by Lily LaVae
“Sorry, you can’t pay ahead. It doesn’t work that way.” Her driver stared at her in the mirror and waited for confirmation that he should go.
“I’ll have to run up to my apartment and get payment when we get there.”
He nodded despite his frown. If she’d been in his position, she’d feel the same way. He turned on his signal and slid into traffic. The farther from Morgan’s bus she got, the more the tension she’d been feeling eased. Morgan made her nervous. He made her a lot of other things, too, but nervous was a big one.
The driver pulled up in front of her apartment. She handed him the two rolls of quarters and climbed out. “Just wait here with that. I’ll come back down in just a minute.”
He laughed at her, but it was better than what she’d expected. Everyone seemed to release their anger on her lately. Once she’d returned with her spare bank card, he happily waved and drove off, leaving her to her apartment and Morgan’s laundry.
She hadn’t done the wash for a grown man since she’d lived at home and her older brother would come home from college. He was quite a bit older than her, but she’d done laundry even from an early age. While she tossed his clothes in the washer, she went to her room and picked up all her old clothes. She hadn’t been back there since that day she’d applied at the DBA. When she’d paid ahead on her rent, she hadn’t come back to her place. She’d lived at the DBA apartments since she’d had to go through extensive and fast “training.” Morgan had been chosen for her almost right away, but they wouldn’t let her leave until she’d completed their courses. Everything had happened so quickly, she hardly remembered anything.
A white scrap of paper in the midst of her piles of clothing caught her eye. She picked it up and turned it over. It was Ed’s business card. Kent’s warning hadn’t fallen on deaf ears. Ed was about the only person she trusted. If she ever found herself stranded, she could call him to come and get her. He owed her that much after dropping her. Though, she had to admit, he’d been right in some ways. Just being with Morgan had done wonders for her. She had changed her attitude when one year of good behavior was all that stood between her and freedom. She slid the card and her cell phone charger into the laundry bag. She’d left so quickly, she’d forgotten her purse back at the bus.
Once Morgan’s clothes were washed and folded, she grabbed her spare keys off the wall and locked up her apartment. The air had cooled considerably while she’d been inside and an idea came to her as she slid behind the wheel of her car. She would tell Morgan that she’d follow his bus, that she’d sleep in her own car. She didn’t need to be under his feet or in his way. That would save everything. If she was only around him during work, he wouldn’t have long enough to be reminded of his past and she wouldn’t have to remind him to keep his hands to himself. It would save everyone. Then, after a year, she could leave and they would both be happy.
She turned the ignition on her car, and glanced at the clock. Crap. She’d taken a lot longer than she’d planned since she only had one washer. Hours had passed with the special care items he’d had. It was now well past supper and Morgan might be wondering where she was, or not. It seemed, where she was concerned, it all depended on his mood.
“Where the hell is Eloise?” Morgan stormed around the parking lot where all his buses and staff were parked, searching for anyone who may have seen her. She’d left hours before and if she ‘d gone to the laundromat where he’d told her to go, it would’ve taken her a couple hours at most to do everything.
His driver looked suspiciously smug and Morgan took that to mean he knew something. “Why the hell aren’t you with my assistant?”
The young man scoffed. “That isn’t my job. I drive you around—not someone on my pay grade. I called her an uber.”
He wouldn’t have a pay grade at all if he didn’t cut the crap. “And just how did you expect her to pay for that? She doesn’t have a car here. You never had a problem toting around my other assistants…”
He shrugged as if he couldn’t care less and he probably couldn’t.
This life was tiring him out. “If you can’t do your job, then get the hell out. It’s not like finding someone willing to drive me around would be that hard. Maybe I’ll just call an uber whenever I need.” His driver rolled his eyes again and that was it. He was ready to punch him in his smug little face.
The sound of a car door slamming interrupted his driver’s immediate removal from his crew. He turned to see who it might be. Behind him, Eloise opened the back door of a car he’d never seen before and gently pulled his laundry bag out. Even in the twilight, she was easy to spot. She didn’t smile at him, nor did she look particularly happy to be there. But he sucked in a breath of relief.
He started toward her worry battling with frustration and needing an outlet. “Where the hell have you been?” He wanted to both throttle and kiss her. He had never worried about an assistant before.
She slammed the car door shut. “I had to pay the uber driver using the coins you gave me, so I had him bring me home to do your laundry. Here.” She dug in the bottom and grabbed a few things then shoved it at him.
He didn’t want to hear excuses, he wanted her to know just how terrified he’d been that something had happened to her. His blood was still pumping hot after worrying about her. “Go put it away.”
She cocked her head back. “Excuse me? I’m not your maid.”
He wanted her in the bus, now, so he could discuss with her how he felt in private. Not in front of his entire crew. “No, I don’t have one of those. Need I remind you of just how much more money you’re earning than the average assistant?”
She huffed off toward his trailer, but at least she was safe. When three hours had passed and she hadn’t returned, he’d been sure she’d been attacked in some dark alley beside the laundromat and that his driver had left her there to die. He needed to stop downing so many energy drinks. His imagination got away from him.
As he filed past all the people he employed and they stared after him, he wondered if they could sense the difference between Eloise and the other assistants he’d had. Was he as obvious as he felt? His trailer seemed small and the walls thin as he strode all the way back to his room to confront her. He simply couldn’t stay away. She had to know the effect she had on him.
Eloise knelt on the floor, putting away the folded clothes in his built-in dresser and closet.
“Eloise, come over here.” He waited for her to listen and hoped she didn’t argue with him. He didn’t want a fight. On the contrary. If she was going to give him the feeling of home that he’d been missing—without ever having to go back to Tennessee—he was going to hold tight for as long as the ride lasted.
She stood and joined him by the door. “Have a drink with me?” He thumbed behind him to the main room with the mini bar.
“I don’t drink—haven’t for almost two years and I have the job you gave me to finish, since you pay me so much.” She spoke as if afraid to speak loud enough for anyone but him to hear.
“Leave the clothes. I don’t care about them. I need to talk to you.” He couldn’t quite make himself say please. But he might just resort to begging if she didn’t let him in soon.
“I told you. I don’t drink,” she mumbled.
“Why not? Were you an alcoholic? Should I get rid of what I have?” What was he thinking? He’d never offered to throw out his bar, ever, but for her… He would do it.
“No, it’s not that. It’s just…I used to get crazy when I had too much. Now, I don’t do that.”
“I’m not asking you to get drunk with me.” Though he’d like to see her a little crazy. “Come on. We can talk a little bit over my captain.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. At least she got his humor.
9
Two drinks in and she felt her tongue loosen. As he poured her a third, she knew she was lost.
“You said you haven’t talked to your brother in a year. Does he even know where you are? Do your parents?
You had a great family. I don’t understand why they would shut you out.” Morgan sat the glass tumbler in front of her. It was dark and more than half full of ice. The glass slid slightly across the table on top of the condensation.
She would normally have told anyone who asked her about her brother to kiss off, but this was Morgan and the rum made her feel warm and far too loose-lipped for her own good. “He didn’t think I’d make a good mother. He agreed with my fiancé. At least, he was my fiancé at the time.” She picked up the glass and slammed half of it, needing to give her mouth something to do besides talk. It burned all the way down. She needed that burn. Needed the bit of ache it caused. She deserved to hurt. It had to be her fault her little man died. There was no one else to blame.
Morgan sat back, all muscles and smugness, sipping his drink. She’d lost count if he’d had more than her or not. “Why should it matter if you were a good mother or not? You don’t have a child and he wouldn’t be the father. If your fiancé was such a jerk, it’s good you let him go.”
She hadn’t admitted to another living soul she’d lost the baby. Her parents, brother, and Liam had known, but she ran the moment she was discharged from the hospital. Morgan had no idea she was a mother in her heart, and always would be.
She stood, pacing in the small space and threw back the rest of the drink, pounding the glass on the bar on her way by. “It mattered because I was in labor when he left me. It matters because Jordan took his side, not mine. It matters because…” She couldn’t say the rest, hadn’t even been able to tell her therapist and even under the freeing alcohol, she couldn’t say it out loud. Her son…
Morgan was to her in a moment and grasped her shoulders, giving her a little shake. “Your ass of a fiancé left you when you were in labor?” He stared down at her, his dark eyes boring into hers. “Tell me I heard you wrong. Because right now, I want to kill him.”
She was so tempted to tell him everything, to finally give up what she’d been holding inside for so long. She shook her head. It was all she could do. Her throat burned more from the tears than the rum.
He pulled her close, gently, and she was surrounded by muscled arms and a solid comforting chest. Safe, protected. In his arms, nothing could reach her. She didn’t have to lash out to keep people away. She didn’t have to curse and throw things. She could just be a wounded bear and…heal. She wrapped herself around him and clung to the back of his shirt, the tears coming faster than she’d ever thought they could. A whole year’s worth.
“Aw, baby. Don’t cry,” he mumbled into the top of her head. “Maybe Jordan had his reasons. I don’t know what they could be, I wasn’t there, but neither Jordan or that ass are worth your tears.”
Morgan had disappeared shortly after graduation and no one had heard from him or Kent again. After a while, she’d forgotten them. Jordan had gotten a job but had avoided marriage and she’d found Liam, who broke her heart. When she’d felt the most alone, she decided to run. Dallas was as good a place as any to disappear and that’s just what she’d done.
“I can’t go back and I can’t face them. I ran. They were so cruel.” An unwed mother wasn’t something her parents could tell the neighbors about. She’d been engaged, but since the “damage” had been done before the rings were exchanged, no one had wished her well or offered to help. No one even seemed to notice when her time came. She doubted they even noticed she was gone.
“I can’t make you do anything, but… If I go back and face my past, will you come with me and face yours?” The deep furrows on his brow told a tale of hardship that might be even deeper than her own. Making that bargain was killing him, and why do it? She was no one to him.
“Why? Maybe I would understand if I was your wife, but I’m not. I’m just your assistant and one you don’t even like all that much. Kent told me you were thinking of firing me already.”
Morgan tensed his thick arms and he squeezed her tighter. “Not true. Don’t believe everything he tells you. I was worried about you and the things your presence makes me think about, but I never said I would get rid of you.”
She pulled back to see his face better and before she could prepare, his lips were over hers. His heat was more than she could take, and every wall melted down around her. There was no reason to stop him. She wanted what he offered. She wanted his protection, his attention, his comfort… his body.
His hair was softer than she thought it would be and she ran her fingers through it, in it, holding close to him. She needed his kiss, his touch. As he ran his hands up and down her back, every inch of her skin came alive and she wanted his hands on her—not just her clothes. He growled as she pulled away from him, but only long enough to whip her shirt off. He gave her a cocky smile and took his off with one arm, exposing all those tats she’d wondered about.
He ran his hands up her sides, his thumbs testing the weight of her breasts. “I’m suddenly very glad that there isn’t anything about you that reminds me of the child I once knew.” His voice was rough, like it probably was after a concert. She didn’t even trust her own.
He was nothing like the boy she’d known, either. Unrecognizable. She pushed up onto her toes and took his mouth again, needing to feel in control of something. He held her tight his hands slowly gliding up her body and to her face. He held her there until he was done tasting her mouth, the onslaught of his kiss like a verse building toward the chorus.
He took his tantalizing lips from hers making his way down her jaw. “We’re too exposed here in the front.” She felt light-headed as he made it to her neck. “Let me take you back.”
This was her last chance to say no, but she didn’t want to. For the first time since Liam, she wanted—more than anything—the attention of a man. This man. She nodded and in a moment, she was lifted in his arms. He maneuvered them both through the room, down the narrow hall and into his bedroom.
He gently let her down and after she found her footing his thumbs slid into the waistband of her jeans. She unbuckled his belt—that was as much permission as she could give with her mouth busy on his. Her skin was hot, even with the windows of the bus open. The breath of air over her thighs as he slid her jeans over her ass did little to quell the building heat inside her.
He kissed her throat and his hair tickled her ear, the tangy scent of his skin became part of her.
“This is your last chance to stop me. You put that clause in the contract, but if you willingly break it…” He nipped her again.
A little pleasure, a little pain, but she couldn’t stop now. “No.”
He pressed his lips to her shoulder. “No?”
“No, don’t stop.” She could hardly breathe and hoped he heard her.
He found her mouth once again and as he kissed her, led them both to the bed. She felt him, hard against her stomach and she couldn’t recall if she’d removed his jeans or if he had. It didn’t really matter.
When the back of her knees hit the bed, she sat and his bulge was right in front of her. She reached for his waistband to relieve him of his last stitch of clothing and he stepped back, out of her reach.
“Not yet. You’ve gotten to hear me sing. Now, I get to hear you.”
She couldn’t sing a note and didn’t understand, but followed his lead as he slid her to the head of the bed. With a deft motion, he unfastened her bra with one hand. It was on the floor and forgotten moments later.
“I don’t sing, Morgan.” Hell, she could barely breathe.
He chuckled. “You will.” His gaze started at her lips. “When I tease you there, it will start a quiet, soft moaning.”
She bit her lip, already feeling heat and need pooling low in her belly.
His gaze slid down to her breasts and under his intense stare, her nipples hardened. She could imagine what he planned to do to them and a little gasp escaped her.
“When I make it to there, you’ll get a little louder. Perhaps even say my name.”
He leaned back and tilted his head as he traced one finger do
wn to her navel. “About here, your voice will quiver better than any operatic soprano.”
She was already quivering, and he hadn’t even done anything yet but look at her. His finger made a leisurely stroll lower and he cupped her, his thumb tracing the edge of her panties. “By the time I’ve made it all the way down to here, you’ll sing a G better than I ever could.”
It was too much, she leaned forward and gripped his shoulders. “Less teasing, more doing,” she growled as she took his lips. She could feel his laugh as his warm hands slid up her back and into her hair, cradling her back into the pillow. The weight of them, as he guided her, was exhilarating. She’d never been held down before—or even really held.
He slid on top of her and—just as he’d threatened—he started at her mouth, exciting her until she couldn’t breathe. Her panted breaths came more like little moans and his lips conquered her lower and lower still until she thrashed on the bed, her only thought, her need and how he was the only one who could satisfy it.
“Morgan…”
He laughed. “I told you. Are you ready to sing?” He anchored himself on either side of her shoulders and stared down at her, his body poised to take her.
She gripped his hips and freed him slowly. He finished the job and she tried to pull him close, to make him do what she wanted, what she needed, but he wouldn’t budge.
“I won’t take you until you tell me to,” How hard his voice sounded above her, his restraint was amazing.
“Now.” Was all she could manage.
He arched and the ache built inside her. It was like a sunrise. Once started, it could not stop. She kissed his neck as he moved inside her and, to her wonder, she seemed to be affecting him as much as he was her. His breath came in bursts and his face tensed and relaxed as his own climax built. He, the man she’d never expected to please, was turned on by her. She raked her nails down his back and he thrust deeply in her as he hollered.