HANNALORE’S TREASURE by Skye Michaels
Tyler Brandon’s Office in the Heritage and Archaeology Department, Stanford Archaeology Center, Stanford University, Stanford, California, Friday, July 18, 2014
“Hanna, an opportunity has arisen to visit the new cenote that has just been discovered by my colleague Miguel Lopez-Ruiz during a field survey near the ancient Mayan city of Waká in Guatemala. If it is everything he says it is, he and I are going to cooperate on the excavation of the site next summer. Before I make up my mind, I want to dive the cave and see what he’s found for myself. You might consider accompanying me on this trip. It would be a good chance for you to get some actual field experience on a new project, and it could be very beneficial for your doctoral dissertation.”
Hanna gulped. This was a dream come true, if only it didn’t mean a field trip with Dr. Tyler Brandon, scourge of single women everywhere. He was stunningly handsome with dark good looks and a dangerous reputation where women were concerned. She had to admit that so far he had only indulged in some harmless flirting where she was concerned, but she had no intention of being one of his short-lived conquests. He burned through women like the conquistadors of old had burned through the New World. She hesitated, and she knew he could see the uncertainty on her face.
“Well think about it. I know this is unexpected, but getting to combine a visit to a new archaeological site with a cruise down the West Coast and through the Panama Canal on a luxury yacht is a once in a lifetime opportunity. The ship is called the Golden Dolphin, and it is owned by Jamie Devereau, an old school friend of mine. We were at Harvard together. According to Jamie, the Dolphin just completed a cruise to Alaska and is headed back to its home port of Miami via the Panama Canal. Dredging and construction on the canal expansion program has already begun, and I’d like to see some of that.”
* * * *
Ty could see that his teaching assistant, the very shy and retiring Hannalore Bascomb, was vacillating. This was a great professional opportunity for her, but she was always on guard where he was concerned. He suspected that his reputation as a ladies’ man made her nervous. He could see it in her eyes whenever one of his women came into the office. He tried to discourage unannounced visits, but the ladies were always curious to see where he worked and to get a glimpse of the treasurers that sometimes littered his office.
Hanna was tall and slender with straight blonde hair she usually wore pulled back in a tidy bun that complemented her tidy little lace blouses that were buttoned up to her neck and her tidy midcalf-length skirts paired with conservative pumps. All in all, she was tidy. The rimless glasses she wore usually slid down her straight nose and did nothing to disguise her big blue eyes. He had to laugh though. She thought she hid it, but she had a fabulous body under all those clothes. He was an expert on women’s bodies, and she wasn’t putting one over on him. He would love to get his hands on that gorgeous ass of hers, not to mention those delectable—if he was not mistaken—perfect “C” cup breasts. They weren’t too big, or too small. They were just right. Just ask the three bears. He laughed at himself. He couldn’t help it. He just loved women—all of them—the young and the not so young, the pretty and the plain. He loved the way they thought, laughed, smelled, and felt, especially the jiggly bits. Although she intrigued him, Hanna was not his usual type of woman, but something about her peaked his interest. Maybe it was her shy, sweet nature or the way she looked at him when she thought he wouldn’t notice. He usually liked an experienced and well-trained submissive who knew how to take orders and could deal with his dominant personality. He thought Hanna was a natural submissive, but he knew he would have a hell of a time convincing her of that fact. It might be well worth the trouble though. Still waters and all that…
* * * *
On Friday afternoon, Tyler Brandon was checking out the master suite as he waited for the ship to leave the harbor on its journey south to San Diego. Ty and Jamie Devereau had been in the same undergrad class at Harvard and had been good friends ever since. They had stayed in touch over the years through the various Le Club facilities all over the country. Ty had been surprised when Hanna came to him the day after he’d invited her on the trip to tell him that she had thought it over and would like to go. He had been sure that she would pass on the trip given her naturally cautious personality, and he was delighted when she made her announcement. Of course, he tried to convince her to share the master suite with him, but she said she would need her own space in order to work on the material for her dissertation. It sounded like a reasonable explanation, but he knew she was wary of him. He really couldn’t blame her. His intentions were far from pure. His plan was to rock Ms. Hannalore Bascomb’s world. He would just have to work a little harder to get her where he wanted her—in his bed, preferably as his sub. At almost twenty-eight years old, she was certainly not a young girl, but he really didn’t know just how much sexual experience she actually had. That information had not been included on her résumé. Now that would make an interesting new subheading. He couldn’t help grinning to himself. Sexual Experience: Strong vanilla with light BDSM. Spanking, flogging, and bondage. He was sure those categories would not appear on Ms. Hannalore Bascomb’s résumé.