“You have some serious explaining to do, Steve.” Chloe folds her arms over her chest. “Unless you’ve upped your game and lie in the face of evidence, then what the hell was the message about?”
“I didn’t send it, Chloe.” I rake both hands through my hair and look up to the ceiling. “I didn’t fucking send the text message!” My voice echoes the space.
I feel bad. It’s not her fault. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t send it. Cody was fucking around with my phone earlier.” The sadness in her eyes is palpable and I feel about three feet tall. My emotions are all over the fucking place.
“I messed it up for you, didn’t I?”
I approach her, and hug her as innocently as I can. The horrible lump creeps into my throat. Sucking in a deep breath I say, “No. It’s fine.”
It isn’t fine.
I lean away, leaving my hands on her slight shoulders. “It’s not your fault, but I need to go fix things with Morg. Okay?”
She smiles a weak, hopeful smile and I realize something. She thinks I’ll change my mind about our relationship. That we stand half a fuck’s of a chance in a normal relationship after the screwed up affair we carried on for years.
I shake my head. “We would never work. Even if I wasn’t in love with her, Chlo. It wasn’t meant to be between us.” I wipe a tear from her eye and watch her hopefulness turn bitter. She nods and leaves without another word, her expensive shoes stealing her into the night and out of my life forever.
My shoulders fall. Morganna. I scrub a hand down my face. Round two.
“I heard it all.” Her voice breaks the silence. I turn, my hands on my hips, my confidence completely shattered. “Why would Cody do that?” she asks.
“Because he’s a mother fucker. And also because I was whining about my celibacy. He probably thought he was doing me a favor.”
She rounds the corner, crossing one ankle over the other leaning against the doorway. “You haven’t exactly been celibate. Or are you so addicted to actual sexual intercourse that you can’t function without it?”
I cross to her in three large strides and take her face between my hands. “I’m fucking addicted to you. Don’t you understand?”
Her gray eyes widen, but she doesn’t speak.
“I want you. I’ve always wanted you. Now that I’m this close to actually having everything I’ve ever dreamed of, I’m going a little crazy. I. Want. You. Before, when I thought you were named Morga-liscious, when you were married to one of my best friends, while I dated other women, I’ve wanted you. I had no right, but it didn’t stop my feelings.”
I kiss her forehead as she absorbs my words.
“My past isn’t a secret. I was a misogynist asshole with a radar for easy holes.” Morganna winces, but smiles just the same. “It occurred to me that I’ve been waiting for you all this time. Just waiting for the right time. I’m not proud about how long it took, or what you had to go through to get here, but we are here. We’ve arrived at the perfect timing. I’m sorry Cody was an asshole. I’m sorry I was an asshole.”
Saying “I love you” will never be enough. I know I have to show her by respecting what she wants, by loving her silently, cautiously, in doses so lethal that I have to ration myself.
She hugs me around the waist, pressing her face into my chest. “You told her you were in love with me.”
It sounds like a question. “You knew that already, Morg. You’ve always known—a subconscious ticking or thumping that if you listened hard enough you couldn’t fucking ignore. You had to have known.”
She looks up into my eyes, and I see so much there—the pain, the love, our past, unspoken words, shattered lives, and everything in between. When your life flashes before your eyes at death, it’s the end.
But the look we’re sharing now? It’s the beginning.
“It always was set in stone, wasn’t it?” Her word choice takes me aback. I swallow loudly.
With a slight nod and a half smile, I lean down and kiss away any question.
Morganna
I believe him without question. Steven would never lie to me.
Seeing Chloe in all of her perfect glory did cause an internal bout of jealousy so large I had to leave the room. No one else was aware of it, thank God. Jealousy doesn’t look good on anyone. It forces you into a box that is easy to judge and hard to ignore.
I pull away from the kiss, panting. “You could have just told me if the celibacy was giving you that much trouble.”
His hand slides down to my waist, where his grip tightens. “I wanted everything to progress naturally. Old Steven would have sweet-talked his way into your pants the night in my truck. Morganna’s Steven wouldn’t dare approach that level of slut.”
I scoff and place my hands over his. “It’s not like I would have turned you down. I like you the way you are. The way you’ve always been. I’d never ask you to change.” He smiles, this cocky, beautiful thing, and I think I melt a little. The way women do in movies because sometimes you can’t ignore attractive, self-assured men. It goes against everything I’ve strived for in life. Most importantly, I don’t care.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” So am I.
I shake my head, trying to force Chloe’s tanned legs from my mind. “Already forgotten.” I realize how hard a feat it will actually be. His admirers are still littered in his life. My solitary love is long gone. The unfairness of the situation is so obvious he’s apologizing for it.
He releases me to rub one hand through his hair. “Yeah?”
I wink—an over exaggerated, sarcastic move. “Yeah.”
“Where were we before Cody decided to seal his fate?” His lips form a straight, angry line. Steven’s a big boy and can take care of himself, but I have to admit that this stunt even irritated me. Sometimes the guys can act like moronic children. It’s okay most of the time, because it’s how they keep their heavy lives and careers light. I can’t blame them. When it’s time to work, they are serious and focused and lethal. When they aren’t working? Well, I guess it depends on the day of the week. It’s a draw to the personality type. The effervescent chameleon.
Grabbing my hand and pulling me toward his bedroom, he picks up a small black shopping bag on the way. “Let me show you what I have in mind.” His large strides leave me trying to keep up on my short legs.
“You could just tell me, you know.” I hear my cell phone chiming from my extra large handbag in the corner of his room. I let go of his hand and stoop next to the bag, which contains a change of clothing, and dig for my cell. I don’t even look at it before silencing it and tucking it back at the bottom. “You may also want to move your spare key,” I say, glancing his way with a smirk.
He’s already taken off his shirt and his bone frog tattoo is proudly displayed on his chiseled, tanned back. Standing, I study everything else about him.
He looks over his shoulder at me. “That’s a good idea. While I’m gone, you should go through the bag and make a plan of your own.” He slinks out of the room, with a pair of dark wash jeans riding low on his waist, exposing his V and the fact that he’s not wearing underwear. Bless the mini miracles in life.
I go through the black bag and find two pairs of handcuffs and a blindfold—nothing too criminal, nothing too normal either. He’s purchased these items for me…so he can get laid. He’s heeded my need for control. My heart rate picks up as I turn the cuffs over in my hands.
Guilt. Guilt.
It bubbles to the surface. I can’t deny I want him. I also can’t deny I want to control him. So I won’t feel like he’s Stone. I close my eyes and take in a breath when I think about Steven’s perfect body and his known track record, the way he’s touched me, kissed me in the past. Something akin to stage fright trickles into my awareness. I don’t have time for that. I don’t have anymore time.
I sit on his large bed and look to the ceiling. It’s a smooth, plain white—it soothes my nerves. Sliding my shirt over my head and wiggling my jeans to th
e floor, I gain the courage I’ve never needed to look for before.
Kneeling on the bed in my sexy lingerie, I connect one pair of handcuffs to the wooden slats in the headboard. I’m tugging on them to make sure they’re secure when Steven saunters back into the room, his smile so wide and so white that all I want is his lips on mine.
“You approve?” He arches a brow and bites the corner of his lip.
I tilt my head to the side. “But of course. Come here you naughty boy.” I smile with my eyes. He laughs, shakes his head, sucks in a breath, and is on his back, hands extended over his head in the next breath.
“Am I allowed to talk? Because I have the best joke right now.”
“Should you be joking right now?” Straddling his chest, I lean over, making sure my breasts graze his face as I fasten the cuffs around his large wrists. “I mean, your offenses are pretty horrible.” He can’t see me stifle a laugh as I move to his other hand. Click. His chest is moving up and down rapidly. I press my hand against his chest. “Don’t worry. You’re just a prisoner of love. Not war, Steven.”
His eyes search my face. “You know how out of my element I am right now?”
I nod. “Just this once,” I say, kissing his pink, dry lips and then his neck. I feel him pull against the restraints when I let my tongue dart out and lick the shell of his ear. “Thank you,” I whisper.
I take his jeans off and stand over him, with one foot planted on either side of his waist. I feel powerful—tall, standing over such a huge man. His erection stands between us and every part of my body tingles with anticipation of it finally being inside me.
“It’s a shame your hands are indisposed tonight. They’re pretty amazing at a few things.”
He smiles up at me. “Let me out. Just one cuff. Think about what these two fingers can do.” He folds all but two fingers down, making me squirm, because I’d really love to have those fingers inside me right now. His face relaxes as he gets used to the new dynamic.
I unfasten my bra and let it fall over his face. He moves his head side to side to clear his view.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Morg. So fucking beautiful.” He shakes his head, like he doesn’t believe it.
I’m not sure what I did to deserve this—a man who understands me, all of me—and loves me anyways. I can’t be this lucky twice. It goes against nature; it tests fate.
“Let me kiss you,” Steven growls, his eyes dancing between my breasts and my mouth.
Walking up the bed, ending with one foot on each side of his head, I pull the lace panties to the side, exposing myself right above his face. “Kiss me here?” I ask.
His mouth drops open as he nods. A shock of wetness flows exactly where I want it. The cuffs jangle as he moves his shoulders to make room for my knees. I keep my panties pulled to the side and kneel, placing his mouth directly on my wet core. The second I meet his hot mouth, I sigh in relief. I’ve needed this just as much as he has.
Shocks of pleasure wrack my entire body as he laps against me with his tongue—sucking, tasting, swirling in every pleasure filled direction. Taking my breasts into my hands, I pinch my nipples until the pain is too much to bear. With my knees next to his ears, I rub myself onto his face, harder and wilder until I’m riding his tongue like it’s his hard, thick shaft instead. That’s what I want. I think. Steven groans underneath me, his eyes closed and mirroring an image of ecstasy.
“I taste good?” I moan out. He nods quickly and begins this glorious suck, lick pattern on my clit. My toes curl and my thighs tingle. Mind bending sensations of carnal desire fill my stomach. I want to scream, I want to fuck, I want to come so hard that I can’t see straight.
Steven’s eyes lock on mine as I take exactly what I want from him. He groans and moans as he moves his head and tongue to give me everything he can at the moment. My orgasm comes in waves, every hair on my body standing at attention. I scream out as the pleasure takes control of every muscle in my body, my core quivering and tightening around his tongue and lips repeatedly.
Lowering myself on weak arms I straddle his happy trail and fall against his chest. “Imagine if I could use my hands too.” I hear the cocky smile in his voice.
Turning my head, I kiss his brawny chest and then up to his glistening mouth, coated in my scent. He kisses me back passionately, making up for his lack of hands by kissing me senseless. Dominating me with the emotions that are passing between us in this moment. I open my eyes lazily to find him watching me.
“I need you. I need you. Please?”
His words from earlier wash over me. How he’s wanted to be with me since before I knew exactly what that meant. I can’t deny him or my feelings any longer.
“I need you, Steven.” The honest statement slips from my mouth before I can filter.
He nods his head toward his nightstand. “Condoms are in there. You’re in control of course, but if I’m not inside you soon I will break the bed getting out of these cuffs, and you’ll be pressed against the wall with my cock so far inside you that it may never come back out.” He says this with a serious expression and I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on by words than those that he just spoke. My stomach flips with desire.
Without any hesitation I lean over his wildly panting chest and remove a condom from the drawer. It’s been a while since I’ve used a condom, but I manage to open it and slide it over his ridged, creaming erection without much fuss. I rise on my knees while his eager eyes watch my every move, and I gently slide him into me. I’m wet, but it still takes a couple seconds to adjust to his width. I sink down about halfway and relish the sensation of being filled with a hard, warm dick after feeling so empty for so long.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, my eyes closed, soaking in every sensation. Placing my hands on his chest, I steady myself and lower a little bit more until he’s almost all the way in.
“Double holy shit,” Steven says, pulling against the cuffs in vain. Raising my bottom, I slide up and then sink all the way down, until he’s pressed against the very back—a painful, pleasurable feeling. Steven growls, jutting his hips up, wanting friction, needing me to move.
“Give me a second,” I say, swirling my hips in a circle, getting used to his size and just because this angle hits my g-spot perfectly. I could come again and again just like this. “I just want to feel you inside me,” I whisper. He presses his hips up more and more, and before long I need to move—the tension is too much and I need his thickness slamming into me.
“Fuck!” Steven roars when I start riding him, my hips swaying in a perfect motion as I bounce up and down on him, enjoying the stretching and the pounding rhythm that we’re making together.
“Feels so good,” I mumble, my words broken by our furious pace. His rigid cock glides against my insides, forcing me open more and more with each thrust. “Fuck me harder,” I yell. His eyes flare with possession as he slams into me faster and more wildly, the handcuffs restraining him in more ways than one. His abs flex as he uses his hips to buck his cock deep inside me. I watch his thick member disappear and reappear as he hammers away, lost in sensations.
I imagine his hands on my hips, him and him only controlling the pace, and that’s all it takes to send me over the edge. I contract around his warm shaft over and over as I scream out for more—for more cock, for more connection, for more of Steven. I’ll never grow tired of this, and now, in a post coital haze, I’m upset I waited so long. I need to be fucked by this man several times a day. I clench around him to hold him in this position. I feel him flex his dick inside me and a breathy moan escapes me as it gently puts pressure on my g-spot.
Steven squeezes his eyes shut, tilts his chin to the ceiling, and comes with a loud growl, his hips jutting wildly with each of his hot jets of cum. We both breathe for uncountable minutes, letting the silence and moment wrap us. The pulling of his handcuffs breaks the moment and gets my attention. “I think I can get used to this,” he says, rocking his hips again because now he knows exactly how g
ood it feels for me. I let my body weight force me down as far as I can go.
Reluctantly, I slide up and off his glorious, softening shaft and unlock the cuffs by pressing the release button. He rubs his wrists and pulls me in to press his lips against mine.
“I missed kissing you, though.”
I can’t deny I didn’t. Steven sits up, slides the condom off with a grace that demonstrates his experience and knots it before tossing it into the trash can in the bathroom. His face is so relaxed and carefree as he drops onto the bed next to me, scooting next to me to press his naked body against mine. I tell him that I’ll do anything to have him inside me again. I also mention my plans to start birth control pills again. This cock unsheathed inside me is going on top of my to-do list. Steven agrees with my plan whole-heartedly. I stay wrapped around his glistening body, listening to his heartbeat. He strokes my hair and I feel at complete ease.
Sighing, he says, “What do you call a man who finally bagged the girl of his dreams?”
I shake my head when I feel his face in my hair. He inhales deeply. I play along. “What?”
“Other than deliriously happy and Steven Warner? Lucky.”
“That wasn’t funny.”
He pulls me closer. “It wasn’t meant to be,” he whispers.
I fall asleep without realizing I never, not even for one tiny second, thought about my husband. And that fact is either promising or horrendous.
I’m not sure which.
Steve
I’ve been away for too long. One work trip rolled into another, and then another. I’m itching to get back home to Morganna now that our sexual relationship requires intense exploring, but all of the training also has me itching to deploy, to do for real what we’re getting ready for. The part of me that makes me different, special even, forces abnormal notions about things such as a dangerous deployment. The thrill I seek only comes from knowing I’m able to do something that nobody else can. Most want to. Many try to be SEALs, and a tiny, miniscule fraction are actually good enough to make it. Because I know I’m damn good at my job, I don’t fear what comes next.
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