Docked

by Wade, Rachael

  I glance up. I can’t wait to taste him. My fingers find his fly, trembling a bit as they work the zipper. His breath hitches above me when I take him into my hand and lean forward, teasing his moist tip with my tongue. The sound sends a thrill through me. This isn’t the first time I’ve taken him in my mouth, but it’s the first time he’s allowed me complete control in this position. I’m the director, and he’s the treasured talent, ready for me to mold, ready for creation.

  My body stretches as I move in closer. I freeze when his hand snakes out to wrench at my hair. His fingertips glide over my skull and he latches on, getting a good handful, forcing me to tilt my head back. I peer up at him, waiting for whatever it is he’s trying to tell me. I know it then, when his baby blues sear mine. I’m a slave to this man. He’s done something to me, and he’s absolutely right.

  There’s no turning back now.

  Soon I’ll be on the Trident Voyager again. Once again, I’ll be Tanner’s goddess, and he’ll be all mine. Once again, I’ll be facing the roaring sea and all of its glory, but this time, it’s not the ocean I’m afraid of.

  TWELVE

  I double check my purse to make sure my meds are carefully tucked away in the side pocket. I’m hoping I won’t need them this time around, but reality remains. The ocean’s power can strike without warning, and at any time can send me into a spiraling meltdown. I may have confronted my fear during my first cruise on Trident Voyager, but I know I’m not out of the woods yet.

  Lana yaps wildly at me on the phone as I hurry out the door. Tanner awaits me in the parking lot in a shiny, fresh-from-the-factory luxury sports car, sunglasses dipped low on his nose, watching me through the windshield.

  “I swear to you, the second you step foot off that ship, I will bow down and kiss your feet,” Lana says, her voice laced with uncontainable excitement. “This is by far the most thrilling thing you’ve ever done, Anya Banks! I mean, coming with me on the first cruise was pretty freaking brave of you, but this is an entirely new level of badassery!”

  “I’ve lost my mind,” I mumble into the phone, turning to lock the door behind me. “This is crazy.”

  “Listen to me and listen to me good, Anya. Women all around the globe are counting on you to live out their wildest fantasies, do you understand? Any straight, sane woman would kill for a chance at round two with Mr. I-Own-the-Ship Christensen. So live it up, and enjoy every damn second of it, or you will let us all down, and we will cry, and then we’ll have to stone you to death or something equally horrific. And I just can’t allow that.”

  I stop when I turn back to walk to the car. “Oh my God.”

  “Oh! What? What is it? You want to have his babies, don’t you?”

  “No,” I laugh, holding up my index finger to tell Tanner to wait, “I forgot to email you the review. I meant to send it last night, but we got, um…busy.”

  “So, what you really mean is you were busy being a dirty temptress when you should’ve been working on the review you owe me.”

  I gasp. “Take it back, Lana Crawley!”

  “Nuh-uh,” she mumbles. “No take backs. Never, ever.”

  “Okay. Quit harassing me and let me live out the women of the world’s fantasies.”

  “Yes! That’s the spirit. Oh, and take pictures.”

  “Take pictures?” I curl my lip. “Lana, I love you and all, but...”

  “No, woman. Of the ship. Your travels. Ted said he wants some great visuals for the feature.”

  A miffed laugh bubbles up. “Well, tell Ted to stop being cheap and to send Jake out here to get some shots.”

  “One step ahead of you, girl. Ted actually tried to get him out on the ship with us two weeks ago, but he’s been in Bermuda with the family.”

  “Bummer. He’s the best photographer we’ve got.”

  Lana snorts. “He’s the only photographer we’ve got.”

  “This is true.” I smile and sigh, still amazed at how stingy Ted can be. Four Corners Elite is one of the top travel publications in the industry, yet Ted’s really been holding back lately. He’s always been frugal, but the past few months have been torturous when it comes to discussing expenses with him. “Okay, I’ll email you the draft when I get on the ship. Tanner’s waiting.”

  “Sounds good, love. Have a blast! Brie and I will wallow in envy as we share a baguette and a bottle of red without you.”

  “Sounds brutal,” I chuckle and start for Tanner’s car. “Tell her I said hey.”

  “Will do. Talk soon!”

  We hang up and I scuttle to the passenger door. Tanner beats me to it, hopping out of the driver’s seat to help me inside.

  “We’re running late, Miss Banks.” He shoots me a look that says he means business, but all I can do is smile up at him. He’s so handsome in his signature grey suit and blue tie, all professional and debonair. He slipped fully back into Mr. Christensen mode this morning, and this side of him carries an irresistible flair all of its own. “Don’t grin at me like that.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s distracting.”

  “You said that last night.”

  “Yes, because last night you gave me the same grin right before you took me in your mouth, and now I can’t get the image out of my head.” He leans down and skims his thumb along my bottom lip, leveling his gaze with mine. “Distracting,” he whispers, with a ghost of a smile. I reach up for his hand and weave our fingers together for a moment, giving him a quick squeeze before allowing him to release me.

  It’s not long before we hit the road. Tanner’s driving is fast and smooth, careful and calculated, cautious but always sitting on the edge of daring. My mind can’t seem to get over the hurdle that I’m once again sitting next to Tanner Christensen. That I’m about to be back on his ship, and back in his bed. I really should have done more research on his father, or at the very least, studied the notes Lana took during her own research. I have no idea what I’ll write about this time around.

  “Something on your mind?” he asks, glancing at me.

  “I was just wondering about my assignment for this sailing. I haven’t heard from Ted since we docked yesterday. What did you discuss with him? I’ve already written my review.”

  “He gave you the green light to write about anything you wish.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything. I’ve asked him to consider doing a full-length themed feature about my ship in exchange for exclusive details on the company’s expansion.”

  “You’re expanding?”

  “Yes.” He shifts and his knuckles flex around the steering wheel. “We’ll be sailing from new ports next year, expanding in parts of Europe and out in the Pacific Northwest.”

  “That’s so exciting! I bet you’re thrilled.”

  “Exciting, yes. Thrilled, no. It will mean more time away from home. And other changes that I’m not particularly looking forward to.”

  “You travel a lot already. Will it make that much of a difference?”

  His phone rings, cutting him off, and he excuses himself as he hurries to answer. I give him a moment, directing my attention out the passenger window, eyeing the bright, cloudless sky and the tops of the palm trees that line the interstate as we speed toward Port Canaveral.

  I imagine Tanner sailing new territory, greeting guests on the Trident Voyager as he introduces them to fresh, stunning views of the Mediterranean. Even now, immersed in his world of luxury and exclusivity, I cannot merge my idea of living with his reality, which is filled with wealth, glamorous travel, gourmet food, and a ceaseless stream of women throwing themselves at his feet.

  My reality is microwaving the occasional TV dinner, sitting in a cubicle, and entertaining deadbeat boyfriends.

  A familiar wave of insecurity suddenly overtakes me and I begin to squirm, stilling when I feel Tanner’s hand grip and rest on my knee. He’s still on the phone, going on about business, but he glances at me curiously. I settle my focus on the road ahead, determined to keep the irr
ational thoughts deeply buried. They need to be invisible around a man like Tanner, who knows exactly who he is and what he likes.

  “I won’t discuss this now,” he insists, lowering his voice. His hand leaves my knee. “Then we won’t discuss it ever. I know exactly what you think of my decision. You’ve told me no less than five times now. I’ll speak to you when I dock in two weeks, and that’s final.” He shoves his phone in his pocket, huffing beneath his breath. Discomfort rolls off him in waves.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, wondering if that was his mother calling to pester him.

  “It will be, once we step foot on my ship.”

  “We don’t have to go on another sailing, you know. I understand if you’d like some time away from work. We can just spend time at your place, instead. Or mine.”

  “No. The Voyager will do.” He squeezes my knee again. “It’s the only way to ensure I get two full weeks with you. Once you’re on my ship, you’re stuck with me.”

  “There would certainly be worse things in the world, Mr. Christensen.”

  His head snaps toward me and I look away, a content, peaceful smile forming on my face.

  “We’re making a pit stop before we board,” Tanner declares, a knowing lilt to his tone.

  “Oh? Where to?”

  “Right here.” He points over the steering wheel to the shopping plaza on the right, eyeing the office supply store at the end of the strip.

  “Let me guess. You’re all out of sticky notes.”

  “Something like that.” We park and he opens the door for me, taking my hand. When we step inside the office supply store, Tanner grabs a cart and I’m whisked to the left, down the first aisle.

  “If we’re not here for sticky notes, what do you need?”

  “I’d like you to organize my office.” He walks us down the aisle, assessing the pen holders and file trays. “Get one of everything. Anything you think I need, put it in the cart.”

  “Wait a minute. The last two times I touched things in your office, it made you very cranky.”

  “I’m over it, Miss Banks. Please tend to this task for me. You’re good at it, and I trust your judgment.”

  I stop and eye him warily. “No more frantic phone calls when you can’t find a phone number?”

  “I cannot promise that, but I believe I can agree to some upgrades to keep things in better order.”

  “As in, you’ll actually try storing your contacts in your phone?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Tanner, what century are you living in? How have you survived in the business world?”

  “I like to write things down. That will not change, so get used to it, Miss Banks. It’s worked for me thus far.”

  “Um, no. No, it hasn’t.”

  “If you’re going to organize my office, you’re going to play by my rules.”

  “I never agreed to organize your office!” My voice jumps two octaves and earns us a few looks from nearby store associates. I gather my cool and get myself in check. I speak quieter this time. “I’m a travel writer, not an administrative assistant.”

  “You’re also a kept woman for the next two weeks, and kept women have to earn their keep.” He winks playfully and I stomp on his foot, wishing to God Lana were here to witness the victory. She’s my biggest cheerleader, and the more I spend time with Tanner and his full-of-himself persona, I’m convinced I have, in fact, learned to adopt some of her spunk. With a man this overbearing, I’ve no choice.

  “I haven’t boarded your ship yet. I can call Jonah right now and have him pick me up and drive me home.”

  Tanner’s eyes flare. “Need I remind you that you are on loan to me by your boss for the next two weeks and that the entire expense is on me?” He snatches a pen holder from the shelf without looking at it and holds it out, gently pressing it into my chest. “You work for me the next two weeks, Miss Banks, and I won’t allow Junior to pick you up in his remote control toy car.”

  “Jonah drives a moped, for your information.”

  “Oh,” he rolls his eyes to the ceiling, chuckling, “even better.”

  “Fine.” I grab the pen holder and toss it unceremoniously in the cart. “If I’m to organize your office, then we play by my rules.” I walk around the cart and lean up into his face, kissing him on the lips. “And there will be no more sticky notes.” Without another word, I push the cart and start trucking down the aisle, grabbing everything in sight. Not only has he fired me up about my choice in men—boys, whatever—and interfered with my career, now he’s awakened an entirely new passion in me, and that is to create the best, most efficient office system I can for him. At least now, when I stop by to say hello, his desk won’t drive me mad.

  I can feel the undercurrent of his laugh behind me, but I don’t turn around. I remain focused, a woman on a mission, goal oriented and task driven. I may work in a boring cubicle for people who get to travel a hell of a lot more than I do, but I have the neatest, most efficient cubicle in the office, and that workspace makes me one hell of a writer. It keeps me focused, and when you’re staring at a blank Word document while the Temptress of All Shiny Things—aka the Internet—taunts you, focus is critical.

  By the time we hit the check-out counter, I’ve practically bought the whole store. I smile as Tanner lugs all of the bags from the cart and loads them into the trunk. Next stop is the port, and when we arrive, I feel a small flair of panic when my gaze lands on the ship. Just yesterday, I was able to look back at it fondly, reverently, even. Today, knowing I’m boarding for yet another fourteen days and placing my heart on the line by extending this arrangement with Tanner, a new breed of uncertainty begins to swell low in my belly.

  “Did you remember to pack your meds?” Tanner asks gently as a steward approaches to take our shopping bags and luggage.

  I pause for a moment. “Yes. Thank you.”

  He plants a light kiss on my head and offers me his arm to walk up the gangway. “The minute you feel afraid, you come find me. Day or night. I’m all yours. You’re my first priority during this sailing.”

  A little pang hits my chest and my eyes roll up to watch him as we walk. His baby blues are covered, concealed by his sunglasses. I squeeze his forearm and his lips twitch, but he doesn’t look down, just keeps up his graceful stride, leading us to his cabin, kicking off our shoes as soon as we enter.

  “Champagne, baby?” He begins to loosen his tie.

  I flop onto the chaise lounge by one of the porthole windows and sigh. “That sounds heavenly.”

  “I’m on it. Would you like anything else?”

  “Just you.”

  He slides his tie off and hangs it over the back of a dining room chair. “At your service, Miss Banks.”

  I stretch out like a cat and cradle my arms behind my head, envisioning the new adventures about to unfold as we set sail. “Tanner?” I call out, hearing him shuffle around in the kitchen.

  “Yes?”

  “Are we going back to Alvita?”

  “We are.”

  “Will we get to spend more time at your place on the island?”

  “If you’d like.”

  “I’d love to.”

  “There will be no dusting this time around.”

  “Oh, but you know what a man with a duster does for me,” I sing playfully, pointing my toes over the edge of the lounge. I’m in sore need of a pedicure.

  “If it pleases you that much, I’ll consider a repeat performance.” He reappears from the kitchen, two glasses of champagne in hand.

  I sit up eagerly. “You would do that?”

  He hands me one and sits next to me, clinking our glasses. “I said I’ll consider it. No promises, though.”

  My bottom lip puffs out and he bends forward, planting a kiss on my cheek. “To our revised arrangement,” he raises his glass, “and to gorgeous, clever women brave enough to dive in.”

  I tap my glass against his. “I don’t think there’s anything clever about me joining you fo
r another cruise.” My tone is light, but my words seem to jar him.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I’ve already told you. I’m the one taking the risk, here.”

  “You have no idea the risk I’m taking by bringing you here, Anya.” His eyes flit away and he takes a sip of his champagne.

  I sit up straight, tucking my legs to the side. “Me? A risk? How so? Why didn’t you say something? I offered to stay ashore and—”

  “Let me ask you something.”

  “Okay…”

  “Where did you get the impression that you’re the only one…feeling invested?”

  His head turns but his gaze is lowered, scanning my bare legs. My lungs lock up in my chest, shifting into shutdown mode. My fingers find the hem of my sundress and begin wiggling it down toward my knees, suddenly feeling the need to cover them from his intense stare.

  “I’m not sure,” I respond quietly. “I suppose I just assumed that from the beginning. You’ve made your position very clear. I wasn’t expecting anything other than what you offered.”

  His gaze finally lifts to mine, and his eyes pierce me. “I still don’t know what I can offer you. I don’t know what this means. I only know I want as many hours as possible with you.”

  I blink. My fingers turn cold, but my chest warms, as if fresh laundry from the dryer has just been dumped onto it by the heap full.

  “Does that frighten you?” he asks, watching my reaction with the same severity evident in his voice.

  I stutter. “Why would that frighten me?”

  “You don’t strike me as a woman who enjoys spending time in Limbo. I can see you’re a rational, practical person who likes order and certainty. I’m not sure I can offer you either.”

  “I’m far from rational when I’m with you, Tanner.”

  He scans my face, and I can’t help but wonder what’s brought about his sudden seriousness. Just moments ago he was relaxed and carefree, proposing a toast to celebrate our time together, and now he’s brooding and lost in thought.

  “Hey,” I scoot over and climb onto his lap. “Let’s not over think this. We have an arrangement. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. I can handle that, or I wouldn’t have agreed to be here with you again.” I mean the words as I say them, but a small, black space, somewhere hidden, nags at me that they aren’t entirely true.