Her Master at Last

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Her Master at Last Page 12

by BJ Wane


  “You could very well be the death of me, Morgan,” Jack said on a long-suffering sigh before removing her hand. The slight sting from her nail had him seeping in pleasure, but he wasn’t about to give in to her in this case. She needed to rest after the marathon of sex he’d put her through the past few days. With a laugh of pure contentment, he kissed her hard, swatted her ass, and jumped out of bed. Smiling at the way she rubbed her red cheek and glared at him, he warned, “You know what that look will get you.”

  “You sure know how to put a damper on my fun, master,” she retorted sarcastically. Pulling the covers up, she snuggled back down into bed. “You’ve had your fun, now go away.”

  The persistent peal of her phone woke her an hour later. Not fully awake, she grabbed the offending object off the nightstand and greeted the caller with a terse, “What?”

  “Is that any way to answer your phone?”

  Groaning, Morgan rolled over, sticking her head under the pillow. “What do you want, mother?”

  “Are you ready to come home yet, Morgan?”

  “What do I have to do to get it through your head I’m not marrying Joel? And, if I do come home, it’ll only be to pack my things and return here. I want to be with Jack.” Damn it, for once, why couldn’t her parents be supportive?

  “Then you leave me no choice. If you don’t return home immediately and attend your engagement party Saturday night, your father will buy Jack’s loan on that place and then call it in. He and his partner will lose everything.”

  “You wouldn’t!” she gasped in outrage, jerking upright with trembling anger. Jack and Marc both loved this place and had worked hard to make it successful. There was no way she’d be responsible for them losing it.

  “We would,” Kathleen stated, her implacable tone coming through the phone clear as a bell. “Your father wants this merger, and since you’re our only child, you’ve left us with no choice.”

  “So my happiness means nothing to you?” she whispered, feeling the crushing blow of defeat press down on her.

  “Really, Morgan, must you be so melodramatic? You can have a perfectly nice life with Joel. After you give him a child or two, you can do as you please, as long as you’re discreet. You can even spend your vacations in the mountains with Jack. After all we’ve done for you, you’d think you’d be grateful enough to repay us by helping out with this.”

  Morgan closed her eyes, wishing she could shut out her mother as easily. Her parents had always thought sending her to the best boarding school in the country, making sure she had gourmet meals and fancy clothes, was all a child needed. Thank God she had Jack and Agatha to show her someone cared about her, that she was worthy of love.

  And because Jack meant everything to her, had been there for her when no one else had, she would not allow her parents to destroy his dream. She knew how hard he had worked and saved to buy this place. How could she bear it if she was the cause of him losing it? He would hate her if that happened, and that was the one thing she couldn’t bear.

  “I’ll leave today, mother. Tell Joel I’ll be there in time for the engagement party.” Morgan hung up and then ran into the bathroom. Standing under the shower, she let the sobs come. She had been so close to having everything she had ever wanted. It was only with Jack she had ever been truly happy and when he had mentioned being together for fifty years this morning, she had thought her heart would burst. Now, her future looked so bleak, she didn’t know how she could stand it. Jack would hate her after this; after pursuing him, practically throwing herself at him while assuring him it was what she wanted, he would never forgive her for turning away.

  She couldn’t do it, she thought, struggling to stem the flow of tears. She couldn’t look into his face when she told him she was leaving without telling him why, and could never reveal her parents’ threat, forcing him to choose between her and the lodge. That wouldn’t be fair, and though she had often been selfish in her demands of him when she was growing up, she wasn’t a neglected little girl any more, needing him to be there for her. This time, she needed to do what was right for him, no matter how much it hurt.

  After drying off, she tried to cover the evidence of her tears with makeup and hoped Jack wouldn’t notice. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, she swiftly stuffed her few belongings back in her bag, including Jack’s flannel shirt she had lived in the past week. One week, that was all she had with him, all the happiness she would ever know. Of course, she had no intentions of staying with Joel permanently. After she produced the required heir, she would file for divorce. She may have lost Jack, but that didn’t mean she would spend the rest of her life with that jerk. She’d raise her child with all the love she never had and hope someday she could tell Jack the truth and he would forgive her.

  Leaving her bag until she could get away without being seen, she padded down the hall toward Jack and Marc’s voices coming from the kitchen. Pausing to take a deep, fortifying breath and put on a fake face, she stepped into the great room on shaky legs.

  “Well, look who finally woke up,” Marc greeted her with a smile.

  Morgan gave him her best smile, praying she fooled them as they each looked at her with worry. With hope, they’d put her reticence down to embarrassment over their threesome last night and not question her.

  Jack noticed the change in Morgan as soon as he saw her. Since she was fine when he left the bedroom earlier, he could only surmise she felt uncomfortable around Marc. Remembering what happened between Marc and Cassie, he hoped he hadn’t pushed her too far too fast. She had seemed to enjoy including Marc last night and had embraced the whole encounter with as much enthusiasm as she has everything else he introduced her to. Not that he intended to share her often. Maybe she needed to be reassured of that, and of his feelings for her.

  “We saved you some banana pancakes. Come help yourself.” Setting a plate in front of her as she took a seat at the counter, he then poured her a cup of coffee. “Marc and I have to go back to town to pick up supplies at the post office. Want to come?” He hoped having her accompany them with no sexual overtures would help put her at ease.

  “No, thanks. I’d rather draw some more,” she replied, thankful they were making her getaway easy. She needed to leave as soon as possible before she broke down and selfishly put her own happiness ahead of his.

  “Morgan,” Marc chided. “If you don’t want me to go, I’ll understand.”

  “No! I mean, that’s not the reason. I really want to come up with some better sketches for Stephanie.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure.” Kissing her, Jack knew something was bothering her. Vowing he’d get it out of her when they returned, he said, “We won’t be long.”

  Morgan listened to them joke as they went downstairs and knew she couldn’t leave him without saying one more thing. Running to the balcony overlooking the lobby and foyer, she called down to him as he opened the front doors. “Jack, I love you.”

  He smiled up at her. “I know you do, princess. I love you too.”

  It wasn’t the first time they had said those words to each other, but it was the first time they meant more than as a friend. She prayed it wasn’t the last time she heard them.

  * * *

  Jack sat in the unlit club room and downed another whiskey. He and Marc had returned from Bear Creek by midafternoon and he’d known as soon as he’d stepped foot into the loft she was gone. A quick search had told him she hadn’t left anything behind except a short note stating she had changed her mind and wanted to return home. His first thought had been to go after her, demand an explanation and that she give him another chance. But he hadn’t been able to do it. He had only ever asked one thing of Morgan and that was for her to trust him. Apparently it was the one thing she hadn’t been willing to give.

  With a bleak stare at the empty room, he remembered how the little minx had been brave enough to sneak in and spy on the activities she was unaccustomed to seeing, brave enough to risk his wrath and punishment. And then, much to his
surprise and pleasure, she had been brave enough to accept her punishment and embrace him and his lifestyle with all the enthusiasm she had always shown for new adventures, especially when they included him. In just a few short days he had put her through a sexual marathon, wasting no time introducing her to the pleasure/pain of sexual domination. And she had taken to each new experience with wholehearted enthusiasm, her multiple orgasms proof of her acceptance. So, why in the hell had she run instead of coming to him with her insecurities? Was it the threesome with Marc that sent her fleeing back home or was it something else? The only thing she had left him was a single sketch of his mountainside with her signature, that and heartache.

  “I thought I’d find you here.” Marc joined Jack at the bar.

  “Sorry, Marc.” Pouring another drink, he offered the bottle to him. “Care to join me or are you here to try to convince me I didn’t fuck up?”

  Taking the bottle, Marc capped it and put it out of his friend’s reach. “You didn’t fuck up, Jack. Think about it for a minute.”

  “You’d think we both would have learned our lesson with Cassie, wouldn’t you?” Jack asked, his voice laced with sympathy because now he knew firsthand how Marc had felt this past year.

  “What happened with Cassie wasn’t the same. I screwed up big time with her and I admit it. I was so fucking obsessed I let that blind me to her youth and inexperience. Hell, Jack, I was an experienced dom assigned to a newbie. We had no relationship before I railroaded her into letting me top her on beginner’s night, and the few nights after. When I wanted to share her with you, I didn’t consider her innocence. I wanted that experience so bad for her, I never considered she would look at it as a betrayal. We both knew how easily new subs mistake their desire for submission as desire for just that dom. If you’d quit wallowing in self-pity, you’d see the difference.”

  “If it wasn’t the sharing that made her leave, then what was it?” he demanded, having no clue why Morgan would take off without at least speaking to him first.

  “That’s what you need to figure out. Have you tried calling her?”

  “No, and I’m not going to. I asked her to trust me, Marc, and she didn’t. That girl isn’t shy, not with me. You’re right, we’ve known each other for twenty years, told each other everything, nothing was off limits. There is nothing she couldn’t talk to me about, nothing we couldn’t work out together. She chose not to and I refuse to chase after her like a lovesick puppy. This is exactly why I didn’t want to cross that line from friendship to lovers,” he finished with all the bitterness eating at him before downing his drink.

  Marc’s grin was rueful as he pointed out the obvious. “But you are a lovesick puppy.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Nah, you’re not my type.” Sighing, Marc rose and returned the whiskey under the bar. “When you sober up, think about something. All her life, she’s run to you, thrown herself at you, risking her heart in the process. If I were to guess, her leaving probably had something to do with protecting you rather than herself. Maybe, for once, you ought to be the one who runs to her.”

  Jack cleaned out his glass and then stumbled upstairs. Without bothering to change, he fell into bed and cursed when he automatically reached for her and she wasn’t there. God damn it. Tomorrow, he would chase that girl down, demand an explanation, and then beat her ass for pulling this latest stunt.

  * * *

  The next evening, he was just finishing packing a bag for his flight the following morning, when his phone rang. Recognizing Agatha’s number, he snatched it up, hoping she had news of Morgan. He had tried all day to call her, but she either wasn’t answering or she had packed her phone where she couldn’t grab it while driving. It took over fifteen hours to drive from Denver to Chicago, and now he had to worry about her being on the road alone, which just pissed him off more.

  “Hello, Agatha.”

  “Jack, thank God I got hold of you. You’ve got to get here as soon as possible.”

  Agatha’s frantic voice sent a chill through him. “Calm down and tell me what’s wrong. Is Morgan all right?”

  “All right?! She’ll never be all right if she goes through with her parents’ demands. That poor girl showed up here an hour ago looking exhausted, her eyes swollen from crying. And what did they do? They just said they were glad she came to her senses. I swear, those two are the coldest people I’ve ever met.”

  Jack paced, knowing from past experience he had to let Agatha vent before she could get to the point. “Agatha, do you know what’s going on, why Morgan returned home without talking to me?”

  “Of course I do. I held the poor girl while she sobbed her heart out and told me how they were blackmailing her into following through with this ridiculous sham of a marriage. They threatened to buy up your loan on your lodge and then call it in, ruining you. Poor dear, she couldn’t bear it if they caused you to lose that place. And now they expect her to attend this engagement party tomorrow night as if everything was fine. You won’t let our girl go through with this, will you, Jack?”

  Jack cursed, wearily rubbing his face as he realized how easily this could have been avoided if Morgan had just come to him. The loan Marc and he had on the lodge and the surrounding acres was at a small bank, privately owned by another Army buddy of theirs and also a frequent visitor. There was no way Jeremy would sell him out.

  “Of course not, but I want your word you won’t let on to Morgan that I’m on my way there. She’s going to face me and the consequences for not trusting me before I tell her that her parents’ threat is futile. They can’t hurt me.”

  Chapter Nine

  Morgan snatched another glass of Champagne from the server as he walked by. Chicago’s elite filled Kathleen and George Tomlinson’s home, everyone there to celebrate her engagement to Joel Norris. The huge ballroom, which they usually kept closed off, echoed with the sounds of laughter and the melodious strains coming from the small orchestra in the corner. A sumptuous buffet ran the length of one wall while the opposite side of the room opened out onto the patio. The white marbled floor shone under the bright glitter of twinkling chandeliers. People mingled, smiled, danced, and congratulated her, and she was oblivious to it all.

  Downing the full flute, she relished the burn and subsequent buzz as she forced herself to smile and pretend to be deliriously happy. Her parents kept close to her side for the first time in her life, and Joel made the effort to be seen with his arm around her or giving her a perfunctory kiss every so often before moving off to entertain himself with friends.

  “Honestly, Morgan, must you drink like a commoner?” her father growled under his breath.

  “Yes,” she snapped back, “that is if you want me to get through this charade without giving away what a farce it is.”

  “You always were an ungrateful child,” he returned with cold disapproval.

  “Spare me the lecture, father. I’m not in the mood to hear what loving and caring parents I have.” She wanted nothing more than for this night to end so she could return to her apartment and wallow in grief.

  A commotion at the front of the room caught their attention. Morgan watched wide-eyed as people parted and a tall, light-haired man strode with arrogant purpose into the room, his dark beard lending him a rough look. His worn jeans emphasized his thick, muscled thighs as he walked with slow, deliberate steps toward her, his dark eyes never leaving her face. Morgan’s eyes filled with tears as the past twenty years ran through her head: her first sight of him when she was just seven years old and he fifteen; their reunions each summer when she returned from school; his patience with her as she followed him around all day and pestered him to entertain her; her heartache when he left for the Army and her joy when he returned; his anger when he caught her spying on him and his date; their first kiss; the arousal only he could sate.

  Jack found her right away and his reaction came fast and hard. Wearing a hideous dress designed to hide her figure instead of flaunting it, she stood surrounded by
people and had never looked so alone. Memories of the past assailed him: the lonely little girl who clung to him like a lifeline; the way she would exuberantly throw herself into his arms each time they were reunited; his exasperation in teaching her to drive; his concern when she cried when she hurt; the way he missed her when he left for the Army; the thirsty lust only she could slake. She watched him out of drenched whiskey eyes and his anger at her parents matched his anger at her for daring to throw away everything they had.

  “Jack.” Morgan had to physically fight back the urge to fling herself into his arms. It had only been two and a half days since she had seen him and she missed him more in that time than at any other time they were separated.

  “Princess.” Holding out his hand, he watched her with grave eyes. “I’m asking you one more time and one more time only. Trust me?”

  Struggling to get past the sudden lump lodged in her throat, she realized Jack was throwing himself at her for the first time and there was no way she could turn away from him. In all the years she’d known him, he had only asked one thing of her. Praying she wasn’t making a mistake they both would regret, she took his hand. “Yes.”

  “Then let’s go.” Jack pivoted to lead her away when Kathleen stepped in front of them.

  “Morgan, this is a disgrace. If you do this, you know what we’ll do.”

  “No, you won’t,” Jack stated, his voice dripping ice. Looking down into Morgan’s worried face, he reassured her with a deliberate wink. “They can’t touch our loan, Morgan, so don’t pay any attention to their threats.”

  Relief filled her, making her giddy. Looking back at her mother, she smiled then leaned forward to give her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Goodbye, mother.”

  * * *

 

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