Entangled To The CEO

Rainer’s [POV]

I wasn’t surprised when Tasha pushed against my chest and slipped away from the door. Then she went to the cabin’s queen-sized bed and looked back at me.

I couldn’t move, maybe I was drowning. Every reasonable voice in my head was screaming to take it slow.

Tasha was different, and I couldn’t just go through my regular motions. There was more between us than I had ever felt before, and it was starting to feel like a powder keg in my chest.

“I’m not teasing anymore,” Tasha said. I was across the room in two long strides, and I caught her waist tight in my arms.

“No. I’m not going to screw this up. And I’m not going to let you do this,” I said, letting go.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Do what?” Tasha asked. “Trick me into acting like any other playboy on a yacht. I want to take things slow,” I said. Tasha scowled.

“First off, you keep telling me that I’m different, but you still assume that I have the same opinion of you as everyone else.”

“Because you keep reminding me!” I couldn’t keep my voice down, then cringed.

“I’m sick of my reputation. I’m trying to change; it’s time for me to change, grow up, whatever you want to call it.”

“So, you’ve got a lot to prove,” Tasha said.

“I know what that’s like.” “Then how do you do it?” I paced around the spacious cabin and passed the glowing lights of the Bay Bridge outside the windows.

“I figure out what I want, and then I go after it,” Tasha said. I turned just as she wrapped both arms around my neck.

Her kiss wobbled my knees and I gasped for breath between her lips.

“And what do you want?” I asked.

“You.” I shook my head though my hands wouldn’t let go of Tasha.

“No. No way. Someone will hear. We’re on a yacht full of people just dying to find a scandal to talk about.” The chandelier above us rattled.

A searing note reached us even in the private cabin and I wanted to shake a fist at my luck.

Up on the main deck, the A-list performer grabbed the mic and shouted out a long list of compliments to his generous hosts.

Then the drummer kicked off a heavy rhythm and the bass player was close behind. The door jam pulsed with the music, and I could barely hear myself think. Tasha laughed.

“What was that you were saying about someone hearing us?” I struggled to take e a deep breath as she walked over to the cabin door and casually locked it.

Tasha was right. There was no way anyone would hear us over the lively performance.

“Someone’s going to notice we’re gone,” I said.

“All eyes are on stage. Guaranteed. That’s what Berger paid for,” Tasha pointed out. I held up both hands as she approached me again.

“Why? Why do you want me?” Tasha’s eyes narrowed and her head tipped as she assessed our conversation like a business negotiation.

With a slight nod, she decided it was best to tell me her reasons because she believed they might be common ground.

A good starting place: “I want to have sex with you again because I think it’ll help us both get this out of our systems.” I wanted to bash my head against the porthole window. She had voiced the very same argument I had used to justify sleeping with her in the first place.

“Tasha, you can’t be serious,” I said. Her chin tipped up. “Why not? Men get to have sex like that all the time.” I held up my hands again.

“I’m not being sexist. I just want you to think about it.” Tasha shook her head.

“I don’t want to think. That’s the whole point. If I just let myself feel this, then maybe it will subside.”

My head spun over the fact that she was feeling something between us too. “It won’t work,” I said.

“I’ve already tried it.” That stopped her.

“You slept with me to get me out of your system?” she asked. I nodded.

“It made things worse. It made me want you even more.” A darker shade of expression veiled Tasha’s eyes.

She was worried, but her body seemed to be reacting on its own. She took a step forward, hesitated, and then flew back into my arms.

Her kiss burned away any resistance that either of us felt. I tried to hold on, reminding myself where we were and what the crowd was like just down the hall. But, it didn’t matter.

The band raced into another pulsing song, and I lost control. Tasha and I fell together onto the queen-sized bed.

Her dress slipped off to reveal a sheer slip that ignited my blood.

As her hands peeled off my suit coat and plucked lose my shirt, I tossed her dress over the back of a chair and let my lips skim the silk of her slip, and then her skin.

“This is what you want?” I asked. Tasha nodded, tugging me up to kiss her again. I told myself to be careful of her hair, to be gentle, but her hips rose to meet me and all thought was erased.

Fireworks exploded from the back deck of the yacht and glittered down past our window.

The only reason I knew years hadn’t passed since I raised my head was the fact that the band was still thumping away up on the main deck.

I lay on my back staring at the long stretch of Golden Gate Bridge drifting past the porthole window. Tasha sat up and reached for her dress.

“Did it work?” I asked.

“Funny,” she said, “I never took you for insecure.” I sat up.

“I meant did you get me out of your system?” She glanced over her shoulder and then tugged her dress back into place.

“I better get back to the party.” I raced to get dressed before she got to the cabin door.

“What’s the plan? Want me to go first and then text you the ‘all clear?'” Tasha straightened her shoulders and looked me dead in the eye.

“I’m not going to skulk out of here like I did something wrong. Women are just as capable of having flings as men.” I pressed a hand to the door.

“So, I’m a fling now?” “You’re in my way, that’s what you are right now.” She tugged open the cabin door but took a second to peek into the hallway before she left.

I could have stayed in the cabin all night trying to sort out what had just happened, but I was worried about Tasha.

Was she upset? Had her little experiment worked and she was completely over me? I counted to sixty at a furious pace and then slipped out the cabin door and back down the narrow hallway.

Tasha turned away from the bar, where she had wisely stopped to make it look like she’d been there all along, and then she plunged into the crowd.

Most people were aimed at the main deck where the music was still blasting. I grabbed a drink and followed the flow.

Tasha’s head bobbed across the room from me and I did my best to look casual while I tracked her. I had to change course when Patricia caught my eye.

She frowned at me, and it took all my restraint to smile back at her. Sure, my reputation was my fault, but the bitterness I felt from her wasn’t helping.

I hadn’t made her do anything she didn’t want to do. And it wasn’t like she’d ever called me again.

I wondered if Tasha was going to be the same. I made my way out onto the deck where I could still see Tasha through the windows.

It was quieter on the back deck, and I could hear normal, non-scandalous conversations going on all around me.

I took a deep breath and realized I felt great. Underneath all the complications, I was happy, and I hoped that Tasha felt it too.

Stan caught me as I released a satisfied sigh. “You seem relaxed. Glad the GroGreen project is finally done?” Stan asked.

“No,” I said. “It was nice feeling like I was contributing. You know, instead of just being this playboy cartoon Hyperion trots out to appease the media.”

“Oh, so it’s all an act now, is it?” Stan asked. He planted his feet on the deck and looked me square in the eye.

“You honestly think anyone is going to believe you’ve changed?” I ground my teeth. Stan had a soft spot for Tasha.

Beyond the rumors of a May-December romance, everyone at the office knew that Stan was grooming Tasha as his protege.

Still, the way he looked at me made me think he knew more about Tasha’s life than what happened in the office.

“Maybe it’s people’s perception of me that’s changing,” I said. Stan chuckled, but there was no smile in his stern expression.

“Well, either way, the GroGreen project is finished, and Tasha is moving on. Time for you to attach yourself to someone else.”

“The media campaign might be over, but the application is still out there. The community garden idea is still out there, and I hear it’s expanding,” I said.

“Yes. I heard a private investor created a fund to help maintain community gardens all across the East Bay.” Stan looked at me hard and then softened slightly.

“I know Tasha would never be so frivolous, but she’ll be happy to know someone did it.” I glanced out across the bay, irritated that Stan had seen through me so easily.

“Someone who wants to remain anonymous.”

“Good,” Stan said.

“Anonymous doesn’t get in the way. Anonymous leaves Tasha alone because she deserves a chance to pursue her career without useless complications.”

He flagged down a waiter, ordered two strong whiskeys, and then left me to wait at the railing until the yacht headed back to shore.