The Tantric Principle Read online

  He ripped down his pants and thrust into her, keeping the movement urgent, pushing her to her second climax, then slowed his movements to a gentle rocking. Her body relaxed, spent, and she felt him still hard and buried deep.

  "What happened?" she asked in confusion.

  He nuzzled her breasts through the tight lycra, teasing her nipple to tighten and push against the material. "I don't have a condom."

  "Then I can take care of you."

  He chuckled and kept her firmly under him. She felt him pulse between her legs. "No, I just want to feel what it's like to stay inside you for a while. You're so tight, baby, tight and wet.

  I can stay here forever." He rocked again and tugged down her top to lick her nipples. Arianna moaned. The friction on her clitoris kept her on the fine edge of the third orgasm. Sensitive to every movement, he teased her. The rough hair on his thighs scraped against her sensitive skin.

  He circled his hips so she felt the whole length of him pressed deep inside of her. Every sensation felt electrified, her nerve endings raw, her orgasm close. His control was a fine edged sword of pain and pleasure. Time dragged on as he brought her close and back, over and over, until she urged him with her fingers and her voice and her teeth to finish.

  He reached down and found the slick nub. His thumb pressed while he thrust one last time. Arianna screamed as the final orgasm ripped through her and relief and sheer pleasure broke over her in waves. She felt him slide out of her with excruciating slowness.

  Minutes ticked by while they caught their breath. Finally, he broke the silence.

  "You have a temper," he said.

  She snuggled closer. "And I thought you didn't. This was a pleasant surprise." A laugh escaped his lips. "I can count on one hand how many times I've lost my temper in the past year. You seem to bring out a whole variety of emotions." She sighed and gave her surrender. How could she fight a man who wanted control so badly, yet believed in the concept of letting go? Grant taught from the heart and built his entire school on the principles of yoga. Principles such as living in the moment and being present, letting go of negative emotions, and trusting in the Universe. He thought he had succeeded.

  Arianna knew he had not.

  His faith had been shaken and he didn't know how to get it back. The closer they became, she realized he practiced only in theory, but his heart was an ancient medieval castle, and a woman would need a horse and a sword in order to breech and storm the barricades.

  She'd known her heart was at stake from the past week they spent together. For the first time in her life, she felt cracked open to her vulnerable, mushy center. A deep connection burned between them on a level she had never reached with another man. Her gut knew he felt the same way, but Arianna didn't know if he'd ever admit his feelings. How could she fight a ghost from the past? An experience that had shaped the man he was today?

  She didn't need to find any of the answers tonight. She only knew she wanted to be with him, for as long as it lasted.

  "You said you trusted me," he said.

  She spoke softly. "I do. Grant, I'm not looking for validation of our relationship. I'm not looking for explanations every time you have a meeting or flirtation with a student. I can separate business from pleasure and I'm not jealous. I just don't want to be judged on a past experience I can't fight."

  "You're nothing like my ex-wife."

  "I know. But are you going to be suspicious every time I watch another student come on to you? Are you going to worry that I'll turn against you and cause another break in your school?"

  "Missy likes the way she's feeling and she's transferred the emotions to me. I've seen it before."

  Arianna couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips. "I used the same excuse to keep from falling for you. Convinced myself it was like a therapist."

  "Sometimes it is." He didn't speak for a while, and she knew he was uneasy. "Is that what you think we have?"

  She reached down and stroked his erection with her hand. He was slippery from her juices and warm to the touch. Grant gasped and gave himself up to her ministrations, but before he could explode he pushed her away again, breathing deep.

  "Let go," she whispered. "I want to please you."

  "You do. But I follow tantra, so I don't allow myself to come often. My body holds all of the sexual energy and I can go deeper into my practices." His eyes glittered with raw hunger. "I also get my satisfaction from you. Your pleasure is mine. We're linked."

  "Grant?

  "Hmmm?"

  "You're an amazing teacher. And I love the way yoga has changed my life. But I'm not sleeping with you because I'm getting off on secretly screwing my instructor." He dropped a kiss on her lips. "Not even a little?"

  She punched him in the arm. "If you need more time to work this out, I'm okay with keeping us a secret. Just don't get upset when I call things the way I see them."

  "Deal. Now come home with me."

  "I have to get up so early and--"

  He kissed her hard and deep. "Arianna, I want you to sleep in my bed tonight. Even if it's just for a little while."

  The wall holding back her heart shook on its foundation, then slowly steadied. She nodded. They got dressed and walked out together hand in hand.

  Chapter Six

  "You got it."

  Arianna looked up at Tim. He stood in the doorway with a half smile on his face. "Got what?" she asked.

  He shook his head in amazement. "The promotion. Un-frikkin' believable. Sanders promoted you."

  The file dropped from her fingers as his words shot through her brain and squeezed with clarity. "You're joking."

  "Not. He wants you to lead the team for the Rosebud account. Damn, Arianna, he's sending you to Chicago."

  The reality of her situation crashed over her. Sheer excitement fought with pure emotion.

  Grant. She would have to leave Grant.

  Arianna pushed the thought aside and stood up. "Is this official? How do you know?" she demanded as she made her way through the corridor to her manager's office. "Don't start this crap with me that a rumor was started and I have to keep it quiet. You know I don't play that game well."

  He trotted after her. "Don't know what you have against the grapevine. It works for me.

  Never wrong either. You can't just barge into his office and announce you heard a rumor.

  Arianna, wait till he offers you the position, for God's sake." She knocked on the door and tossed him a cheeky grin. "Too late. I won't mention your name." Tim's groan echoed in the background as she shut the door behind her.

  She was moving to Chicago.

  Arianna sat in her office with her blinds drawn, struggling to process the last few hours.

  Tim had told the truth. It was hers. As the head of the Creative Services Department, she'd closed a few big accounts at G & B, but the Rosebud account was in a different league. She assumed Sanders would go with one of the more senior leaders for such an important victory.

  But he didn't. He'd taken a chance on her, and now she was the youngest executive in the company to be piloting an account out of New York.

  She'd spent the last five years working toward one goal: to showcase her talent and head a big account. Chicago was the key. She would be in charge of the whole damn division. The lead person on the biggest advertising deal of the century.

  They were creating an ad for the Superbowl. Just a few precious seconds of television exposure, but during the most watched game of the year.

  Millions of dollars were at stake, months of preparation for the one pitch that would land G & B into the big leagues. The future stretched before her like the yellow brick road of Oz.

  The knock on her door caused her to jump. "Yes?" she called out.

  Grant opened the door and stepped in. "I thought I'd stop by to check out the corporate world. Do you think if I passed out business cards I would get some new students?" She laughed. "Hell, yes. If Tricia let you in, you must have seen her facial tick. I think corp
orate sponsors could open up a whole new world for you." He looked thoughtful. "You're right. I never thought to expand into the corporate environment, but it's a whole untapped market."

  "What are you doing here?"

  Onyx eyes heated and gleamed. "I wanted to see you. I know you're working late for the next few nights so I thought I'd stop by."

  "I'm glad you did." She crossed to him and linked her arms around his neck. He moved in to kiss her long and deep, his tongue lazily exploring her slick mouth with the command of a lover who knows every inch of his mate. She let herself go and sank into the embrace, automatically fitting her hips to cradle his, her breasts flattened against his hard chest. The familiar energy sparked around them, then settled to a low hum.

  "I like your place."

  She let her gaze slide over her office. Arianna had been proud to get a small space of her own, and had to work her way up the ranks from a cubicle to sharing an office with many, to her own. The bright red splashes of color lent a creative air to the space with the wine carpeting and bold watercolors on the wall. Dark cherry wood accents with the desk and matching chair added richness. A lush palm tree stood in the corner, its leafy greens blending with the stark simplicity of the room. Framed photos of inspiring words and mottos hung from the walls.

  Grant paused at one of the quotes. "Dare to Suck." One dark brow lifted. "Very poetic."

  "It is. You gotta love Aerosmith. If you don't, I think our affair will be doomed."

  "Love the guy."

  "Good choice," she said. "He talked about songwriting and freedom. If you're going to shoot for mastery, you have to dare to suck first. It clicked with me." He gave her another hard kiss. "Amazing. I probably could have quoted a guru master in a paragraph. I think you covered it with three words. Would you like to come speak at my next conference?"

  "Only if I get the same fringe benefits I did in Boston."

  "Part of my compensation package." He dropped a small picnic basket on the gleaming wood. "I brought you a late supper so you wouldn't be tempted to do the fast food thing." Pleasure speared through her while she peeked in the basket. "Hmmm, brie, crackers, fruit, olives."

  "I just wanted to drop it off, I know you're busy."

  Arianna took in his long corded length clad in faded jeans and a black t-shirt with the word OM on the front. His hair was raked back from his face and set off the slash of cheekbones and fierce brows. He was her own personal warrior and she was getting dangerously close to. . . .

  Danger.

  He brought her food, but didn't expect her to re-arrange her schedule. He seemed to admire who she was, and what she'd accomplished without assuming she'd change for a relationship.

  Arianna snaked her fingers through his and pulled him down to the carpet. She hiked up her skirt and kicked off her heels, settling herself comfortably on the floor. "Eat with me. I need a break."

  He sat cross legged beside her and emptied the basket. "So, tell me exactly what you do," he said. "I hear advertising and I think about the movies. Posterboards, big accounts, long hours."

  Arianna popped a wheat cracker with Brie in her mouth, then spoke. "Pretty much like the movies. At least, my job is. My main title is the manager of the Creative Services Department. I lead a team which comes up with the ideas for ads, print, television, radio, internet, etcetera. I deal with copyright, graphic artists, and a thousand personalities. But my mainstay is coming up with a killer idea and then selling it. Products and companies are always looking for branding. The next big catchy theme song, like the Gap commercials or the Geico gecko."

  "Hmmm, maybe I should hire you for my yoga school."

  She grinned wickedly and reached for a grape. "Got about $500,000 in available funds for one ad?"

  He choked. "Crap. I guess I need to stick with the pennysaver." Arianna laughed. "Guess so. Though if you want to branch out, I can help you with the marketing."

  He smiled at her with pure pleasure. "You'd do that, wouldn't you?"

  "Of course."

  He seemed to file the knowledge away and continued. "So what account are you working on now?"

  Guilt nipped at her conscience. She wanted to tell him about Chicago but she needed more time to think and process the outcome. She stretched her legs out in front of her and caught the look on his face. She teased him by deliberately spreading her legs. His gaze snagged on the lines of her lacy pink underwear. "I'll tell you what account I just closed. Do you see what I'm wearing?"

  "I'm a little distracted by what's underneath."

  "That's what I'm talking about. Rosebud lingerie."

  One black brow shot up. "You're kidding? That's getting as popular as Victoria's Secret.

  Isn't that the commercial with the woman half dressed ready to get spanked? Then she pulls her head up and whispers "Rosebud. Get your man to do anything."

  "That's it."

  He blinked. "Did you come up with that line?"

  She nodded and looked quite proud of herself. "It was a bit of a risk and I almost took the bullet. Thought it could be too sexual, but boundaries are being pushed and we can't be afraid to test them."

  He shook his head in admiration. "You're good."

  "Thanks. But there's always someone better waiting to take over my job. You're only as good as your last win. That's why I ended up in your yoga class. I needed some balance." Grant stared at the woman in front of him and felt his chest tighten in an age old response he wanted to avoid. Wine red strands of hair fell past her jaw with a glossy sheen as she turned her head. She popped another grape through pouty red lips that were too big for the features on her face, yet worked to pull a man right in. Her eyes were a moody shade of green that reminded him of storm tossed seas and mossy hills, quick with laughter and temper. She wore a buttery yellow top that looked soft to the touch, and molded to her full, high breasts. Her chocolate brown skirt showed off lean, tanned legs. Arianna Devlin was a firestorm in a feminine package.

  She constantly surprised him. Her ambition, her heart, and her honesty. She had created one of the biggest advertising campaigns in a cut throat industry, yet sat with him on her office floor, legs open, eating brie and laughing like it was any other day.

  He was falling in love with her.

  The knowledge wrecked him and ripped him to shreds. Dear God, he had no time for this nonsense. He wanted to have a hot affair for as long as it lasted, then part amicably. He should have known. From the first day, the woman had never inspired tame emotions. She'd cut through his relaxed control and made him want to rip off her clothes and thrust into her with possession.

  He wanted to own her in the basic way a man loves a woman. Such primitive feelings were foreign to him. Even his first wife commanded a loving sweetness and protectiveness, but never these darker emotions. Primal instincts buried deep for all of these years rose. Instincts he didn't want to deal with.

  "Grant? What's wrong?"

  He opened his mouth and almost blurted out the words. Truth for truth. He loved her, goddamnit, and they would both have to accept it. He almost said it. Then--

  "Oops, sorry!"

  Grant turned toward the door as a tall man with sandy colored hair stood before them. He looked caught off guard, then instantly curious. Grant knew right then and there he had been lovers with Arianna. When his gaze swung to hers, he noticed she looked wary, almost as if she was afraid he would guess and judge her for it. Or as if she was hiding something.

  He pushed the thought away and concentrated on being polite as she introduced him.

  "So, you're the yoga guy," Tim said. Grant almost winced at the awful term but managed to nod. "I thought so. Maybe all that deep breathing was worth it after all. Some promotion, huh?"

  Arianna visibly flinched, then seemed to force a smile. "I didn't tell him yet, Tim."

  "Crap. Sorry, again. Didn't mean to interrupt, just wanted to see if you were pulling in Cindy to work with us tonight."

  "Sure, I'm up for some brainstorming."


  "Done. Nice to meet you."

  Grant watched the man stride out in his perfectly tailored suit and decided he didn't like him. He studied Arianna, who looked way too interested in finding the perfect black olive, and suspected something was wrong.

  "Promotion?"

  Her laugh seemed forced. "Yes, I didn't get to tell you. Seems the Rosebud account got me the recognition I wanted. They're moving me up the ranks." He pondered her statement and made sure he spoke mildly. "You don't seem too excited about it."

  Her gaze swung up and locked on his. His gut clenched with anticipation for something she would say, something disturbing, something that might change his life. But she only smiled, soft and slightly sad. "I am excited. I just found out a few hours ago so I think I'm in shock."

  "It's a big deal, isn't it?"

  Arianna nodded. "I get to head the account. I'll be working on a Superbowl ad, so yes, it's a big deal."

  'Then we're going to celebrate. I'm taking you out tomorrow night, if you're free of course."

  "I'm not."

  "Hot date?"

  "Yoga class," she said.

  He moved in and pulled her onto his lap. She expected a kiss, but he managed to tickle her tummy and made her squeal out in surprise. "Cancel it," he ordered. "Come out with me instead."

  She agreed and his mouth came down on hers.

  Arianna expected dark passion and received sweetness. His lips sipped at hers, then dipped inside to play. His tongue stroked her with a heavy languor that made her limbs melt. He explored the satiny wetness of every inch of her mouth, then slowly broke away. She let a sigh of satisfaction slip from her lips. "Ok, we'll compromise. Class first, then dinner," she said.

  "You drive a hard bargain."

  Her hand slipped from his neck to between his legs to find him pulsing and ready. She squeezed and gave him a wicked smile. "No, but you certainly do." He threw back his head and laughed. "You're a hell of a woman, Arianna." For one brief moment, she felt the energy in the room change. An unanswered statement, a question, hung heavily in the air. She felt as if she was drowning in the dark inkiness of his eyes, pulling her downward, urging her to tell him the truth.