“Where is Gunner? I’m surprised he didn’t let you know I was here.”
I jut my hips forward and then circle them, ending with a few good pelvis thrusts into the air. I have semi-wood, so it swings in a nice, complementary pattern.
When she grins, watching my moves in her peripheral, I say, “He didn’t get tickets to this show. It’s too scandalous.” When she takes another step toward me, she’s close enough to touch. I pull her against my warm skin and dip my head low enough to kiss her. She moans as my lips close over hers, her hands run up my arms to lock around my neck in a tight embrace, her minty tongue flips against mine.
I let my hands wander to her ass and give it a squeeze. Her jeans are tight. I haven’t even been privy to a back view and I know how fucking hot she looks. I yank her against my hard-on. She smiles against my mouth. I’m naked—fully exposed and she is clothed. It’s part of the plan.
“I ordered out dinner,” I whisper at her mouth. She breathes out a heavy, hot, loaded sigh. It’s confirmation. Morganna stares at my mouth ravenously. “Let’s use our mouths for eating first. Then, I have some plans. I need you tonight, Morganna.” She takes a small, measured step away from me.
Ignoring my plea completely, she asks, “What did you order? When you said a date at your house, I worried you might cook or something equally as thoughtful, as it would turn out devastating.” She laughs at her own joke.
Stooping down to pick up my towel, I wrap it around my waist. She takes one last look as I struggle to wedge my dick inside the cotton blend. “I would never torture you on that level.”
She sits at the edge of the bed as I drag a comb through my wet hair. “When were you going to tell me about the new camera you installed without my permission, Steven?” It’s obvious this was the first thing she wanted to ask me, and my big ol’ dick distracted her from it.
I need to make sure she realizes it’s not a big deal. Unless Phillipe told her otherwise, which I don’t think he would, it won’t be that big of a deal. I shrug and walk into the ensuite bathroom. “ It was the only area that wasn’t covered. Just finishing the job I started. Did you have that area unprotected for a reason?” I catch sight of her in the steamy mirror. She’s looking down at her folded hands in her lap, thoughtful.
“It’s my house. I can handle my own business, Steven. You should have asked me first. That should have been my decision.” Her voice carries into the bathroom. I’m sweating a little from a hot shower, a little from being turned on, and a little because I don’t want to get busted. If she’s this mad about a camera, I can only imagine what level of heat I’d take if she knew I suspected someone was inside or around her house. That would be a warzone unlike any I’ve ever faced.
I swallow down my pride. Because this is the type of woman Morganna Sterns is. This is why I love her. She’s not weak. She doesn’t want anyone’s help. She’s a slice of badass with a brain and a body built for my personal, carnal desires. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would have minded. If I thought for a second I was overstepping my boundaries I wouldn’t have done it.” Pride squashed. Fight staunched.
Morganna looks into the bathroom, trying to find my face in the mirror—trying to see if she can catch a tell. Am I lying? There’s a reason I’m in the bathroom. “I appreciate the apology, but you need to know that I control everything in my life.”
I should be offended, because a man takes care of things for the woman he loves, but instead I find myself smiling like a lunatic.
Turning on the balls of my feet, I stride past her sitting on my bed and head for the kitchen. “That’s what I’m counting on,” I say, winking over my shoulder. Warily, she follows me out.
We eat Thai food. I kept everything in the delivery mild for obvious reasons. Hot sex with a burning stomach is the death of desire. Morg smiles and laughs at my jokes, but I see the worry in her eyes—the way they roam my body when she thinks I’m not watching. I know exactly what she’s doing. While we’re cleaning up, the looks between us get hotter, her gray eyes taking the lazy, turned on shape I know and love so much.
“So, about tonight,” Morganna starts. “I’m not sure…” her words trail off. I shake my head. I’m not sure I can stand to hear her talk herself out of it and stay true to my plan.
“There’s no pressure. Nothing to worry about.” I walk away from her into the living room to turn on a streaming radio station—something I know she’ll like—and turn. We’re face to face, her body radiating heat that my cock can feel. In a word, she looks vulnerable, pliable…easy. Words that no one associates with Morg. I bring my hand up to cup the side of her face. She leans into it and into me a little further. Sighing a pent up breath, I feel my body begin to unwind in tiny increments just from her proximity.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Both our heads turn to face my front door. After a few more seconds the deadbolt turns and in walks a blonde, coifed Chloe. Life has other plans for tonight, obviously. Fuck.
Now, you have to understand that I’ve seen this woman naked a million times and she’s hotter than your average dime piece. So, when my eyes rake over her short trench coat and bare thighs, I know right away that she doesn’t have anything underneath except a landing strip and a pair of silicone titties so perfect they’d make Hugh weep. The trench coat routine is my favorite. Wonderment and utter fear hit me like an unexpected crash-bang.
My good sense finally snaps into focus. I look at Chloe’s face. Only her face. “Chloe. What are you doing here?” I ask, walking toward her, mostly in a vain attempt to block Morganna’s view. Morg’s silence makes me uncomfortable. This situation makes me uncomfortable. I don’t dare turn around, though. Chloe’s neck cranes to look behind me. Her face lights in legitimate confusion.
“I got your text,” she explains, one hand digging in her purse by her side. Her hot pink iPhone is in her hand the next second.
“Your shoes are to die for. Who are they by? Giuseppe? Charlotte Olympia?” Morganna asks, the fake placating tone weaving her words. I cringe as Morganna walks to stand next to me in the foyer, her narrowed eyes assessing whatever it is that’s going on. She knows she’s naked underneath the coat, too. I’m not sure how this situation could possibly get any worse.
Chloe smiles at Morganna. “Thanks. Olympia. Surprised to see you here, Morganna.” She looks back down to her phone as her finger scrolls wildly. “You texted me. I need to fuck tonight. Those words. Verbatim. You’re lucky I was in town,” Chloe says, trying her best to keep her gaze trained on my face. When her gaze darts to Morganna she rasps, “Or not.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t. I didn’t text you today.”
She holds up her phone for both of us to see. “You did.”
I squint my eyes and there is the text from Steve Warner with the incriminating words just as she said.
Morganna clears her throat. “You two obviously have some unfinished business to attend to.” I listen to her leave the room just as my surroundings start to swim in a bloody shade of red. Cody. He texted Chloe.
“Stop,” I command, spinning to face Morganna’s retreating back. “I did not text her, Morganna. I swear it.” She pauses, but continues walking back to my bedroom.
“You have some serious explaining to do, Steve.” Chloe folds her arms over her chest. “Unless you’ve upped your game and lie in the face of evidence, then what the hell was the message about?”
“I didn’t send it, Chloe.” I rake both hands through my hair and look up to the ceiling. “I didn’t fucking send the text message!” My voice echoes the space.
I feel bad. It’s not her fault. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t send it. Cody was fucking around with my phone earlier.” The sadness in her eyes is palpable and I feel about three feet tall. My emotions are all over the fucking place.
“I messed it up for you, didn’t I?”
I approach her, and hug her as innocently as I can. The horrible lump creeps into my throat. Sucking in a deep breath I say, “No. It’s f
ine.”
It isn’t fine.
I lean away, leaving my hands on her slight shoulders. “It’s not your fault, but I need to go fix things with Morg. Okay?”
She smiles a weak, hopeful smile and I realize something. She thinks I’ll change my mind about our relationship. That we stand half a fuck’s of a chance in a normal relationship after the screwed up affair we carried on for years.
I shake my head. “We would never work. Even if I wasn’t in love with her, Chlo. It wasn’t meant to be between us.” I wipe a tear from her eye and watch her hopefulness turn bitter. She nods and leaves without another word, her expensive shoes stealing her into the night and out of my life forever.
My shoulders fall. Morganna. I scrub a hand down my face. Round two.
“I heard it all.” Her voice breaks the silence. I turn, my hands on my hips, my confidence completely shattered. “Why would Cody do that?” she asks.
“Because he’s a mother fucker. And also because I was whining about my celibacy. He probably thought he was doing me a favor.”
She rounds the corner, crossing one ankle over the other leaning against the doorway. “You haven’t exactly been celibate. Or are you so addicted to actual sexual intercourse that you can’t function without it?”
I cross to her in three large strides and take her face between my hands. “I’m fucking addicted to you. Don’t you understand?”
Her gray eyes widen, but she doesn’t speak.
“I want you. I’ve always wanted you. Now that I’m this close to actually having everything I’ve ever dreamed of, I’m going a little crazy. I. Want. You. Before, when I thought you were named Morga-liscious, when you were married to one of my best friends, while I dated other women, I’ve wanted you. I had no right, but it didn’t stop my feelings.”
I kiss her forehead as she absorbs my words.
“My past isn’t a secret. I was a misogynist asshole with a radar for easy holes.” Morganna winces, but smiles just the same. “It occurred to me that I’ve been waiting for you all this time. Just waiting for the right time. I’m not proud about how long it took, or what you had to go through to get here, but we are here. We’ve arrived at the perfect timing. I’m sorry Cody was an asshole. I’m sorry I was an asshole.”
Saying “I love you” will never be enough. I know I have to show her by respecting what she wants, by loving her silently, cautiously, in doses so lethal that I have to ration myself.
She hugs me around the waist, pressing her face into my chest. “You told her you were in love with me.”
It sounds like a question. “You knew that already, Morg. You’ve always known—a subconscious ticking or thumping that if you listened hard enough you couldn’t fucking ignore. You had to have known.”
She looks up into my eyes, and I see so much there—the pain, the love, our past, unspoken words, shattered lives, and everything in between. When your life flashes before your eyes at death, it’s the end.
But the look we’re sharing now? It’s the beginning.
“It always was set in stone, wasn’t it?” Her word choice takes me aback. I swallow loudly.
With a slight nod and a half smile, I lean down and kiss away any question.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Morganna
I BELIEVE HIM without question. Steven would never lie to me.
Seeing Chloe in all of her perfect glory did cause an internal bout of jealousy so large I had to leave the room. No one else was aware of it, thank God. Jealousy doesn’t look good on anyone. It forces you into a box that is easy to judge and hard to ignore.
I pull away from the kiss, panting. “You could have just told me if the celibacy was giving you that much trouble.”
His hand slides down to my waist, where his grip tightens. “I wanted everything to progress naturally. Old Steven would have sweet-talked his way into your pants the night in my truck. Morganna’s Steven wouldn’t dare approach that level of slut.”
I scoff and place my hands over his. “It’s not like I would have turned you down. I like you the way you are. The way you’ve always been. I’d never ask you to change.” He smiles, this cocky, beautiful thing, and I think I melt a little. The way women do in movies because sometimes you can’t ignore attractive, self-assured men. It goes against everything I’ve strived for in life. Most importantly, I don’t care.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” So am I.
I shake my head, trying to force Chloe’s tanned legs from my mind. “Already forgotten.” I realize how hard a feat it will actually be. His admirers are still littered in his life. My solitary love is long gone. The unfairness of the situation is so obvious he’s apologizing for it.
He releases me to rub one hand through his hair. “Yeah?”
I wink—an over exaggerated, sarcastic move. “Yeah.”
“Where were we before Cody decided to seal his fate?” His lips form a straight, angry line. Steven’s a big boy and can take care of himself, but I have to admit that this stunt even irritated me. Sometimes the guys can act like moronic children. It’s okay most of the time, because it’s how they keep their heavy lives and careers light. I can’t blame them. When it’s time to work, they are serious and focused and lethal. When they aren’t working? Well, I guess it depends on the day of the week. It’s a draw to the personality type. The effervescent chameleon.
Grabbing my hand and pulling me toward his bedroom, he picks up a small black shopping bag on the way. “Let me show you what I have in mind.” His large strides leave me trying to keep up on my short legs.
“You could just tell me, you know.” I hear my cell phone chiming from my extra large handbag in the corner of his room. I let go of his hand and stoop next to the bag, which contains a change of clothing, and dig for my cell. I don’t even look at it before silencing it and tucking it back at the bottom. “You may also want to move your spare key,” I say, glancing his way with a smirk.
He’s already taken off his shirt and his bone frog tattoo is proudly displayed on his chiseled, tanned back. Standing, I study everything else about him.
He looks over his shoulder at me. “That’s a good idea. While I’m gone, you should go through the bag and make a plan of your own.” He slinks out of the room, with a pair of dark wash jeans riding low on his waist, exposing his V and the fact that he’s not wearing underwear. Bless the mini miracles in life.
I go through the black bag and find two pairs of handcuffs and a blindfold—nothing too criminal, nothing too normal either. He’s purchased these items for me…so he can get laid. He’s heeded my need for control. My heart rate picks up as I turn the cuffs over in my hands.
Guilt. Guilt.
It bubbles to the surface. I can’t deny I want him. I also can’t deny I want to control him. So I won’t feel like he’s Stone. I close my eyes and take in a breath when I think about Steven’s perfect body and his known track record, the way he’s touched me, kissed me in the past. Something akin to stage fright trickles into my awareness. I don’t have time for that. I don’t have anymore time.
I sit on his large bed and look to the ceiling. It’s a smooth, plain white—it soothes my nerves. Sliding my shirt over my head and wiggling my jeans to the floor, I gain the courage I’ve never needed to look for before.
Kneeling on the bed in my sexy lingerie, I connect one pair of handcuffs to the wooden slats in the headboard. I’m tugging on them to make sure they’re secure when Steven saunters back into the room, his smile so wide and so white that all I want is his lips on mine.
“You approve?” He arches a brow and bites the corner of his lip.
I tilt my head to the side. “But of course. Come here you naughty boy.” I smile with my eyes. He laughs, shakes his head, sucks in a breath, and is on his back, hands extended over his head in the next breath.
“Am I allowed to talk? Because I have the best joke right now.”
“Should you be joking right now?” Straddling his chest, I lean over, mak
ing sure my breasts graze his face as I fasten the cuffs around his large wrists. “I mean, your offenses are pretty horrible.” He can’t see me stifle a laugh as I move to his other hand. Click. His chest is moving up and down rapidly. I press my hand against his chest. “Don’t worry. You’re just a prisoner of love. Not war, Steven.”
His eyes search my face. “You know how out of my element I am right now?”
I nod. “Just this once,” I say, kissing his pink, dry lips and then his neck. I feel him pull against the restraints when I let my tongue dart out and lick the shell of his ear. “Thank you,” I whisper.
I take his jeans off and stand over him, with one foot planted on either side of his waist. I feel powerful—tall, standing over such a huge man. His erection stands between us and every part of my body tingles with anticipation of it finally being inside me.
“It’s a shame your hands are indisposed tonight. They’re pretty amazing at a few things.”
He smiles up at me. “Let me out. Just one cuff. Think about what these two fingers can do.” He folds all but two fingers down, making me squirm, because I’d really love to have those fingers inside me right now. His face relaxes as he gets used to the new dynamic.
I unfasten my bra and let it fall over his face. He moves his head side to side to clear his view.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Morg. So fucking beautiful.” He shakes his head, like he doesn’t believe it.
I’m not sure what I did to deserve this—a man who understands me, all of me—and loves me anyways. I can’t be this lucky twice. It goes against nature; it tests fate.
“Let me kiss you,” Steven growls, his eyes dancing between my breasts and my mouth.
Walking up the bed, ending with one foot on each side of his head, I pull the lace panties to the side, exposing myself right above his face. “Kiss me here?” I ask.
His mouth drops open as he nods. A shock of wetness flows exactly where I want it. The cuffs jangle as he moves his shoulders to make room for my knees. I keep my panties pulled to the side and kneel, placing his mouth directly on my wet core. The second I meet his hot mouth, I sigh in relief. I’ve needed this just as much as he has.
The Crazy Good SEAL Series: Books 1-3 Page 49