Tanner’s throat bobs. He looks away, staring at a piece of driftwood down on the beach shaped like a twisted spine. His jaw works.
“Yeah,” he whispers, the word barely audible over the wind. “I was lonely.”
When he looks back at me, the analytical, robotic Tanner Sinclair is gone. There’s just a man who’s been holding his breath for years, waiting to see if he’s safe enough to exhale.
“I didn’t want to be a problem,” he admits, his voice cracking. “But yeah, it was hard sometimes. Never fully feeling at home anywhere. Never being able to let my guard down all the way and relax completely.”
I reach out with my good hand, gripping the back of his neck. His skin is cold from the wind, but he leans into my touch, like a flower finding the sun.
“You’re not a guest here,” I say fiercely. “Not on our team. Not with me.”
He stares at me, his pupils blown wide, and the air between us shifts. The heavy sadness changes into something more electric.
“I’m starting to believe that,” he murmurs. His gaze drops to my mouth, then back up to my eyes.
He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have to. He’s looking at me like I’m the only solid thing in a world of instability.
“Let’s go back,” I say, my voice dropping an octave.
Tanner nods. “Yeah.”
We turn back toward our cabin. We don’t touch, but the air between us is electric. I feel like he just shared something with me that he’s never shared with anyone else.
We walk faster.
The second we’re back inside our cabin, we’re on each other, our kisses desperate and hungry. Somehow, we shed the first layer of our clothes, and then we’re stumbling down the short hallway to the bedroom.
I love kissing Tanner. His rough stubble feels so good against mine, and it’s so different from kissing a woman. It’s intense and sexier than I could have ever imagined.
We pull apart just long enough for him to tear off his shirt and help me take mine off before crashing back together. I could get addicted to the feeling of his hard muscles, of his lightly furred chest pressed up to my own. I wish like hell I wasn’t still trappedin this stupid sling because I want to wrestle with him and pin him down, to match his strength, to compete for dominance. I’m fucking dying to run both hands over the smooth skin of his back, pulling him as close to me as I can get him.
He kisses his way down my jawline to my neck, groaning as I tilt my head to give him more access.
“So, I don’t want to rush you or anything,” he says, alternating slow, open-mouthed kisses with playful nips. “But you can fuck me tonight if you want.”
I suck in a sharp breath.Fuck yes, I want.I’ve been thinking about it since my surgery. As I was lying there, waiting to go under, my mind was drifting to all the things I still want to experience.
And somehow, this rose straight to the top of the list.
I want to explore this side of myself I never even knew existed. And I want to do it with the man who brought it out in me. With Tanner.
I must hesitate a beat too long because he hurries to reassure me. “It’s okay if you’re not ready for that. I love what we’ve been doing, but if that’s something you want, I’m good with it.”
“Oh fuck, yes. Yes, I want to.”
He smiles, moving his mouth back up to mine again. “Me too. I want to feel you inside me,” he murmurs against my lips, and my already rock-hard cock twitches.
He goes for the button on my jeans, and when I try to help him with my one good arm, he brushes me away.
“Nope, I’m the teacher tonight.” He grins as he slides my pants and briefs down my legs, pausing to plant a kiss on the tip of my dick, which makes me smile. There’s a playful side to Tanner Sinclair that he rarely allows out, but I love it. I want to see him like this more often.
When we’re both naked, he nods toward the bed. “Lie down. I’ll be right back.”
He disappears into the bathroom and emerges a few minutes later, holding condoms and a small bottle of lube, which he drops beside my hip before crawling slowly up my body, his gaze predatory. He leans in to take my mouth, kissing me deeply as he settles his weight on top of me, rutting our rock-hard erections together and making me groan.
I run my good hand up the wide expanse of his strong back, everywhere I can reach, cursing my damn, stupid injury once more. “God, I wanna touch you with both hands,” I murmur as his mouth drifts down to the nipple on my good side, alternating between sharp bites and soft licks.
“It’s okay, baby. Let me make you feel good tonight,” he whispers.
