Blindsided (17 page)

Unfortunately and much to his surprise, he could not.

* * * *

Emma’s attempt to give Tanner a football season kick-off party failed miserably. Tanner burnt the steaks. Cooper came to the rescue and ran to the closest pizza place to return an hour later with several boxes of steaming pizza of which the hungry men made short work. Meanwhile, Emma vacillated between being angry at Tanner and worried about him. His hatred of Isaac was slowly destroying him from the inside out, and she didn’t know how to repair what was broken, especially considering he wouldn’t tell her why it was broken.

She could ask Avery and started to several times. Avery would tell her, but she wanted to hear it from Tanner, the man who was supposed to be her husband.

Everyone cleared out by eight-thirty, and Tanner went straight to bed. He’d volunteered to help Emma clean up, but she turned him down. He had a big day tomorrow, and she didn’t want to do anything jeopardizing his first day of training camp. When she finally crawled into bed, he lay naked on his stomach, snoring, completely dead to the world. He’d kicked the covers off and Tux lay on the pillow next to his head. Not wanting to wake him, she stayed on her side with Tuxedo snuggled between them. A vision of her as an old lady with no one to keep her company but her dozen cats flashed before her eyes.

Emma rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling fan as it turned slow lazy circles. Tanner didn’t care for AC. He said it was unnatural, which was fine with Emma, though they’d been suffering through an unusually hot July.

Tanner yawned and rolled over, displacing the cat, and pulling her to him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I know you have an early morning.”

“Yeah,” he answered groggily. “I’d like to—but I’m really tired.”

“It’s okay, Tan. I’m fine. We can take a night off once in a while.”

“Yeah, sure, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around her and in seconds snored softly into her ear.

Emma buried her head in his chest, wishing she could spend forever in his arms. Instead, she didn’t even know if she had tomorrow. She sighed and snuggled closer to him, despite the heat, wishing he’d talk to her. Under his easygoing grin and playful personality lurked dark secrets and tragic regrets. She saw the pain in his eyes, even though he covered it well, and his sadness broke her heart. If only he’d let her in.

Emma closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t come.

At five A.M. the next morning, Tanner strode into the Bridge. He was the first one there, except for Mike, the geriatric security officer and one of the few employees who’d been with the team since its inception as an expansion team in the seventies. Back in the day, a group of Seattle businessmen, including the Reynolds family, had banded together to bring football to Seattle. The team had come a long way since the days of three-year waiting lists for season tickets and sold-out stadiums—a long way downhill—culminating with the former owner’s aborted attempt to move the team out of Seattle to Los Angeles a few months ago.

Tanner wasn’t proud of his contribution to the team’s demise and consequent sale to the new ownership group. In the two years he’d been the starting quarterback, the team failed to have a winning season. They also held the record for the longest playoff drought.

Tanner tried to shake off his lack of sleep with coffee and a brutal workout. If he watched film this early, he’d be snoring in no time. Emma was going to be the death of him. He’d woken up in the middle of the night and found her wet and willing. For a sweet little thing with minimal sexual experience, she caught on fast and kept Tanner in a constant state of arousal. Even now his cock hardened thinking about her.

Tanner upped the pace on the treadmill until his legs screamed for relief and sweat streamed down his face, anything to drive Emma out of his mind so he could concentrate on the business at hand. His priorities were clear—make the playoffs, prove he belonged in the league as a starter, and get a nice, new long-term contract. But first he needed to secure his spot as the starter. Noah Hernandez, the Steelheads’ first-round draft pick would be gnawing at his heels. The kid was good, but Tanner was better.

Tanner’s throat was parched, and his heart slammed in his chest. He slowed the treadmill and cooled down, finally stepping off. Leaning over, hands on hips, he attempted to catch his breath.

“Seriously? That’s the best you’ve got?”

Tanner straightened and turned in the direction of the voice, ignoring the sharp pain in his side. Watching him with a smirk on his face stood a Steelhead legend, Jackson “Jack” Meyer, a three-time Super Bowl winner from the Steelheads’ glory days and a personal idol of Tanner’s.

“What kind of pussy-assed workout is that?” Meyer sneered. The retired quarterback wasn’t exactly known for his winning personality, just his winning on the field. He’d been hired as the quarterback coach by the new management a few weeks ago, but Tanner hadn’t come face to face with him until now.

“I—uh—I—” Tanner’s gifted tongue deserted him. He couldn’t think of a thing to say.

Meyer studied him with his legendary intensity as if he saw it all—Tanner’s strengths, his weaknesses, even his secret fondness for spinach quiche. Despite his burning lungs, Tanner attempted to control his breathing and present a cool, calm demeanor. He failed miserably. Meyer said nothing, merely sized him up with his ever-present scowl saying more than words.

Finally the man showed a little mercy and spoke. “I’ve analyzed your tapes, how you throw, your release, your footwork.”

“Okay.” Tanner swallowed, figuring less said the better.

“You’re operating on instincts, which is good if your technique is there, but it’s not. In fact, it fucking sucks.” Meyer was known for his fondness for the F word, his bluntness, and his lack of tact. He told it like it was.

Tanner didn’t respond. He’d gone into maintenance mode, where survival meant everything, even at a loss of ego.

“Don’t worry. We’ll whip your lazy, incompetent ass into shape.” Meyer’s wicked grin scared Tanner more than facing an entire defensive line of all-pros.

Tanner had no doubt Meyer would whip him into shape, or they’d both die trying. “Coach. I’m looking forward to working with you. You’re a star in this city, and I could only hope to be half as good as you someday.” Finally finding his tongue, Tanner gushed like a proverbial fangirl.

“Cut the crap. I know all about how the bullshit spews out of that mouth of yours. I’m not interested in bullshit. I’m interested in results. We have a snot-nosed rookie just dying for a chance at your job. Are you going to give him that chance or solidify your position with this team?”

“This is my team,” Tanner boasted with confidence he didn’t feel, knowing Meyer expected nothing less than absolute confidence in himself and his team. Tanner had neither, but he’d fake it until he did.

Meyer scrutinized him long and hard, his blue eyes as cold as Isaac’s, and his expression unreadable. It was the same steely gaze which had once made him a great team leader and a formidable opponent. Tanner willed himself not to squirm.

“Finish your pansy-assed workout and report to the field in fifty minutes.” Meyer checked his Rolex for emphasis.

“Yes, sir,” Tanner answered automatically, feeling like he was dealing with his father all over again.

“Not
sir
. Coach will do.” Meyer strode off like a man on a mission, ready to beat down the next cocky jock in his path.

Tanner shook his head and sighed. He’d made a crappy first impression, but then his lousy play the last couple years had already paved that road.

“Whoa, he’s a hardass.” Hunter came up behind him in that stealthy way he had.

“No shit, but he’s the best.” Tanner turned toward the locker room. “And I was fucking finished with my workout.”

“He didn’t think so.” Hunter followed him.

“He wasn’t here at five
A.M.
when I started either.” Tanner sat down in front of his locker. The room was starting to fill-up with players buzzing with excitement over the start of training camp mixed with trepidation concerning the new management and coaching staff.

“Good things are coming. I can feel it.” Hunter grinned.

Tanner rolled his eyes. Hunter’s great-grandmother was a shaman or something like that, and Hunter fancied himself to have some kind of magical powers. Most of the time Tanner rolled with it, but today he wasn’t feeling especially gracious.

“Hey, old man, move over, there’s a new game in town.”

Tanner glanced up to see who the unfamiliar voice was addressing and came face to face with the rookie quarterback, Noah Hernandez.

“I’m only twenty-four, rookie. Lots of gas left in this tank.”

The kid looked him up and down and smirked. “Too bad you’ll be parking in a garage in another town then.” Hernandez leaned close. “The quarterback job is mine.”

Tanner fisted his hands. For the first time in a very long time, he wanted to start a fight and beat the crap out of the smug, over-confident ass. The kid wouldn’t know what hit him, literally. Tanner knew all the street-fighting tricks. He’d take the rookie down in five seconds.

And after that, Coach Meyer would take Tanner down in less.

* * * *

Tanner dragged his sore, tired ass home about midnight. Emma had waited up for him, and he wished she hadn’t. In fact, her concern irritated him for reasons he couldn’t explain. Maybe he was already resenting the old ball and chain. Or maybe, and more likely, she was getting too close to him, setting off all kinds of alarms, and he fought to remain invulnerable.

When Tanner walked into the great room she’d so lovingly decorated, she put down her iPad and ran to him, hugging him. He resisted at first, then wrapped his arms around her now-familiar body, needing her touch more than he hated to admit. She held him tightly, her hands stroking the strained muscles in his back as if she instinctually knew where he hurt the most.

Finally she drew back and stared up into his face. He tried to smile, but smiling required too much energy. “I missed you,” she said, her blue eyes bright with delight at seeing him. Her welcome made him feel like a total ass, as if he wasn’t feeling bad enough considering the day’s events. He’d looked like the rookie today in the passing drills while Hernandez stepped up like a pro. Tanner caught the coaches watching the kid and whispering among themselves. He also caught the grim expression on Coach Meyer’s face as he watched Tanner miss the target on drill after drill. He was trying too hard instead of letting his innate ability, training, and instincts take over.

“It’s been a tough day. I’m going to bed.”

“Want me to join you?” Emma ran a hand down his thigh and cupped his balls, giving a little squeeze.

A minute ago he’d been too tired for anything but a deep, dead sleep, but suddenly his dick sprang to life and gave his tired body a shot of adrenaline. He desperately needed to avail himself of Emma’s sweet softness. Even though it’d only been this morning, it seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

Her face lit up, and she followed him to the bedroom, leaving a trail of shed clothes on the floor. Tanner didn’t waste any time with foreplay. He needed her with a desperation he couldn’t control. Rolling a condom onto his dick, he joined her on the bed. She lay there naked, watching him, passion shining in her eyes.

“Baby, I have to have you now,” he said through gritted teeth, pretty sure this’d be the fastest fuck he’d ever had with her. He was just about to come right now looking into those trusting blue eyes, a trust he sure as hell hadn’t earned and didn’t deserve, but he’d save the guilt for later.

“Take me.” She gifted him with an inviting smile, one of the many things she’d developed in their brief relationship. She arched her body, drawing his gaze to those incredible breasts of hers. He sucked in a harsh breath as he took a moment to burn her beautiful body into his memory, not that it hadn’t already charred a wide swath through his brain like an out-of-control wildfire.

He started to take her missionary style but made the mistake of looking into her eyes. He couldn’t face those eyes, not after the day he’d had. She worshipped him, and he wasn’t worthy. He couldn’t take it. Not when he felt like a total failure in every other part of his life lately. He’d fail her, too. It would only be a matter of time before the adoration would be replaced with disappointment.

Tanner flipped her over onto her stomach. “On your hands and knees,” he growled into her back, as he moved behind her. He ran his hands across her ass, and she giggled, wiggling her butt in his face. He groaned.

“I don’t think I can be gentle tonight,” he warned, as he rose up on his knees.

“Then don’t be gentle.”

He wasn’t.

Tanner lunged into her in one hard, powerful thrust, stretching her wide. She gasped and let out a little cry.

“Did I hurt you?” He held her in place with his cock buried deep inside her and her ass pressed against his stomach.

“It’s all good,” she managed to say. Whether or not it really was, his dick didn’t care. Tanner withdrew and thrust into her again. And again. And again. He reached around and grabbed her nipples, squeezing and pulling on them as he slammed into her body, using her in ways he’d never used her before. He came hard and fast in mere seconds, a purely physical relief with none of the spiritual connection he’d experienced before with her.

Exhausted, spent, and beyond disappointed in himself, Tanner rolled onto his back, tossing the spent condom in the nearby trash can. He’d used Emma as if she were just a body with the necessary parts. He’d never treated her like that.

Only right now, he was so spent, he couldn’t form a coherent thought about what’d just happened. He made the mistake of meeting Emma’s gaze. She wasn’t smiling. In fact, she looked sad. Only then did he realize, Emma hadn’t come.

He closed his eyes and let the blessed oblivion of sleep take over.

* * * *