“What about those times when you just need some time for Ian?” Morgan asked. She wanted this so much! But she just needed to be sure . . .
“I’ll go for a run or head to the gym. Same goes for you. If you need Morgan-time, go to the gym or go see Grace. C’mon! I’ll work! Morgan, you’re torturing me, here!”
Looking at Ian with a grin slowly beginning to spread across her face, Morgan nodded.
“Yes. Okay! I just wanted to make sure that we’d talked about . . . everything,” she said.
“Woo-hoo! Yes, she agreed to move in with me!” Ian shouted to the sky. “When?”
“Well, I need to give standard notice to my landlady and have the utilities shut off . . . how about one month? Oh, plus I need to put my stuff in storage,” Morgan said, thinking.
“Two weeks. We’re already at each others’ places more than we are in our own homes, anyway. Move in with me in two weeks and we’ll get your things sorted out together.”
Shaking her head, Morgan came back to the present.
“Man, I’ve got it bad! And I think we’ll be talking about it – if not tonight, then soon,” she murmured to herself. “I’d better get started on the salad and put the potatoes in the oven. But first, I want to call Grace!”
“Grace Scott . . . Oh! Morgan! How are you?” Grace asked.
“I won! John decided to settle and I won!” Morgan squealed.
“Oh, my God! Congratulations! How much?” Grace asked.
Morgan told her. “We had to accept a confidentiality clause that keeps all this from becoming public knowledge. So, he’s paying damages, but gets to keep his reputation in the business community.”
“That doesn’t seem very fair. What did Rick say?”
“To take the offer. Or John could have taken his offer back off the table and we would have gone to trial,” Morgan said.
“But you had a strong case!”
“Very strong. But John is all about image and reputation. He can’t do anything to me anymore, Grace. Rick put in a motion for a permanent protective order that means John can’t even so much as look in my direction, much less try to contact me. If so, he’d go to jail. I got what I wanted – his admission that he’d defamed me and something that makes it illegal for him to call or email me ever again. That’s all I wanted. I have my clients back and I’m getting more work. By the way, how’s it working out with your assistant?”
“It worked out well for about three weeks, then she fell back into her old habits. I fired her a week ago and I’m looking for a new assistant. I have some interviews set up . . . this time, I’m going to make sure that applicants know they can’t mix work with gossip time.”
“Oh, man. Let me check with Mia. She might know of some students who need work-study funding, if the announcement is still open,” Morgan offered.
“That would be great . . . so, how’s it going with the Hot Hunk Editor, Ian?” Grace asked slyly.
Morgan blushed.
“Uh, actually, he’s coming over tonight and we’re celebrating tonight,” Morgan said.
“Whoa! And, I hope it turns into an all-night celebration,” Grace said. As she spoke, it sounded like she was grinning.
“Grace! He’s my editor!” Morgan said as she whispered the last word.
“An editor who’s pretty damn hunky . . . and who happens to be flip-flop in love with you. Come on. When are you going to admit that you two have a viable future?” Grace asked.
“We talked about that a few weeks ago and I told him I’d think about it. So, it could happen sooner than you think,” Morgan said, feeling suddenly brave.
“Woo-hoo-hoo, two of my favorite people in the world! I can’t wait! Fill me in – call me,” Grace said eagerly as Morgan giggled.
“I will. I promise you, I will! I’d better go because I have to bake some potatoes and make a salad. Ian’s bringing the steaks.”
Morgan made a large salad and scrubbed two large baking potatoes, making sure she had dressing, croutons, butter, sour cream and plenty of cheese on hand. Ian rang her doorbell and, coming into the house, he dropped the steaks on her counter and set the wine into the refrigerator. Starting the grill, he came back into the house, where he dry-rubbed the steaks and set them onto the grill. Thirty minutes later, they were eating, laughing and celebrating Morgan’s victory.
After dinner, Morgan, feeling tipsy, carefully walked to her sink, where she washed the dishes. In the living room, Ian draped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her to his side. His other hand went over her slim stomach, holding her close.
Morgan’s eyes closed, loving the feel of Ian’s hands around her. She felt his fingers raise her chin, allowing him easy access to her lips. As they kissed, Morgan’s arms fastened around Ian’s neck and her hands began roaming over his back, sides, arms, shoulders and chest.
Ian, feeling the warmth of Morgan’s hands roaming over his upper body, felt his breath become sharply constricted. His kisses became even hotter and his own hands began roaming over different ares of Morgan’s body. He began unfastening the buttons of her dark-purple blouse, giving him free access to her breasts. He unfastened her bra and feasted his eyes on her rounded, high breasts. He began kissing and laving them with his tongue, feeling himself drawn to other irresistible parts of Morgan’s beautiful body.
Morgan, feeling an electric warmth radiating from her breasts to the center of her body, felt her hips undulating involuntarily. As Ian unzipped her skirt, she felt herself sliding down the back of her sofa until she was lying down. Their lovemaking progressed from there, with Ian picking Morgan’s lithe, slight body up and carrying her to her bedroom, where he set her on the bed. Still sitting, she pulled Ian’s dress shirt open and pushed off his shoulders, then unbuckled his belt and opened his pants. As she saw his shaft standing stiff at attention, she drew her breath in, feeling Ian’s hands on her shoulders, pushing her back.
Before joining her, Ian pulled a condom out of his wallet and rolled it onto his engorged penis. Stretching out beside her, Ian returned to loving her breasts and manipulating her sensitive center. All too soon, he found himself overwhelmed with the need to tower over her and enter her. As he thrust his hips, he felt her welcoming warmth pulsating and tugging at him, welcoming him inside her. Ian and Morgan began an age-old dance of love, first slow, then quick, gentle, then hard. Morgan’s response sharpened quickly and she felt her climax beginning as she felt and heard Ian beginning to spiral toward his own completion. A low cry began building in the back of Morgan’s throat, growing higher the closer she came to her explosion. Ian climaxed at the same moment that Morgan came. His uttered a low, wordless growl into Morgan’s ear, then collapsed next to her, breathing heavily. Morgan, eyes closed, felt sensation returning to her limbs. She smiled, feeling as though she belonged here with Ian, on her bed.
Ian turned his head, looking at Morgan’s dewy face. “I am in love with you. I hope you know that. I’ve been holding back – well, as much as I could – for months, now. I want more than just sex with you, Morgan Adams. I want to love you, get to know more of who you are – and I want to get into arguments about your writing, because I like how your mind works.”
“Really? Well, I’ve been holding back, partly because I wanted to have this lawsuit settled and partly because I wanted to make sure that being more than professional colleagues would be the right thing for both of us – and, while our arguments are professional, I don’t want them to push us apart, Ian, because . . . I’ve fallen in love with you, too. I need to know that a personal relationship won’t harm our professional relationship, because I really can’t see anyone else editing my work.”
“Like I said, I like how your mind works.” Ian pressed his forefinger gently on Morgan’s forehead, then touched her left breast. “Remember, this is connected to this – and I am in love with all of you, not just your mind or body. We’ll make it work.”
“Just promise me, Ian, that a personal relationship won’t affect our profession
al roles. I’m serious – I want you to keep editing my work. I trust your judgment.”
“Well, how does this sound? I’ve been thinking about it for some time now, that you could move in with me – into my house. I own it . . . well, I’m making payments to the bank, anyway . . . and it’s bigger than your place here. We can move your office into mine or into another room, depending on what you want . . . what do you say?”
“Oh, wow. When?”
Just as soon as possible . . . even within this month,” Ian said.
Morgan’s breath whistled out of her lungs.
“That . . . that soon? I’d need to give my landlady notice . . . find storage for my things . . . cancel the utilities . . . get to know you better,” she said.
“Morgan. We’ve known each other professionally for two years, and for most of that time, I’ve been attracted to you and falling in love with you. We can do it and make it work. Come on, love,” Ian said.
“One month. Wow,” Morgan said.
“If our personal relationship begins to intrude on our professional one, then, you can back down – but it won’t. I know you. You’re professional to your core. When we’re in work mode, you’ll be able to focus completely on work . . . and when you’re in girlfriend mode, well, you won’t,” Ian said.
Morgan, caught by surprise at Ian’s sudden fumbling, laughed outright.
“Okay, I think you’re right. I’ll be able to be all writer, all the time when we’re working and, when we’re not working, I can be . . .”
“My girlfriend and lover,” Ian said softly as he kissed Morgan. “Please? I’m dying of nerves here!”
Morgan wondered why she was being so cautious. Ian was . . . everything she’d ever wanted, but had never found in a man, until now. Squeezing her eyes shut against sudden nerves, she released a long, pent-up breath.
“Okay. Let’s do it. I can’t deny my feelings for you any more. I love you and I want to spend my life with you, too,” she said.
The End
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Freelance Love Page 8