A throat clears. “Excuse me, Ms. Sterns. I have an urgent message for you,” Phillipe lilts, obviously irritated. I hear the deep chuckle through the phone and wonder what Steven did to convince Phillipe to interrupt me during a meeting. A bold move, Steven. One he’ll pay for later.
Everyone turns to look at my assistant. My own cheeks heat even though I know I’m not blushing. I’m no longer capable of something so telling.
“On with it,” I command.
“Mr. Steven Warner would like to confirm your appointment for nine o’clock this evening. He also would like to know which game to bring—A, B, or C.”
I cough loudly, but it’s too late. Everyone’s already heard. I widen my eyes at Phillipe. He’ll pay for this show of unprofessionalism and he knows it.
“Yes. A,” I reply loud enough for Steven to hear me through the phone. Phillipe hangs up without saying another word. Toni raises one eyebrow while scrolling through her Blackberry. Penelope reengages herself with signing documents, and I’m left sitting there irritated, yet turned on.
Leering men in the hallway don’t even trigger any other emotion except anger. Steven can interrupt an important meeting, something that is akin to a mortal sin, and I have to rub my legs together to quell the anticipation of being with him later.
I’ve got it bad—so bad that I’m questioning my normal principles.
I finish up our meeting, conducting myself in the most professional way I know how, and even manage to send Penny off with a smile. Hopefully she knows how confident I am. It’s not a false, attorney confidence either. Toni thanks me for inviting her in, and I gather my wits and libido and exit the conference room feeling a little less bold than I did when entering. I hope the leering jokers are busy working.
The weakness seeps in. I recognize it immediately. It’s the type that comes when you hand over a piece of yourself, and that small act forces you to care about something or someone other than yourself. It truly is a weakness. For me, it’s the ultimate. After Stone died I promised myself to stay on guard, and keep my hand close to my chest to keep the weakness at bay. The weakness Steven gives has always been there whether I’ve realized it or not.
I check a notepad with several messages from this morning. Most are Steven—my weakness staring up at me from a black and white page. “What else did he say?” I ask Phillipe when we’re out of earshot of anyone else.
“Many crude, disturbing things about what he plans to do with you tonight. Things that as your assistant I don’t think I should hear.” He cringes, and an exaggerated shiver shakes his shoulders. I roll my eyes.
“What, exactly?” I demand in the voice that I know he won’t ignore.
Phillipe sighs. “He asked if he can fill your meat wallet. He also insinuated something about riding him…like a horse. He wanted me to check on the new security camera as well. ” I wince.
“Sorry I asked,” I mutter.
Holding the door open, he clears his throat. “He also may have said how madly in love with you he is. That he’s always been in love with you.”
I stop dead in my tracks, cocking my head to one side. “What new security camera?”
Steven
“Tonight has to be the most romantic fucking date of my life. We leave next week and I need—notice I said need to be inside of her. Do you know how long it’s been? The thoughts that knock around my noggin when I’m sex deprived aren’t pretty,” I tell Cody. He’s hanging at my place after we worked out at the boxing gym together.
Cody takes a swig of beer. “Is Chloe texting you still?”
Sighing, I admit, “Yes. Just keeping in contact, though.”
“How exclusive are you with Morganna?” he asks.
“No.” That’s not even in the equation. It could be if I want to fuck up everything. “Patience. I just need some patience, that’s it. You were the one that told me to get rid of the girlfriends in the first place!”
Cody laughs, staring at me from across the room. “You’re twitching. You can’t just proclaim to be a cured manwhore. You were getting it every other night, right? How long has it been now?”
I’m so hard up that I don’t even give him a hard time for asking me such questions when he probably hasn’t been laid in months. Don’t get me wrong—I go months and months without sex when I’m deployed, but I don’t have hot, naked women with wet pussies hovering over my dick on the regular then. It’s easy to throw myself into work when the object of my wildest dreams isn’t in front of me on a regular basis. We’ve done everything except have sex. Everything with her in control of what happens, mind you. It was hot at first, but now I want a slice of the control pie. Handcuffs? Maybe her blindfolded? I’d settle for full privileges with her entire body.
I shake my head. “Weeks? A month?” I can’t think straight. Morganna from the past, present, and future wreaks havoc on my mind and body. I grab my beer from the counter and press a frozen steak on my eye. Cody socked me one good at the boxing gym and I have a rising, red welt above my eye. With the icing I’m hoping it doesn’t swell shut.
Keeping the cold meat on my face, I tilt my head back and finish my beer. “You can’t even say anything. How long has it been for you?”
“Last night,” Cody says, anticipating the question. He snatches my cell phone off the table in front of him and starts tapping the screen.
I’m so preoccupied with the mental image of him banging Lainey that I don’t even second-guess what he’s doing. Probably looking up sex on the Internet because he doesn’t know more than one position.
I grimace and then gesture for him to explain when he looks back up. “Lainey and I are sort of a thing. Since the party, you know?”
I didn’t know. Because I’m so absorbed with Morganna and doing everything the right way. Part of me wants to say fuck it and just handle things the way I always handle things. No finesse and crude jokes. Cody shakes his head and pats Gunner on the head when he trots by on the way to the front door.
“I had no idea. Must be going well if you’ve knocked boots more than once and she didn’t head for the hills,” I joke, shaking my head. He smiles, looking down toward his feet. “Does Morganna know?”
He meets my gaze. “ She does know. They’re neighbors, remember? And it is going quite well, it’s very convenient so don’t jinx it, asshole. We shouldn’t even be talking about me right now. Why don’t you try practicing the art form known as honesty? Tell Morganna how you feel. Tell her you want to fuck her so your head doesn’t pop off. Tell her all of the other sordid details that I’m sure track through your mind. You say she knows you so well. She won’t be surprised be then, right?”
I shift from one bare foot to the other, weighing whether I want to come clean with my friend or not. “She wants control…” I say low, my head turned away. I place my hands on my hips.
“Like in the bedroom?” Cody asks, incredulously, eyes widening. He’s heard stories from my conquests and can deduce from three words exactly what this means. “And you’re giving it to her?”
I shrug. “I have to, man. Now maybe you can better understand why I’m so riled up.” I pace around my living room wearing sweaty gym gear. I was too amped up to shower after our workout.
I nod as the ideas start flowing. I concoct a plan so fool proof that I question why I haven’t enacted it before now. Better pre-heat the oven right now, because that pie? It’s getting baked and then eaten.
“Tonight will be the night,” I tell Cody. Standing from my couch, he claps me on the back and heads out the garage door mumbling about meeting the guys to go out tonight. He doesn’t believe me, but like a good friend he keeps his mouth shut. Everyone thinks I’m kicking a dead horse. Morganna doesn’t know how long I’ve wanted to pursue her, but they do now.
I stick my head out the door he left out of and yell again for good measure, “I’m telling you! Tonight! I’ve got this!” It’s a convincing act for myself. He waves a middle finger in the air with a huge grin on his face.
“I love you, too!” I scream before slamming the door. To get ready for tonight I need to clean my place and make a few stops in town.
By God, I need to get laid.
There are certain things I had to forget when deciding to go through with this. Riding in someone else’s wake is dangerous. Residing inside the wake when the waves crash against the shore is something else entirely. I need Morganna to know that I respect her past, that I respect her husband more than anything else, but I need something more. I need something she can’t give me because it belongs to someone else.
“Gunner, you need to stay in here tonight,” I coo at my dog, placing his dishes in my office and shutting the door. We just got back from a long run, so he’s tired and will pass out for the rest of the night without another sound. Working out when you’re sexually frustrated staunches the pains for a little while. Two a day sessions has been my new normal. The upside is that I’m probably in better shape now than I’ve ever been in. That says something, because during training to become a SEAL I couldn’t eat calories quickly enough to account for what was burnt in a day. A box of Oreos every night was okay because I was seriously at a deficit.
Staring at my mirror, I’m happy with what I see. My skin is tanned from shirtless runs, and my abs are fucking steel. My thick thighs and arms are scrupulously sculpted.
“I could win a body building competition right now,” I say to myself, gloating and trying to forget exactly why I’m in this sort of shape. I have a white towel slung low over my hips, still wet from a shower when Morganna blasts into my bedroom, her hair in a long, perfected pony tail and her professional wear swapped for a casual pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
I turn to her, my hands on my hips, my stance wide. “Just in time,” I brag, watching her face morph from a sweet “hello” into something more sinister. It’s like a switch. Her gaze flicks up to meet mine.
Running a hand through her ponytail, she says, “I knocked forever so I just used your hide-a-key instead. You really should find a better hiding place for it, you know? Underneath the pirate frog is a little juvenile. Even for you.”
She takes a step toward me, face rapt with anticipation. The desire to kiss her burns strong. I take a step toward her. “If, and I use the word lightly, if someone lifts up my pirate frog looking for a key, they’ll get more than a strip tease when they make their way inside,” I explain, dropping my towel to the floor just to watch her face. If she could blush right now, I know she would.
“Well, um, it’s not wise,” she stutters. “What if you’re not home?” she says, her eyes glued to my stomach and dick.
I clear my throat. “Gunner will attack them.” Her eyes widen, and her face tilts up to look me in the eye.
“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 Hu
gh 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.
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