“I’m looking out for—”
“Do you take me for a fool?” I take a step towards her. “Why are you in my garage, sleeping in your car?” I point at her vehicle.
“If you mind so much, I’ll leave,” she yells.
“Morgan,” I growl. She’s not listening; instead, she’s yanking open the door to her car, intent on leaving.
“Hey,” I say more softly, the anger draining out of me. I notice she’s wearing an oversized t-shirt. Her feet are bare. She has this vulnerable, innocent air about her.
“I’m not angry that you’re here.” I keep my voice soft.
She starts to get into her car, but I clasp her arm, sure to keep my touch soft. “Wait just a second. If you’re in trouble, you should have said something. I’m upset you didn’t speak to me. I thought we were getting along. I thought we were trusting one another. You should have said something. That’s why I’m pissed. Not that you’re here.”
I see her shoulders slump. Then she turns. “I’m embarrassed, okay? I’ve never had much.” She shrugs. “Never needed much. I’ve lived from day to day, from month to month. I suddenly found myself without an income…with almost no savings. Blowing a gasket cleaned me out. That asshole at the motel tried to…make a deal with me.” Her eyes darken.
Every muscle in me tightens. “What?” I practically shout, my voice deep. “What happened?”
“Relax, I took care of it. He won’t try it again. Not with me or anyone else.”
I smile. “I’m sure you did.” Then I turn serious. “You should have said something. I’ve invited you to stay over. I—”
“I don’t want a handout.”
“Do you have any idea how much I was paying that PI?” I tell her. “You’re doing a much better job than he ever did. Why not accept something in return?”
“I don’t want your money.” She shakes her head. “It wouldn’t feel right. I’m not doing this for money.”
“I know that, but you can’t be effective if you’re not taking care of your basic needs. A bed, food…the basics. You can stay here. Use the spare room. Eat meals here. It wouldn’t be a handout. You help me, I help you.”
I can see her mulling it over, and it floors me all over again how damned stubborn she is.
“Where else will you go? You either need to accept cash or—”
“I can’t!” She shakes her head. “My reasons for doing this need to stay true. It’s about Andy. It’s about your power. I just…” She chews on her bottom lip.
“What? Why can’t you take my help? There’s a perfectly good bed inside my house.” Using my thumb, I point at the door to the house.
“Yeah…your bed. Your bed is perfectly good. How long before I end up in it?” She looks up at me, and I gape down at her. I almost can’t believe she just said that. Then again, I can because she’s right.
I swallow thickly. “We’re adults, we can share a house and not end up in bed together.”
“Really?” She lifts her brows for a moment, and then I watch as her eyes lower and track my body. I feel everything tighten. I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Because if you’re going to walk around like that…” she points at my sleeping shorts, “in those boxers…” She shakes her head. “We might be in trouble. I think we could be in trouble regardless.”
I pull in a breath. “You shouldn’t look at me like that, Morgan. You’re not wearing much yourself, and if you keep looking at me like that…then you’re right, we’ll be in serious trouble.” She’s not wearing a bra. Her legs are great. Fuck!
There’s barely any space between us. I’m not sure who moved towards who, but here we are. I see her chest rise and fall in quick succession. “Fuck it!” I growl as I hook an arm around her. Then my lips are crashing against hers.
Morgan whimpers against my mouth. Both my arms are around her. I’m pulling her close. She pushes up against me. Her hands digging into my back. I can feel her breasts smashed up against my chest. Her nipples are tight.
I pull away. “Before we do this. I need to know. Can I trust you, Morgan?” I ask. Bolt's words from the other day are in my head. What if Morgan and the harpy are working together? I know deep down inside that it isn’t the case. I know, but I still need to hear her say the words. I’m feeling things for this woman. Things I shouldn’t be feeling.
Her eyes darken and narrow. “What?” she asks. “Screw you,” she mutters, pulling away.
“I need to know.” I keep my arms around her. I won’t let her walk away. “I need to know. I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything.” Her eyes are clouded. I can see I hurt her. “If you don’t know by now then—”
“You were sleeping in your car.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Her hands are flat on my chest, she’s pushing.
“What does that…?” I narrow my eyes into hers. “It has a lot to do with it. With us. You couldn’t trust me enough to—”
“I felt like an idiot…I…” Then she rolls her eyes. “Fine, you have a point…” Her body softens. “You can trust me,” she says.
“No more secrets between us. We trust each other from here on out?”
She nods. Then she’s sliding her hands up my chest and looping them around my neck. “We shouldn’t do this,” she says.
I smile. I think it must look downright feral, I’m that turned on. “It’s happening.”
“I want you,” she moans and then sucks in a breath when I press her back against her car. Her legs part for me. My cock is hard and throbbing against her stomach. We should go inside and finish this, but I’m too riled up. I can see she feels the same.
I pictured her naked up against this car, or on the hood, several times the other day. I’m about to make good on one of the many fantasies I’ve been harboring about this woman.
I slide my hand between her legs, keeping my eyes on hers. Her mouth opens, and she sucks in a breath. She’s wearing a pair of panties. They feel silky and sexy and incredibly feminine. I growl low as I take back her mouth. Then I’m shoving the panties aside and zoning in on her clit. She yelps the moment my finger makes contact. I circle her nub a couple of times, and she cries out. It’s been a while for both of us. There’s no use dragging this out. I want to be inside her almost as much as I want my next breath.
I want it more.
“I’m clean,” I say against her mouth.
“Me too.” She groans again, her eyes are wide, then she’s squeezing them shut. She’s panting right off the bat. My finger is rubbing gently on her clit, which is swollen. She’s crying out again.
“Do I need to find a condom?” I should go and get one. I really should.
“I’m on birth control,” she groans. “To regulate my…never mind. We’re good.” I know I can trust her. Lord knows I want to be inside her. I’ve never had sex without a condom before. I find the thought intoxicating. Morgan is on birth control. It doesn’t smell like she’s ovulating. For the first time, I feel okay with taking a small risk. The risk itself doesn’t scare me, the fact that I’m taking it does. I’m in trouble here.