Possessing Morgan

by Bonnie Edwards

  She was one strange mixture and he wanted to know all he could about her.

  If her decision to help them caused irreparable harm to her, he’d surrender the Morgan and deal with getting it back while Lindsay was on her honeymoon.

  But if he surrendered the car right now, he might never see this woman again. That idea irked him.

  Her shoulders hunched and it looked like she was being given a hard time by her manager. He wanted to rub her back, smooth her shoulders, take her burden, but that was way too much for her to accept at this point.

  Jack flipped his phone closed. “The IT guys are on it. We’ll know soon where the breach was and how it was done. What’s the word from the bank?” He slanted an assessing glance at Morgan’s back. “She having a hard time?”

  “Looks like it. She’s supposed to take the car in, regardless of what we say.”

  Jack nodded. “She’s taken a leap of faith. A quick background check shows she’s got no record, single, and has lived in the same place for years. Not a great neighborhood, but it’s not the worst, either.”

  “So, she appears to be what and who she says she is?”

  “Pretty much. But I’ll look deeper if you see yourself spending more time with her.” His gaze sharpened.

  “I see myself spending as much time as it takes with her.”

  “As what takes?”

  Mac rubbed his hand down his face to help sort out his feelings. “I’m not sure.”

  SO FAR, MORGAN’S conversation with BB had been straight and to the point. “I’m telling you, this car has been paid for. There’s some mistake, BB.”

  “Did I not tell you that something weird would happen on that estate?” BB let out a sigh but didn’t wait for the I told you so to sink in before she went on. “The dealership was not paid. I don’t know why and I don’t care. Neither should you.”

  At least she’d stopped yelling about Morgan being inside the house. Even BB realized she wasn’t in any physical danger. There wasn’t a tire iron in sight. “You still expect me to bring in the Morgan?”

  “You still want a job?”

  An empty threat. BB wouldn’t fire her, but her uncle might. BB was only two years older than Morgan, but at twenty-eight she already had a decade of experience in the business. Morgan bowed to that experience now. “All right, give me a couple of hours.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Mac’s invited me for a coffee on the patio.” Her belly heated with anticipation. Time alone with Mac. Her wildest fantasy come true. Out of her depth, she didn’t quite catch BB’s next question.

  “Mac? Who’s Mac?”

  “What? Oh, Mac is Kingston. BB, he wants me to hang out with him. Alone.” She didn’t mean to sound giddy, but she couldn’t help it. The feeling was familiar but ancient and, she’d hoped, long-buried.

  She thought she’d learned her lesson back with Johnny DeLongo. She’d been a sucker and he’d all but destroyed her life.

  The thrill felt the same, but Mac didn’t want her to steal cars. He didn’t want her anywhere but in his bed. Her belly fluttered in anticipation because she was halfway there.

  “Morgan.” BB’s voice drew her attention. “Be careful. Don’t let him go to your head.”

  “That’s not where he’s going.”

  “Oh, jeez. Be careful.”

  “I will. How much time can you give us? I mean, me?”

  BB made her wait half a minute, while Morgan’s nerves screeched at her to hurry. Mac was waiting. Finally, Morgan added, “His chief of security is looking into serious problems. Identity theft, computer hacking. They need time.”

  “And you want this time with McRae.” She sighed. “Two hours.” She disconnected.

  BB must be in a good mood. She’d only threatened Morgan’s job once. Morgan turned back to see the men deep in conversation near the door. Mac didn’t seem worried, just attentive. Jack looked deadly serious.

  Still out of her depth, the events that brought her here seemed stranger than ever. Maybe this was a dream.

  She must have swapped work orders with Joe last night, then gone home and fantasized this whole scenario. Either that, or she’d fallen asleep under that overgrown bush across the road and she was about to wake up with a snort.

  But her denim sack purse felt real as she curled her fingers into it. She curled her toes, too, and felt the warmth of her work socks. And her hands still smelled of the expensive scented soap from Mac’s powder room.

  The warmth in Mac’s eyes was real. The welcome and the interest were real, too. She melted at the sexy, smoky look he flashed her.

  “Take care of it, Jack. Call me when things are back on track.” His gaze darkened in intensity. Her panties moistened in response, while thrills of arousal danced low in her belly.

  “What about tomorrow?” Jack asked.

  “My orders on the wedding stand.” Mac’s voice was no-nonsense as he turned toward her. Jack backed off. He went up the stairs without another word, leaving Mac and Morgan alone in the front hall.

  Excitement vibrated around her. Alone with Kingston McRae. She couldn’t believe it. He took her breath when he focused intently on her. On her! Morgan Swann. She tried to convince herself she was dreaming, but what good was reality on a morning like this?

  Reality could ruin a woman’s good time. And Mac was promising a very good time.

  “How did it go with your manager?”

  She had to clear her throat. Words wouldn’t come. Right, when she wanted to speak, her mutinous mouth failed her, but when she should be quiet, she blurted out rude questions. She tried again. “Two hours.” She swiped her hand down her shorts onto her thighs. “But, whoa, was she angry.”

  “I’m grateful, Morgan.” He reached for the hand at the top of her thigh and raised it to his lips. Reality slipped another notch as she watched him turn her palm up, only to dip his head to kiss her there. Tingles of awareness skittered down to her sex and back up to her heart. The moment stretched as he lingered over her palm.

  She stood frozen, drinking the moment like honeyed tea.

  Her heart thumped so hard she figured he could hear it. “You have a wedding?” she squeaked. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear.”

  “Rory’s granddaughter Lindsay is getting married. We need the car for the wedding.” His eyes warmed with affection. “She’s like a kid sister,” he explained, and a wire that had been strung taut inside let go.

  “Oh, that’s nice. I like weddings.” She’d been to seven of her mother’s, but she still loved to hear the vows. Empty but pretty words for Elizabeth. Every time she heard her mother say them, Morgan made her own vow. If she ever chose to speak the words, every one would carry a lifetime of promise.

  “That’s why you bought the Plus 4. It has a backseat.” Very thoughtful. “It will make a beautiful wedding car.”

  “After the reception we’ll take the bride and groom to the marina. I’ve offered them my yacht for a cruise. The groom has somewhere special in mind.” His eyes focused on her mouth as he pulled her inexorably closer. She licked her lips, fascinated as his eyes flared into twin flames, enticing her to give in to the dream.

  Her mind slipped into automatic as he lowered his head. Close. So close. His scent rose and mingled with her vanilla body lotion to blend into something spicy and erotic. She was dreaming!

  Her world narrowed to Mac, his intentions, his need. Her own. She sighed and tilted her mouth upward. When she parted her lips, he took them softly, a test of her willingness. She slid into the kiss, let his mouth move on hers, tasting, coaxing.

  He tasted of coffee and man and need.

  She pressed against his mouth to move the kiss from tentative to definite. It may have been a while, but her body revved up in record time.

  He lifted his mouth. “You taste like sunshine.”

  “You taste delicious.”

  “Will you be fired for asking for extra time?” His hips settled lightly against her lower body, his h
ands sat at the flare between her waist and hips. Such large, warm hands. The weight of them held her while his heat seeped through her cotton T-shirt to her skin and deeper, straight into her muscles.

  “Not fired, but BB was angry. She knew I switched paperwork with one of the guys so I could come here this morning.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “We don’t get many calls on Mercer Island. I figured I’d get a peek at how the other half lives.” She waved a hand at the foyer. “You do okay.”

  He laughed, hard. “You not only taste like sunshine, you bring it into this mausoleum. You threw open the door and breezed in.”

  He slid his hand down to hers and held it. Her arm tingled and she tried to wake herself, but why bother? Why ruin a perfectly good fantasy? Reality was never this good. “Let’s go get some of Rory’s coffee. I haven’t had my full share today.”

  “Caffeine, elixir of the gods.”

  He led her into a massive kitchen at the back of the house with French doors that opened onto a patio and pool. Mac pulled out a stool for her at the granite-topped island. Then he poured her a steaming cup of French press coffee. Her first taste was heaven. “Mmm, did I say elixir?” When she put the cup down, he was looking at her from the far side of the island. She patted the stool beside her. “You could join me.”

  “You’re safer if I stay over here.”

  She heated through to her core. “Oh.”

  He cleared his throat. “How much trouble will you be in at work?”

  “I’ll take care of it. It’s Joe I’m more worried about. He’s with BB now. He’s taking the brunt of her lecture about drivers going places without her knowing.”

  “Joe’s the man you switched with?”

  She nodded.

  “This Joe. Why would he do you that favor?” His gaze went sharp with the question.

  She raised an eyebrow. “I promised to put in a good word for him with BB. He likes her, but she has a thing against dating the drivers. You may be surprised, but not all of them have always been upstanding citizens.” She counted herself in that lineup, but it was too early in the conversation to mention it and she was already on shaky ground with Jack.

  “Why’s Jack so suspicious of me?”

  “He’s angry about some security breaches, and is hyperaware today. Your recovery of the Morgan is just another in a short series of strange events. You’re the first person he can eyeball for anything. So you’re at the forefront for suspicion.”

  “So, like, kill the messenger?”

  “Something like that.” Mac smiled. “Jack will liaise with BB. They’ll sort it out in no time.”

  “Liaise? Sounds good.” She drained her cup and set it gently on the countertop. She idly turned the cup between her fingers. “Jack and BB. Two pit bulls, one on the attack, the other on defense.”

  “Speaking of pit bulls, I admire your determination to get onto the grounds. You waited for hours across the street. Then picked your moment.”

  She warmed at the praise, but it was no more than what she did on a daily basis. “People in the recovery business must be tenacious.”

  “And clever, too, I’d imagine.” He reached across the counter and swept a tendril of hair from her cheek. Heat traced across her skin.

  The tabloid stories hadn’t done him justice. The clock ticking down the seconds seemed louder, more insistent. She couldn’t let this chance slip away on small talk. Her interest in Mac had nothing to do with the World Courier stories and everything to do with the man himself. Her mind cleared. She wanted more than idle conversation.

  She wanted this dream to segue into every fantasy of Kingston McRae she’d ever had. She remembered her decision to share quality time under the covers with a man.

  “We have two hours,” she whispered, thrilling at what she was about to say. “Let’s make the best of them.”

  5

  “I’M TRYING TO BE A gentleman, Morgan. If I walk around this island, I’ll be anything but.” He nailed her with his gaze as she straightened on the kitchen stool. “Think carefully. Are you sure?”

  She glanced at the clock on the wall, heard the tick—louder, insistent. “One hour and fifty minutes. Time’s wasting.”

  MAC NEEDED NO MORE encouragement as he stepped around the sandwich bar. Morgan flowed into his arms, as eager as he was. Her bottom filled his hands like melons warm from the sun. Her soft flesh brought him to full arousal. Civilized man dropped away as his inner cave dweller took over.

  He kissed her, taking her mouth hard.

  “If this is a dream,” she whispered, “don’t wake me till it’s over.”

  He promised and kissed her again, molding her hips to his. Images flashed behind his eyes of Morgan as she’d stood up to him, to Jack, to her manager. Impressive. Lovely.

  Her desire became an irresistible siren call to his primal male. “Are you sure?” he asked again with the last coherent thought he had.

  “Please, Mac. Yes.”

  She smiled, looking warm and pretty. Her lips were puffy from his kisses, the skin of her neck red with sexual flush. He trailed his hand down her slender arm and took her fingers to lead her to the foyer.

  They took the stairs wrapped in each other, silent. Jack could emerge from the second-floor office at any moment. Rory could appear in the hall, efficient and curious.

  He didn’t want either man to see Morgan in this most private intimate state. This Morgan, this wanton, needful Morgan was for him alone.

  He slid his hand from her waist to her buttock and gave her a light squeeze of appreciation. She was perfect, from her burnished auburn waves to those sexy, rolled-down work socks. When she squeezed his butt cheek, too, he almost howled with the need to hurry.

  He took the lead and showed her into the master suite. As the door clicked shut, he pressed her against the wall, plundering her sweet mouth, seeking full surrender. The rush, the hard-driving lust shocked him speechless.

  But he couldn’t stop himself. Her scent, her need, her wild response drove him higher, harder, faster than any other woman. Between, kisses heated whispers sent steam up his spine to explode in his skull.

  She smoothed her hands up his arms to his shoulders. “So much strength,” she said before giving him her mouth again. She hitched her hips higher, closer to his erection. He lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. Still not enough, not nearly enough.

  His hands slipped up the back of her shorts to hold her naked flesh. His cock surged painfully.

  Morgan moaned and undid his shirt buttons. “Need to touch you,” she murmured, and swept her hands to his chest. “Oh, hair! I love hair.” She finger-combed him, then found a nipple and drew it between her lips. His hips bucked in response.

  “I’ll lose it right now if you don’t stop.”

  She took a deep breath and sighed. “You smell so good.” Then she found his other nipple and teased it with gentle scrapes of her teeth.

  Powerful urges to take—fast, hard—shocked him into stillness. The purely male need to complete the act paled in comparison to completing it with this woman. She was the one bringing him to his knees with want. He strained to hold back the tide. “Won’t make it to the bed, Morgan.” He pressed her back into the wall for support while he groped for his fly with one hand. His brain fogged as flames sparked in his lower spine.

  She tipped her head back, her eyes ablaze with dark yearning. “Protection?”

  That one word slowed him enough to carry her through his sitting room to the bed. He set her on her feet on the mattress, and put his face to her chest. He bowed his head and drew in air while his heart pounded in time to the thudding of hers.

  “It’s been a while for me,” she said. “I don’t do this kind of thing.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you by going too fast.” But he wanted to plunder and take. Wanted to bury himself inside her. This floundering made no sense, but all he could do was ride it out. See where it led.

  With her? a
whisper came. Why not her?

  His breathing slowed, control returned. He nuzzled her breasts and sucked in her scent while she pulled off her T-shirt.

  Her cleavage was spectacular. He tugged the bra’s half cups down to see her nipples. Her breasts were high, round and tipped with dark rose areolae. She clasped his head and brought his mouth to her. He caught the tip of one breast and sucked strongly. Her knees buckled and he held her up with one hand.

  He palmed her thigh with the other and slid his fingers up, up, up to her core. Her wonderful, sexy, alluring short shorts gave up her secrets in a heartbeat as his fingertip found her wet center. She moaned and creamed moisture onto his finger at first touch. So responsive, so needy.

  “This is crazy, but I trust you, Mac.” Her eyelids drooped and he let her sag to the mattress. Her boots dangled over the edge.

  “These boots,” he said. “You want to talk crazy? These things turning me on is crazy.” He lifted both feet and placed them on the bed, then opened her legs to accommodate the breadth of his shoulders.

  Her soft inner thighs filled his vision. She slipped her hands down to cover the narrow denim crotch.

  “You’re so lovely, Morgan. May I look? Please?”

  THE HANDSOME PLAYBOY wanted permission? Morgan held her breath to keep her head from spinning. She slid her palms to her thighs to give him the view he begged for.

  Using one fingertip, he drew soft circles on her inner thigh, close to her needy flesh. She moaned and moved her hips but he did no more than bless the inside of her knee with a kiss.

  She shuddered at his tenderness. “Please, Mac. Touch me.” His shoulders braced her legs open, leaving her vulnerable. But oaken flames danced in the depths of his gaze while he ran his hands to her bottom and tugged off her shorts.

  Surreal eroticism kept her spellbound. This was Kingston McRae…no…this was Mac and she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  Moist heat bloomed between her legs.