For possibly the millionth time since my first sexual encounter with him, my jaw drops. He can’t be serious. A disbelieving laugh sputters out. “Tanner, my friends are back at that cabana.”
“They’re grown women. They’ll understand.”
“What?” I laugh harder. “You honestly expect me to just stroll in there and excuse myself to the bedroom so I can have phone sex with my boyfr—with the man I’m currently screwing?”
“Don’t you think you’re over exaggerating just a bit?” He smiles, completely pleased with himself.
My face turns sour. I reach over and punch his shoulder. “A little Anya Banks 101 for you, Mr. Christensen. I can be a drama queen when I’m pushed to my limits.”
“Don’t tell me for one second you aren’t tightly wound after having my hands on you back there. Don’t even attempt to pretend you don’t need or want the release. I want you to have it, you know you need it, and I insist on hearing it. Either that, or I can take you into the bedroom and finish what I started myself.” He shifts in his seat, adjusting his groin. “In fact, I prefer that option.”
“You’re late. Isn’t that why you’re driving me back to the cabana like a bat out of hell right now?”
“I am my own boss, Miss Banks.”
“Then turn this car around and take us back to your house, and you can finish what you started there.”
His smile grows on one side, all crooked and sexy. “Oh, it’d most certainly be my pleasure, baby. Sadly, I truly have no time to take you back to the house and spoil you. It’s a quick fuck in the cabana, you on the phone with me, or nothing at all. The choice is yours.”
“Well, thank you, Mr. King of Everything, for being so generous.”
He reaches out to give my bare knee a squeeze. “What’ll it be, Miss Banks?”
“I refuse to answer that.” I puff my lip out and look away.
“Do you want to know what your boss said when I spoke to him this morning?”
I whip my head to the side, bouncing it off the leather headrest. “What? Tanner!”
“Ted’s a good guy. A little pretentious, but I like him.”
“Please tell me you didn’t.”
“Oh, I did.”
I turn my body in the seat. “And?”
“And I’ll tell you as soon as you make your choice.”
“You cannot be serious.”
“The power of manipulation, baby,” he says matter-of-factly, his grin wide and contented. “And influence.”
“Fine. The cabana. Now, please tell me what you said to Ted.”
We wind around a familiar curve in the road, and civilization starts to come into view. The tops of the cabanas are peeking up in the distance. “I simply told him I’m impressed with how knowledgeable you are about my ship, and that I’d love for you to write the review.”
“I don’t know anything about your ship!”
“You said you researched a bit.”
“Yeah, like where it docks, how it ranks in comparison to other cruise liners…basic stuff. Not enough to steal Lana’s feature right from underneath her, Tanner. She’s my best friend! And she’s assistant editor!”
“Exactly. Which is why she’ll be thrilled for you.”
“She’s been looking forward to writing this review. Please, call Ted back and tell him you’ve changed your mind.”
“I added that you’ll be interviewing me tonight. That sealed the deal. The feature’s yours.”
“I don’t want the feature! Lana does.”
“You do, you just don’t know it yet.”
My hands fly up in exasperation. “Tanner Christensen, you might know how to read my body, but you do not know me, and I’m telling you, it’s important to me that Lana does the review.”
His smile begins to fade and he turns pensive again. We roll up to the cabanas and come to a stop, and I wait, expecting who knows what. This man not only intrigues me, he also flat-out baffles the hell out of me. “If it really means that much to you, I’ll speak to Ted again.”
“It does. It does mean that much to me.”
“After I have my way with you in the cabana.” He doesn’t give me a second to respond, just quickly hops out of the car and jogs around to open my door. A sigh of relief shuttles through me and I step out, letting him lead me inside. We find the cabana empty, no Lana or Brie in sight. “All alone,” he murmurs, taking hold of my wrist to guide me toward the tiny bedroom. I peek out the sliding door as he whisks me aside, searching for any signs of them. Must be out on the beach.
As quickly as Tanner shuts and locks the door, he pulls me to the edge of the bed and whips my bikini bottom off, his hand sliding up my spine and tangling in my hair. He gets a good grip and roughly pulls at his belt. He turns my back to his front. “Bend over, Anya.” I bravely decide to turn around and face him. My eyes find his in the dim light. The blinds are drawn and all I can make out is the striking blue of his irises and the wild mess of blond atop his head. He watches intently for a second.
“Tanner?”
“What is it, baby?”
“You don’t have time to spoil me.”
“I don’t.” His gaze flicks down my body, then back up. He licks his lips.
“That’s okay, but can…can you give it to me slowly?”
“You want gentle right now?”
“Yes,” I answer quietly, holding his gaze. I know we don’t have much time, but I don’t want rough right now. I want to feel every push, every pull, want to watch him worship my body the way he did the first time he took me in his bed. I’ve never had a man touch me like that, and the discovery is dangerously addictive.
His shoulders loosen and he steps forward, bringing his mouth down on mine. He makes a delicious sound in his throat as he meets my lips. “Mmmm I’ve already spoiled you, it seems.”
I grin. “You have.”
“Well, let’s see what we can do for you, Miss Banks.” He bends his knees and lifts me, carefully depositing me on the bed. He briskly lets his suit jacket drop to the floor and undoes his pants, reaching for his cock. He begins stroking himself, hard and precise, watching me as he hovers over the side of the bed. Studying me from head to toe, he crawls on top of me and kisses my navel, reaching up to slowly tug at my bikini top. His fingers pull gently, and he watches the strings unravel, eyes flaring when the triangles slide away from my skin.
I grasp at his shoulders, waiting to feel him push his way inside, but it seems he has other plans. He resumes stroking himself and his head drifts down, baby blues glued to my bare breasts. They dance upward, locking with mine, and then he lowers his mouth to the junction of my thighs. His tongue touches down on my sensitive skin and my back bows, my entire body on fire. He licks gently, then sucks, then licks again, setting a deliberate pattern. His hands slide down the tops of my thighs as he settles between them, and the pressure of his tongue increases, the pattern picking up speed.
My fingers find my hair, twisting and playing with the ends while my eyes drift shut. The soft graze of his teeth against my clit sends my hands down to his shoulders, the pads of my fingers pressing urgently into his skin. With that one small, subtle sensation, he’s brought me higher, closer, and my hips instinctually rise to meet the pressure. Distant laughter sounds from somewhere in the cabana, followed by the closing of a door, and my eyelids float open.
“You’re going to have to keep quiet, Anya,” Tanner mouths against me, the heat of his breath sparking luscious shots of pleasure. His tongue touches down again and he immediately picks up the pace while he holds my thighs down with his strong hands. I push his head harder against me and let out a muffled groan, shattering the quiet of the room as my head rolls to the side, pressing down into the mattress. My hips begin to buck and his hands clamp down on my thighs, grip rigid and unyielding to the tremble of my legs. Each caress of his tongue is determined but careful, rolling against my skin like soft, scorching, melted caramel and sweeping like fine silk.
The
voices grow louder just outside the bedroom door, but I can’t think, can’t register anything other than the decadence Tanner’s bathing me in with his skilled tongue. Two more strokes and I break, the force so strong it has the power to snap my spine in two. Tanner’s hand reaches up and cups tightly over my mouth, but his tongue doesn’t let up just yet. He waits, carefully easing off the pressure until my hips begin to slow, until my body floats back down to the mattress and returns to planet Earth.
My breath begins to calm against his palm, my nostrils still flaring hard from the exertion. He lifts his head and promptly climbs over me, straddling my torso. He positions my arms at the sides of my head, pinning my wrists next to my ears. “Don’t move,” he orders gruffly, releasing my wrists. He gropes my breasts and reaches down to stroke himself again, but this time he’s in a hurry. His gaze is blazing, slicing into me as he stares down, pumping his hand faster and faster, positioning his cock over my chest. The muscles in his neck flex, his jaw grinding, his free hand continuously rubbing at my curves. He calls me a work of art, but the sight above me right now is a fucking masterpiece. I can’t tear my eyes away.
Another panty melting groan careens from his lips and his throat constricts, his mouth falling slack. I want to sit up, want to taste him, but he’s so incredibly yummy right where he is, I don’t even attempt to move, just wait and watch. My mind spins from the show, marveling at how he’s gone from gentle lover to fierce savage with the flip of a switch—giving me exactly what I want and exactly what he needs in just a few minutes time. I bite down on my bottom lip and my eyes land on his, begging him to use me, spurring him on. I want nothing more in this moment than to be his canvas, the visual that brings him where he wants to be.
His head falls forward and he bites back a moan, pressing his lips tightly together as he rocks his hips. The moisture between my thighs a moment ago is nothing now that he’s on top of me, beating his cock between his fist. I’m soaking, more desperate than ever to feel him deep, filling me completely. Wet, hot warmth spreads over my chest, and Tanner’s waist jerks, his hips rocking fast. All of his control cracks. He convulses above me, dropping to rest on his other palm. His eyes are fixed on my breasts, waiting until he empties himself completely on me before he looks up, meeting my hazy gaze.
He bends down to whisper in my ear. “Fucking beautiful.” We both shift as the bedroom doorknob jiggles. The rattle ceases and hushed laughter sounds from the other side of the door. Tanner turns back to me, staring down with laughter in his eyes.
“Looks like you’ll be doing the walk of shame, Mr. Christensen,” I chuckle.
“My cock is satisfied, I can still taste your pussy, and I’ve marked you.” He places his palm on my chest and smears the sticky wetness around with a pleased smirk. “No shame in that, baby.”
I blanch. Why, oh why, has no man ever talked to me this way? I feel as if I’ve been eating fast food for the past nine years when I could’ve been eating freshly prepared gourmet. Deprivation should be a sin. “Lana is merciless. I hope it was worth it.”
“Oh, it was most certainly worth it.” He plants a kiss on my lips and hops up to button his pants and lift his suit jacket from the floor. “See you this evening, Miss Banks?”
“It’s a date.” I lean up to sit on my elbows. “I’m still getting my interview, right?”
“Well, you’ve spread your legs for me…” He looks up to the ceiling thoughtfully, fastening his top button. I launch a pillow at him. It smacks him in the stomach and a quirk of his lips gives away his poorly restrained sarcasm.
I smile. “Go on, get out. Your services are no longer needed.”
“We’ll see about that.” He slings his suit jacket over his shoulder, turning coolly on his heel for the door. I hear him greet Lana and Brie cordially, his tone instantly shifting back into business mode. They greet him back, and much to my surprise, Lana doesn’t deliver any sharp retort to the man. I scramble off the bed and pluck my bikini from the floor, then dart into the bathroom to wash up. I have no idea what I’ll learn tonight about Tanner Christensen, the successful cruise ship owner, but I do know an important fact already, one that makes my head swim and my toes curl.
He knows how to satisfy me in ways no man ever has.
SEVEN
My light blue cocktail dress hits just above my knees, and I’ve finished off the look with a pair of cream peep-toe pumps. My hair is tossed up into a loose, sexy up-do, and my make-up is light and natural. Since boarding the ship this evening, I’ve managed to make a pit stop at our cabin to change and make a list of interview questions for Tanner. I’m determined to have my questions answered before he sweeps me off to his place. I know the minute we make it through his door, I’ll be caught in his seductive web, so it’s imperative I pry the information from him before the champagne begins to flow.
I left Lana and Brie to their food fest back at the cabana, and I told them not to wait up. After Tanner left this morning, they both pestered me for details, but I didn’t divulge much. It was much too fun torturing them. If all goes as planned, I’ll wake deliciously sore and relaxed in Tanner’s bed in the morning, and then head back to the island for a lazy day in the sun at his beach house.
The hostess greets me with menus in hand as I enter the posh restaurant.
“I’m meeting someone,” I say with a polite smile. “Tanner Christensen?”
Her eyes widen and she grins brightly. “Oh! Of course. Miss Banks, I presume?”
“Yes.”
“Right this way, please.” She gestures for me to follow and takes the lead, directing me around a corner and along a bar, stopping when she reaches a corner booth. It’s very private, tucked away and shrouded in a cusp of dark green foliage, its seats ink-black leather. Tanner sees me and stands, adjusting his baby blue tie. His eyes rake down my body and a pleased smile curls his mouth on one side.
“That color is stunning on you,” he says, extending a hand to help me scoot into the booth.
“We match.”
“That we do.” He raises a finger to gesture to the nearby waitress and she comes scuttling over, looking as flustered as I felt the moment Tanner first welcomed me into his bedroom.
“It’s a pleasure to serve you tonight, Mr. Christensen. What can I bring you?”
“Miss Banks will take your finest red, please, and I’ll have the same.” He nods to me, and the waitress quickly acknowledges me, nodding her head.
“Yes, sir. Coming right up, Miss Banks.”
“Thank you,” I say, slipping my napkin onto my lap. I cross my legs and my stomach does somersaults. I’ve obeyed his instructions—no panties, easy access. But I’m just as giddy about the interview, that I’m going to get to pick Tanner Christensen’s brain. I reach for my notepad from my clutch and click my pen. “Shall we start?” Tanner leans back, his arms falling casually onto his lap. He watches me, face earnest, eyes churning with something I can’t quite make out. “Or would you rather eat first?”
“Are you bare? Under that dress.”
“Yes.” I gulp and set the notepad down. I click my pen again.
His sapphire irises simmer, darkening as they assess me. “Good. You kept your word, I’ll keep mine.”
“Then I’d like to begin.”
“Shoot, Miss Banks. I’m all yours.” He reaches for his glass of water and takes a sip, settling back against the leather seat. His strong shoulders are distracting, contoured to his suit jacket, which fits him impeccably.
“Why were you once afraid of the ocean?”
He gingerly sets his water down and swallows. A stretch of silence spreads between us. “It reminded me of all of the things I didn’t want to be.”
I begin scribbling on my notepad, absorbing his response. “What didn’t you want to be? Elaborate.”
“Some things are better left to sleep, Miss Banks.”
“Tanner,” I roll my head slightly and look up, “you promised.”
“I promised you an interview,
and I’m granting you one. I never specified what I would and would not discuss.”
“You were very specific. You said you’d tell me the reason over dinner.”
He licks his lips and wipes a hand over his jaw, where a sheen of stubble is beginning to grow. It’s sexy yet starkly unnatural for a man who always appears so clean cut. “Let me ask you something, Miss Banks. Were you ever afraid of something as a child—afraid of the dark, for example—and then found that the dark follows you? That fear, that thing, whatever it was you were afraid of, somehow morphed into something else the longer it had power over you. As time went on, it was no longer just the dark you were afraid of. It was no longer that simple. Instead it spread, until eventually everything and anything that even subtly reminded you of that fear also became a threat. New fears were bred from a single one, and the problem suddenly became much worse because of it. Can you relate to that in any way?”
I study him for a moment, the way his fingers tap and trace the bottom of his water glass, the way his arm rests on the table, so poised, so controlled. “Sure, I guess.”
“Then you can understand why I choose not to revisit the subject. Why I choose not to elaborate. I refuse to talk about it anymore because talking about it gives it power.”
“I disagree.”
“How so?”
“Holding it in is what gives it power.”
“It seems we’ll just have to agree to disagree.”
I wiggle my dress down my thighs and shift, blowing out a breath. “If by your own admission you’ve conquered that fear, though—owned it, as you said before—then what’s the harm in discussing it further?”
“Owning it means acknowledging I have control over what I do with it. And I choose to put it away. It’s been dealt with. It’s right where it belongs.” His jaw hardens and hackles raise, and tension snaps like a rubber band between us, slapping me in the face.
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