by Lexy Timms
“I want you Katie.”
The words inflamed her. That desire grew when his hands found the buttons on her jeans, undid them quickly and pushed them down her legs. His head dipped to her belly, his teeth grazing the flesh right below her belly button and she thrashed wildly, pleasure taking hold of her and keeping her prisoner as his hands caressed her skin, undressed her slowly, and found the most secret parts of her body.
She sat up and let her fingers fly to his jeans. The room spun, she’d drunk a little too much, and she was ridiculously eager to see him naked. So freaking eager that she could barely get his belt undone, or the button free on his jeans. Morgan’s lips on her neck and ear were part of the distraction. She finally got them undone and pulled his zipper down. His large hot erection filled her palm with its heat. The silky flesh covered a rock hard muscle below and she wanted it—she fucking wanted him. What he did to her without even realizing… she didn’t care, she just wanted him to quench her feral need for him, any way he wanted to. She didn’t care.
She wrapped her fingers around that thick and hot rod, pumping her hand up and down the shaft until he gasped and muttered, “That feels so fuckin’ good.”
“You feel good,” she murmured thickly. “What you do to me...”
Morgan’s sharp square teeth closed over the hard crest of her nipples, his fingers closing over the white flesh around those rosy peaks. He suckled and tugged gently at her nipples, making her gasp and whimper.
Her legs spread, and he dipped his head, his tongue sliding along the soaking wet skin of her hood before it circled her throbbing nub and then pressed against it, hard, before whipping across it from side to side. The sensual torment was almost unbearable. She gasped, her hands clutching the pillows by her head as she lifted her hips, trying to grind closer to his mouth and tongue.
He moved upward. His body bumped against hers, his erection sliding between her legs but not penetrating her swollen passageway.
She cried out, her body writhing against the sheets. “Please. Now, Morgan. Dammit!”
Morgan entered her, hard and fast.
They strained together, both of them moaning loudly. Katie came, hard, her entire body exploding and shuddering. She’d never had an orgasm that intense. She was sure of it.
She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper inside her. He moaned and swore under his breath, “Dammit Katie, slow down, I’m going to—” Morgan came, his strong forearms shaking and his body straining forward until he went limp and fell onto the mattress beside her.
Katie looked up at him and giggled as he lay panting beside her. “That was an awesome party.”
He laughed. “I thought you enjoyed it.” He ran a finger over her breast, pinching her nipple between his thumb and finger. “I kinda enjoyed the after party more.”
She nodded emphatically and then had to blink. Her vision was doubling and she knew tomorrow she would have one hell of a headache. She didn’t care. She was happy right now, and that was all that mattered. She whispered as she dropped her head back against the pillow, “Will you stay the night?”
“If you want me to.”
“I do,” she whispered.
He cuddled her close, his body pressed tightly against hers.
Katie whispered in his chest, “I hate this fucking apartment.” Then she hiccupped laughter. She was drunk and should be careful or she would talk too much. She closed her eyes but the room spun sickeningly so she opened them again.
Morgan was studying her face carefully.
“What?” She slid her leg over his hip, loving the feel of his warm skin rubbing against hers.
He smiled. “You’re even cuter when you’re drunk.”
“You should have warned me about that wine.”
Morgan chuckled. “It was in a box, Katie. That should have been warning enough.”
“Shit, I know. I’d never had wine from a box before. It was delightful though, I mean it. I wouldn’t trade it for all the wine at the Berkley Club.”
“The Berkley Club?” His eyebrows went up. “You mean that restaurant downtown where the waiters all look like they’re constipated and the people going in look the same?”
“They go there because they’re constipated.” Katie laughed. She didn’t know why but it was funny as hell. “The food doesn’t help either. You get a bite of something that has been foamed and moussed and spun until it doesn’t even resemble whatever it started out as.”
“I’ll make a note to never take you there.”
“Oh, you couldn’t,” she said as she stared at the sexy tattoo on his chest, tracing the heart with her fingertip. “They don’t even put prices on the menu. Not for anything. It says MP next to the fish and seafood dishes, and the steak dishes—if you can call that stuff they serve a steak—doesn’t say anything. They have some unwritten kind of law that you have to show a platinum credit card at the door and leave a pint of blood on deposit to get a reservation.”
His laughter shook the bed. “I see. I don’t know if I could afford to lose blood for a restaurant bill these days. I used to dine and dash back when I was a kid.”
She managed to get her eyes to focus on his face. “What’s that?”
“It’s when you eat and don’t pay.”
She kissed his lips, licking his bottom lip. She wouldn’t mind eating him, maybe dine and then dashing down the bed? “Why would you do that? Eat and take off.”
“Because I was starving.”
Her hands went to his chest and she pushed him on his back and lifted herself over him, straddling her legs over his hips. “That must have been awful.”
“It was, but it taught me to be tough.”
She rotated her hips, partially lost in thought. “My childhood sucked. It sure as hell didn’t teach me to be tough though.” She stopped speaking and moving, realizing she was going on about herself. “Mine isn’t, wasn’t, awful like yours.”
His hands were gentle as he moved her hips against him again, distracting her. “What was it like?”
“It was…” Her lower lip trembled. “I don’t talk about this. I’m sorry I even brought it up.”
She rolled off him and onto her back.
He turned her over so she had to face him. “You can talk to me, Katie.”
She shrugged. “I can’t. You wouldn’t understand. Nobody does. I don’t.”
“I don’t have to understand to listen.”
Her eyes met his. “You’ll think I’m just whining.” She shrugged. “Maybe I am. I had two parents. They weren’t mean, not like…they didn’t abandon me. I just never…” She sighed and rolled her eyes, though she didn’t need to, the room spun enough on its own. “I can’t do anything right. No matter how hard I try I can’t please them. Nothing I do is good enough. I did everything they ever expected of me. I still do everything they want and still, they aren’t happy.” She was going to regret this conversation more than the boxed wine in the morning.
Morgan’s hand cupped her ass to pull her closer to him, he ran his warm palm up the side of her body. “And neither are you. It’s not my place to tell you what to do, but isn’t it about time you recognize you aren’t happy?” He kissed her forehead gently. “Why are you trying so hard to please them? You’re a grownup now. You should get to decide how to live your life. You don’t live for them, or let them live through you. I don’t know what’s really going on, but I know that if you’re not happy, only you can change that. If it’s because you feel trapped.”
“I’m not trapped.”
He tenderly lifted her chin so she had to look at him. “I can see you’re trapped. You know you are and yes, you stay in it.”
“I’m not like you, Morgan. I’m not tough.”
“You don’t have to be like me to make your own decisions.” He kissed her softly. “You’re tougher than you think.” His hips pressed against hers, his erection growing hard again. “Why don’t you show me how tough you are right now?”
She forced
her tongue into his mouth, hungry to taste him again. Tough? Her? She highly doubted it. She pushed him onto his back again, determined to show him a different side of her, one nobody had ever seen before.
CHAPTER 7
Katie woke with her head aching so bad it felt like someone had hit her in the head with an anvil. A couple hundred times. Her stomach lurched. She wanted to vomit. Her body ached all over. Morgan was already up and he handed her a cup of coffee, a glass of juice and some Tylenol as she tottered out of the bedroom, still dazed and sick.
“I’m going to die,” she announced.
Morgan laughed. “You might think so now, but you’ll be okay.”
“No, I won’t.” She grimaced and took a long drink of the juice then one of the coffee. “Remind me to take wine with us the next time you offer to take me to a party.”
“You’ll feel better after a shower. As much as I’d love to join you, I have to go.” He patted her bum and winked at her. “I’ll call you later today to make sure you’re still alive.”
She looked at him over the rim of her coffee cup and her humor surfaced. “Thanks for making the coffee.”
He laughed. “Took me almost half an hour to figure out how to use that coffee maker thing you have.”
“The Keurig?”
He rolled his eyes. “That French or something? I’m pretty sure I was speaking a few foreign languages by the time I got it sorted. I just like a pot, a filter, granules and water. Guess I’m old school.” He checked his watch and groaned. “I really gotta go. I’ll call you.” He gave her a quick kiss and left.
Katie stood by the closed door, not ready to get moving. Now that the night was over fear set in. Her practical side took over as she finally rushed to the shower. Worse, that part of her that always feared letting her father down reared its head.
He would be furious. Coldly, quietly furious. She knew it and she had no defense. There was no way she would tell him she had gone out on a date. He’d want to know with who, where she had gone and had anyone seen them together. He’d explode if she told him her date rode a bike and belonged to a MC. It’d be worse if she admitted to going out more than once, and that she’d slept with Morgan and invited him up to her suite.
She paused suddenly, her hand holding her keys midway to her purse.
What if things between her and Morgan got serious?
Would she hide him forever? Would she sneak around to see him for the rest of her father’s life?
That thought made her ashamed.
Morgan was a good guy. Right? What did she really know about him? He liked saving pets, finding their owners, eating pizza, riding his bike, he was in a club and he was amazing in bed. She blushed and threw her keys in her purse. She didn’t know him that well, but she trusted him—more than she trusted her father.
She was at a crossroads, one that had been approaching for a very long time. One she’d been avoiding because she didn’t know how to deal with the feelings inside her. Except she was tired of being unhappy, and Morgan made her feel good. She wanted more of that feeling, more of how he made her feel.
“Morgan’s right,” she whispered to herself as she drove to work. “I’m an adult. I’m the only one who can make the decisions to allow me to be happy.” And she was not trying to be happy. She was trying to make her parents happy even though she knew deep down that would never happen.
If she wanted things to change, how did she go about changing them? She was terrified to rock the boat. Maybe she should wait until she knew where things were going with Morgan.
Her father, Blake, was pissed and Katie knew it. He acted, just as she had figured he would, cold as steel about it. Like her penthouse that he owned, like the office building, everything about him was cold. His passion. His anger. Katie sighed as she sat at her desk, her father standing by the large window with his arms crossed over his chest. He was like a block of ice fashioned to look like a man.
“Kathleen! You were supposed to be at the club. Why do you feel the need to constantly disappoint me? It’s embarrassing.”
She stared at him, her head hurting and her body deliciously aching from the sex the night before. The thought of Morgan lighted a flame inside of her. “Were you happy as a child? I mean, was taking over this company the only thing you wanted to do? Did you ever feel so passionate about it that it made you…that it…that you knew it was what you wanted to do, had to do no matter what?”
He blinked and actually took a step back. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me, Dad. I’m asking you a direct question. Is this company all you ever wanted?”
“I have no idea what that has to do with you being absent—”
“I didn’t want to go!” She stood and threw her hands in the air. “There was something else I wanted to do so I did that.”
Had she just said that? She couldn’t believe she had. She pressed the heel of her palm against her forehead.
“Are you high?” Blake demanded.
Drugs? Seriously? “I have a hangover.”
Again she couldn’t believe she’d told him that. She should just be keeping her mouth shut. “I drank too much box wine.” She shuddered.
Her father paled. Katie didn’t know if he was horrified by the idea of her drinking too much or the idea of his daughter drinking cheap wine.
“I have no idea what you were thinking—”
“No, you don’t, Father. I didn’t want to go to the Berkley Club, so I didn’t.” She crossed her arms over her chest mimicking him. “I’m a grownup. I’m so fucking tired of you ordering me around and deciding what I need to do during my off hours. I work here. I do my job and I do it well. Actually, I’m freakin’ amazing, but you would never tell me that. EVER!” She sucked in a breath, horrified and motivated she’d spoken back to her father. “I won’t be forced to live the way you think is the right way just because—”
“Stop!” he hissed as he glared at her, the steel hardening in his blue eyes. “How dare you speak to me that way?”
Kathleen wished he would yell at her, but he wouldn’t and she knew it. “I’m not Peter!” she shouted. “I never will be. You have to stop trying to turn me into him.” She leaned against her desk and sighed. “It isn’t fair,” she whispered, near tears.
Blake went white. His lips pressed together into a thin flat line. “You’ve gone too far, Katie.” He said her name with disgust and disappointment.
It broke her heart. She wiped a tear that had escaped her eye. “I wanted to be an artist. I have the talent. You know, but would never encourage it. I wanted to do all kinds of things. But instead here I am. Why is that, Father? Why couldn’t you just let me have a life I wanted?”
He shook his head. “You’ve lost your mind.”
Katie scoffed, “Well, I would say I get that from Mother but…”
Blake stepped closer. His anger had gone beyond furious, but he didn’t lift his voice, the lethal feel to it made her shudder and the hairs on her body raise. “You will cease this now, Kathleen.” The coldness coming off him was like chilled waves, an iciness that could burn her as hotly as fire. “This stops now.” He walked out.
Katie sat in the chair across from her desk where clients sat when she met with them. She looked at the stack of files on her desk, then at the closed door.
What had she done? What the hell had she just done?
She put her face in her hands and wept silently.
CHAPTER 8
“You’ve got to be fucking Morgan.”
Morgan looked up from the pool table. The man facing him was tall and imposing, his dark hair swept back from a domed forehead and his body screamed former footballer. Or pro wrestler.
Morgan knew exactly what the dickhead was. Hired muscle.
“What’s it to you?” He wasn’t concerned, maybe slightly interested. Who’d be willing to send hired muscle into the bar he and his crew owned? Somebody who wanted to say something, and say it badly. Message received loud and clear. Now
he didn’t give a fuck.
“I’m here with a message for you. Can we talk in private?”
It wasn’t a request. Morgan glanced at Craig.
Craig didn’t look the least bit alarmed, but Morgan knew him well enough to know he was. They both knew this probably had something to do with the dead crew and missing dope.
“This is as private as it gets.” He shot the nine ball into the pocket easily and straightened, keeping the cue close to his body. He’d already sized the dude up; he had a bad knee which he was favoring slightly, letting his weight shift to his good leg. He might be able to run fast, but not long. Morgan needed a short head start and dipshit wouldn’t be able to catch him. He wouldn’t need to run though.
He was going to kick this guy’s ass.
“Fine.” He reached a hand into the pocket of his jacket. The suit hung well but Morgan knew off-the-rack when he saw it, and dipshit’s suit was definitely off-the-rack. Morgan clutched the cue, ready to move if the guy pulled out a gun.
He raised his hands. “No weapon.” When Morgan nodded, he pulled out his phone. He swiped it on and an image of Katie flashed on the screen. Dipshit’s hand tightly cupped the cell to prevent anyone else from seeing it. A hard grin appeared. “Got your attention now?”
“You do.” Morgan stepped forward. What the hell was going on? “Have a drink. I insist.”
They moved to the bar. Dipshit’s cocky grin annoying Morgan. He stuffed the phone back in his jacket inside pocket.
Morgan tapped the bar. “Jack, give my friend here a shot of whiskey. Get me a double.” He figured this had to do with the drugs missing, not Katie. He had enough going on right now, Katie being a complication was not something he needed. When the shots came, Morgan hissed, “Tell me what you came to say. Then get the fuck out.”
The hulking man leaned closer. His voice dropped low, “You seeing her has caught the attention of someone who would rather you didn’t.”