroke beneath the small tear drop shape. �
�Now that’s a surprise. Who knew we’d be so perfectly matched, Vianne.”
“I…you’re not serious…”
“Oh, I am serious,” he laughed huskily, his teeth nipped along her shoulder and back to her ear. “Your reactions tell me you aren’t adverse to the play, Vianne. Have you ever experimented?”
Tanner watched her pull her lower lip between her teeth and felt her tense up.
“Do you think anything you tell me about your past will affect how I feel about you? Spread your feet, Vianne…” He nudged one of her feet with one of his. “A little more, babe…perfect,” he said when she did as she was told. He braced her body against his, letting his palms roam very lightly over her skin. “If you hadn’t ever been to a formal BDSM club or involved in the play, then one of the primary protocols is communication. About everything. I saw the vibrator in the drawer by the bed when I put some condoms in there,” his hands tightened when her body jolted and she tried moving. “No, love, I want you straightened up…against me…but stand still.”
He tipped his head enough to peer down the length of her body. His foot moved between hers, nudging gently, just a little more.
“You’re squirming, Vianne. Hold still.” A surge of emotion coursed through him when her compliance came instantly. “You are familiar with a dom/sub relationship,” he commented softly.
“I’ve done a story on a club in San Francisco a few years back,” she answered after the slightest hesitation. She swallowed and let her head lean against the solid chest behind her. “I…I know the words and the general…umm…” she lost her train of thought when his palm slid back beneath the front of her panties to stroke through the pulsing, swollen cleft.
“The general what, Vianne?” He pressed, his tone unyielding.
“Tanner…” his name rushed out, overflowing with need.
He spread the moisture, swirling his fingers just outside her opening.
“Not very focused, pet,” he chastised in a gentle murmur, the heat shooting through her at his touch and his words spreading hotly through his clothing and straight to his cock.
“You’re distracting,” she returned tartly but didn’t try and move from his hold or his touch. She did try adjusting her hips, sliding them a little forward in an attempt to get him to touch her clit. The man was seriously erotic and it seemed to take very little for him to get her aroused and ready to explode.
She’d come to enjoy talking with him and he made her laugh even when she was exhausted from a long trip. She had wanted to spend time talking to him in chat or email over the last few months. And now he was there, with her, and hers. A part of her brain was still working through how it had all happened around her so quickly.
“Definitely cuffs,” he murmured, removing his palm from her pussy and doing nothing but holding her in place.
“Tanner!”
“Hands back on the desk,” he said simply. “Lean forward, Vianne. Good girl…press that sexy ass against my cock…Christ, you feel good.”
Fire flared in his eyes when she did as he instructed. As a reward, he flattened his palm on her stomach, fingers teasing and light as they continued lower. This time, he allowed his fingertips to draw soft little circles just outside the throbbing nub of her clit.
Vianne melted against him, her fingers strained to keep from scratching gouges in her antique desk. She couldn’t explain why her body reacted to his words, his touch as strongly as it did. She remembered the story she did several years back. She also remembered the uncomfortable arousal she refused to explore or explain to herself.
“Such heavy thoughts,” Tanner brought one palm up and let one breast perch just in the center. Now and then he’d send his thumb over the tiny pink nipple. “I love your breasts. See how this one just floats above my palm? Like a dewdrop first thing in the morning before the sun fully rises, the pert nipple reaching for the sky.”
Vianne had no idea how dragging one finger around the underside of her breast could be so erotic, so packed with wild sensations that her breathing fell to next to nothing. Then he took the nipple between a finger and thumb at the same time his fingers drove hard and fast inside her pussy and she lost it all.
Tanner felt her body stiffen. Her fingers curled into taut fists and she screamed his name, her head turning into his shoulder. Ragged, deep breaths were gulped in again and again. The thrusting of his fingers matched the rise and fall of her chest and the taut convulsions that gripped him over and over. He kept his arms tight around her when all her muscles went slack at the same time.
He lifted her against him, carrying her to the sofa and sinking down with her cradled in his lap. Tanner pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa, wrapping her in it before tipping her face to his for a long, lingering kiss.
“That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Vianne,” he murmured against her mouth, tucking her closer and closing his eyes. There was no way she could miss the hard length of his cock pressing against her soft ass. But they had all night. And more. The last hour had been to satisfy his curiosity and her pleasure. Their sex life would never contain the word vanilla, that was one thing he was certain of.
The emotions careening through her were too varied even as she tried settling her mind and heartbeat. She was naked. Lying in his lap wrapped in a blanket and feeling the sweetest contentment she’d ever known in her life. After having stood in the middle of her living room for the last hour while she allowed a man to stroke and arouse her, physical and verbally. It was incredible and unlike anything she’d ever known before.
“Why did you do that, Tanner?”
He didn’t pretend to not understand her question.
“Because you let me. Because your trust is an amazing gift,” he answered honestly, kissing her softly and meeting the confused stare with a smile. “You liked what you learned when you did that story, didn’t you, Vianne?”
“I think I was curious,” she admitted slowly, drawing her tongue around her lips.
“But not curious enough to explore it?” He knew enticing her to talk would probably be his biggest hurdle. Simply based on what society taught people, discussing sex was the most difficult part of their lives and the most important. Yet few people were taught how or encouraged to. With a dominant, it was vital and necessary. Words were equally if not more erotic than simple touch. “Does it bother you to talk about our sex life?”
“It shouldn’t, should it?” She said with a puzzled little shake of her head. “Let’s say the few partners I’ve had in the past weren’t interested in talking. As for the other question, I never met anyone I trusted enough to even bring up…that…or talk about the things I saw and thought about.”
Tanner closed his eyes, taking in the words and knowing just how valuable a gift her trust had been. “I’ll never betray your trust, Vianne.”
She knew she was drifting in and out of sleep, a pleasant drowsy feeling when he carried her into their bedroom. His eyes were closed when she lifted her head and stroked her palm over the side of his face before kissing him and snuggling against him.
“Don’t let me go, Tanner,” she whispered sleepily. She never saw the small contented smile on his lips or felt the kiss he dropped on her forehead before letting himself sleep finally.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“I swear I will be careful, Tanner,” Vianne glared at him over the coffee mug. “I’m not a rookie.”
“You’ve managed to piss off more than a couple people with this investigation, Vianne.”
“Politicians generally buy silence, Tanner, not murder it. It puts a crimp in the whole political career thing,” she tried teasing him. The tension in his eyes made her want to just let him hold her to try and soothe him. “I’ll be very careful. I’ll probably have Ryan with me and we’ve worked together for the last few years. He’s pretty good at spotting trouble.”
“I still don’t like it,” he answered, shoving against the counter and pacing. He took in the simple skirt and blouse she w
ore, muted colors. Sedate and professional. Nothing that would draw the viewers’ attention from the target she was interviewing. He grunted when she walked behind him, her arms around his waist. “Don’t think you can use your wicked feminine wiles on me. I am not happy with this whole situation.”
“I bet I could,” she teased, laughing until he turned and griped her shoulders, lifting until only her toes were touching the ground. “Tanner…”
“Your safety isn’t something I’ll ever take lightly, Vianne. Someone tailed us home last night. You’ve deliberately set yourself up as bait to draw them off Erika,” he said quietly. “I would like a call every couple hours. I’d call you, but I don’t want to interrupt the loose ends you’re tying up with the station and I’ll be in the new office getting things arranged. Can you give me that, please?”
“Tanner, I’ll be careful,” she promised the instant he stopped speaking. “And yes, I will call you every couple hours, I promise. I’ll be at the Vincent estate from about one-forty five until we finish the interview and I’ll text or call to let you know when I’m leaving.” She felt the floor slowly reappear beneath her feet and breathed a sigh of relief. “The things I have to tie up at the station are all in-house and nothing more than paperwork. I’m not taking on new assignments, merely wrapping things up and handing them off.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
“I didn’t do this to worry you, Tanner.”
“I know that, Vianne. I guess I never fully grasped how the assignments you’ve worked would feel from the inside,” Tanner brought his hands up, framing her face and kissing her. It was soft at first, the hunger building in a way that had been throwing his equilibrium off with each kiss they shared. “I love you and I want my wife in one piece. I’ll be at the new office should you want to surprise me wearing nothing but a trench coat and sexy undies.”
WindSwept Narrows: #22 Erika & Vianne Page 26
