Docked (9 page)

“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.

I glance up at Tanner, who’s dead to the world. His face is so peaceful, his chest rising and falling with soft breaths. I wiggle from his grip and sneak out of bed, retrieving my crumpled panties from the floor and slipping them on. I pad over to his closet, opting to snatch one of his shirts from a hanger instead of pulling on my dress from the night before. I choose the first one I see, a pale blue button-up, crisp and ironed to perfection. I slide it on and fasten a few of the buttons, then fluff my hair out, tiptoeing to the kitchen next.

I close the bedroom door quietly, wandering onto the sleek, black floor. The tile is marble, with golden specks in it, matching the counters. It looks spotless and polished to a high shine, and I wonder, remembering the immoderate bread buffet from yesterday evening, if Tanner never has to cook a thing. I pull open the refrigerator, and to my surprise, it is filled with every fresh fruit and vegetable imaginable, plus an infinite supply of bottled water. I reach for the eggs, milk, and bacon, and search the cupboards for the pots and pans. I make sure the bacon is crispy and add shredded cheese to the scrambled eggs, eager to sate the loud growling in my belly. I dig through a drawer for a fork and decide to take two, pushing some of the breakfast onto another plate for Tanner.

Opening the bedroom door with two plates in my hand is tricky, but I manage. When I enter, there’s a little movement from the bed, Tanner’s legs shifting beneath the blanket. His arms come up and he lifts his head, folding them underneath. His eyes slowly flicker open, working to focus on me as I stand there at the edge of the bed, plates in hand.

“Um…I made breakfast. Hope you don’t mind. I was starving.”

“Of course not,” he responds, voice groggy. He sleepily pats the space next to him and moves to sit up against the headboard. The blanket falls to his waist, revealing that impressive, rigid abdomen. I climb into bed and scoot up next to him, placing one plate on his lap. He eyes the plate, then me, studying his shirt.

“I didn’t want to wear my dress,” I explain, my fork suspended in midair, inches from my mouth.

He lifts a hand and grazes the side of my thigh, playing with the hem of the shirt. “A work of art,” he says, moving to pick up his plate. “Very sexy, Anya Banks.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I dig into my scrambled eggs, resting my head back as Tanner chews on a piece of bacon. “Taste okay?”

“Tastes great.” He shovels a mouthful of eggs onto his fork. “I wasn’t expecting breakfast in bed.”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting anything last night.”

He smirks and looks at me from the corner of his eye. “I missed my jog last night because of you.”

“I never went home last night because of you.”

“Do you regret it?”

I wiggle my toes and tilt my head as I playfully consider his question. My limbs are relaxed and every muscle in my body is tender. “Nope,” I smile and take a bite, pulling my legs up to rest my plate on my knees, “not one bit.” And it’s true. Lana will be thrilled to hear the news, I’m sure.

“What are your plans for the day? I have to get to the office soon.”

“The beach. We’re docked on this island for two nights, right?”

“Correct. I’ll see to it that you have a personal cabana and a fully stocked kitchen. You’re welcome to stay both days, if you’d like.”

“Oh, I don’t need any of that. Just a towel and a lounge chair and I’m good.”

Tanner sets his plate down and clears his throat. His voice is still gruff from sleep, and it’s incredibly sexy. “Anya, you will take the cabana. I insist.”

“Do all of your playthings get the cabana?”

“Playthings?” He cocks a brow, a tired, amused smile spreading over his face.

“I don’t want special treatment, thank you very much. I’m here to work and relax. You showering me with…
luxuries
makes me feel like Julia Roberts in ‘Pretty Wo—”

“Stop right there.” Tanner sits up straight. “If I shower you with anything, it’s because I’m a wealthy man and I can, and I choose to. You are not that. Let’s get that straight right now.”

“Whatever. That’s exactly what I am.” I stand and collect my empty plate, reaching for his. “You going to finish that?”

He snatches my wrist and pulls me back into bed. I yelp and my plate drops onto the sheets. He places me on his lap so I’m straddling him. I’m inches from his face. It’s downright irritating how good looking he is first thing in the morning. “You’re not a plaything. You made that very clear when you told me you prefer sex in committed relationships.”

“But I chose this anyway.” I shrug. “That makes me just like the brunette in the hallway—”

“Anya, enough. You said you’ve never done this before. Was that the truth?”

“Yes…”

“Then in that case, you’re a woman who respects herself, who is choosing to experiment with something different for once. Nothing more, nothing less. And can we please stop discussing the brunette in the hallway?”

“Who was she?” Once again, the word vomit just keeps on coming. But I want to know. I’m curious.

He stares up at me, looking as curious as I feel. “You seriously want to know?”

“Yes. She was very beautiful.”

Tanner shifts beneath me, his eyes scanning the space behind me for a second before bringing them back to my patient gaze. “Just a woman I see from time to time.”

“Is she the only one?”

“The only one?”

“The only…repeat?”

“Shit, Anya, I don’t hire women to…”

I tap his chest. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” He raises his chin in challenge, begging me to soothe his wounded ego.

“Tanner,” I squeeze his shoulder playfully, “I only mean, she is more than a one-night stand. Right?”

“Right.”

“Elaborate.” I wiggle on his lap and rest back on my hands, digging my knees into the sheets.

“That woman and I get together when it’s convenient. We work together. It’s not exclusive. What you and I are doing is new for me, too. I’m simply trying to provide an arrangement that suits you.”

“How considerate of you, Mr. Christensen,” I joke, smirking coyly. I move to lean forward, but he beats me to it and moves in, wrapping his arms around me.

“There’s that word again.” He grimaces, as if there’s a bad taste in his mouth. “
Considerate
.”

“You said considerate is good.”

“Good, yes, but there’s much more to keeping a woman satisfied than simply being considerate.”

“As you would surely know.”

“I kept you very satisfied last night, did I not?”

“You know you did.”

“Then aren’t you glad I have the knowledge?” I shake my head with a smile, moving to lift myself off of him, but he still won’t budge. His arms are ironclad around my back. “You’re a smart, sexy woman, Anya Banks. You’re going to make some man very happy one day.”

I bend to meet his lips, pressing a soft kiss on his mouth. “Thank you.” A pleased hum vibrates in his throat.

“Notice I said
man
,” he adds sternly against my lips. “Find one who knows how to please you. Who listens.”

“Yes, sir,” I tease, giving him a salute.

“I mean it,” he teases back, pecking my cheek, “I expect a report.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” I roll my eyes and slide off him. He swats my ass and slips out of bed, shuffling toward the closet. I admire the view, scanning his tan backside with a contented sigh.

“I need to shower and get going, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. Enjoy your day on the island.” He retrieves some clean clothes and starts for the bathroom. “I’ll see you for dinner tonight.” When he reaches the door, he pivots and points. “Use the cabana.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll be speaking to your boss this afternoon.”

Shit. I forgot. “Tanner! No!”

He grins mischievously and jogs into the bathroom. I jump out of bed and race across the carpet, but the lock clicks and I’m effectively shut out.

“Tanner! Please, don’t.”

The water starts to run. “Sorry,” he shouts, “can’t hear you.”

I change tactics. “I need a shower, too. Can I join you?”

There’s silence for a moment, and the lock unclicks. He cracks the door with a knowing smile. I play it up, holding his gaze while I toy with my top shirt button, popping one, then the next, working a lazy trail down. His greedy eyes follow and he reaches out, hooking his fingers around my collar. With a little tug, he pulls me into the bathroom and I fall against him. His mouth bears down on mine and my legs lift, curling around his hips. He picks me up and slams the bathroom door closed, and we stumble into the shower. I might not be able to change his mind, but I can sure as hell try.