Free Tanner's War by Amber Morgan

apple tree, crooked and heavy with
fruit, at the side of the house and a wooden swing hung from one branch,
twisting gently in the light wind. The air was heavy with the scent of apple
blossom and wet grass, and Beth fell in love immediately. It was like something
out of a fairy tale: pastoral, peaceful, and perfect.
    “Is this your house?” she asked as
they got off the bike. It was hard to imagine rough-edged Tanner here, but he
grinned and nodded.
    “I don’t usually bring people
here,” he said, lacing his hands behind his head and surveying the garden. “ Me and my sister share it, and she likes her privacy. No
strangers, no strange dudes, especially. But she’s working today and you’re not
a strange dude, so …” He shrugged.
    Beth went to test out the swing.
The wooden boards making up the seat were wide and sturdy, the frayed rope
holding it up deceptively strong. She gave herself a gentle push, smiling at
the creak of wood as the tree groaned. She glanced at Tanner to see him staring
at her with a hot, naked longing that hit the pit of her stomach like … like
the beer last night. Like his kiss had hit her. She stopped swinging, nerves
fluttering.
    Tanner cleared his throat and sat
on the porch step, beckoning her over. “I need to talk to you.”
    She joined him, careful to keep a
modest amount of space between them. His words were ominous and didn’t match
the raw heat in his eyes. Still, she reminded herself that she was owed a fair
explanation for his behavior.
    “I was kind of a dick last night,”
he said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I just … this is a pretty fucked up
situation, you know?”
    “Which part?” she asked, surprised
at the wry snap in her voice. If he’d been a Church member, she wouldn’t have
dared use that tone with him.
    He shifted uncomfortably in his
seat, and she found she liked that he was nervous too. It made her feel less
inexperienced and naive. “Me kissing you. I shouldn’t
have—but not because I didn’t want to. Don’t think that.” He caught her hand
suddenly, squeezing hard as if he could impress his words on her skin. “I did
want to. I … fuck, I wanted to do a lot more than just
kiss you, Beth. But you can’t … It would have been so fucking sleazy of me,
taking advantage of you like that.”
    “Is it taking advantage if I want
it too?”
    He scowled, but didn’t release her
hand. “Yeah, if you’re a drunk virgin out in the world alone
for the first time ever. I’m not Prince Charming, Beth. I’m the black
knight.” He did let go of her now, cracking his knuckles.
    “Aren’t you being a little
melodramatic?” she asked, resting her hand on his knee. “I wasn’t expecting a
gold ring and a white dress last night, Tanner. I know I can’t stay in town.
Abram will come after me and Nash doesn’t want me to anyway. And I’m a virgin,
but I’m not an idiot. I don’t see my virginity as some mythical treasure to
guard, or something cheap to throw away. If me being a
virgin is a problem here, it’s your problem, not mine.”
    He looked startled, then annoyed.
“It’s not a problem. I just …” He shrugged and covered her hand with his. “I
don’t want to be something you regret.”
    Her heart raced. “That sounds like
something Prince Charming would say.”
    He closed his eyes and groaned low
and long, like a wild animal. “You’re trouble. I knew you would be.”
    Before she could answer, he seized
her, almost dragging her into his arms and kissing her with a possessiveness
that shook her to the core. He raked one hand through her hair, hooked his free
arm round her waist and pulled her hard against him. His tongue plundered her
mouth, exploring hungrily while he pushed his hand up her shirt to sink his
fingers into her skin. Beth clung to his T-shirt, soaking up every touch, every
movement of his mouth and fingers. Searing heat filled her body, and everywhere
he touched her she felt deliciously tender and delightfully