Jazz watched as the cop car pulled up to the front of the house. Morgan stepped out to talk to him and handed over something. So she’d been right.
At least it confirmed her suspicions about Morgan after all.
He was the good guy.
She crawled back into bed and lay there quietly, thinking about what she’d seen. She’d bet that he’d told the cops everything and was light on Dean’s involvement. She didn’t know how she felt about Dean at this point. She no longer trusted him – if she ever had – and she didn’t want to have him around. He’d been a victim, but he’d made some bad decisions with repercussions that could still put him away for a lot of years.
A yawn escaped. Damn, she was tired. All this driving around and sudden shocks to her system were taking their toll on her. So not how she’d planned her week.
Morgan came up the stairs and entered the bedroom. She lay still, pretending to be asleep, wondering what he’d do. She heard the rustle of clothing as he undressed. The bed shifted as he got in under the covers. She smiled as his arm slipped around her waist and tugged her gently backwards closer to him. She squeezed his hand and relaxed as he cuddled close.
“You still awake?”
“Hmm,” she admitted in a sleepy voice.
“Sleep, you need rest.”
His head hit the pillow beside hers, but his erection prodded her behind.
He’d let her sleep unless…she didn’t want to sleep.
There really was nothing to think about. They’d once again come a little too close to danger and survived. She’d take an hour in his arms any day.
“Hey,” she murmured in a sleepy voice.
“Shh, sleep.”
She smiled and squeezed his fingers. “What if I don’t want to sleep?”
She wiggled her hips gently against the prodding erection.
He groaned ever so slightly. “You’re supposed to rest.”
With a light laugh, she rolled onto her back and smiled up at him. “You drag me all over town, get me into another horrible situation involving bad guys and guns, and now that I’m safe and sound and tucked into bed, you’re saying a little gentle lovemaking is going to hurt me?”
He nuzzled her temple as he slid down lower under the covers. “Well, if you put it that way…”
He dropped light fairy kisses along her forehead, down her nose, and across her cheek before finally coming close to her ear. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine. She hunched her shoulders, caught between a giggle and a gasp. He nibbled her shoulder and she moaned. When his hand slid across her ribs to cup her breast, she was already arching into his touch. Then, this was Morgan. He’d always been able to do this to her. And his reaction to her was the same. It was one of the reasons she’d always known they were meant to be together. They could get that reaction from each other both in and out of bed.
She reached up and hugged him, then just held him close.
He buried his face in her neck. He held her tight for a long moment then gently released her. “I love you,” he said gently. “I always have.”
She smiled, teary-eyed at his words. “I know. You were just too—”
His finger was placed against her lips, stopping the flow of words. “We know how stupid and idiotic I was.”
“I was going to say too stubborn to admit it before.” Her smile was gentle. “But I’ve always known how much you cared. That’s why you leaving broke me. I knew it wasn’t because you didn’t care. But I couldn’t understand why you’d left. How you could do that to me…to us??”
He shook his head. Emotion choked him.
“Can’t talk?” she teased.
He shook his head again.
“Good,” she said. “Then show me how much you love me.”
His gaze already black-lit with deep dark passion. In a dangerously sexy voice, he growled against her ear, “I live to please.”
He cupped her breast, his fingers rolling the nipple a slight bit too hard, sensitizing them instantly. He shifted to his knees and reached for the body lotion on the side table. She shivered. He poured a generous amount into his hands and slowly stroked down her shoulders and arms, chest and ribs, and her hips, avoiding her injury. Then he went to work rubbing the cream into her soft skin. She stretched like a cat under his ministrations, loving his touch, loving having him here with her.
“That feels good.”
“You’ve been overdoing it,” he said quietly. “This will help the sore muscles.”
“Good. I swear all of me is sore.”
He stroked down through the curls at the juncture of her thighs. She gasped. He poured more cream on his hands and started in on her legs. His strokes both powerful and tantalizing, he danced toward her inner thighs then back to the front of her legs. Gentle brushes along the back of her knee were followed by casual fingers gently teasing her belly.
She groaned. “You’re such a tease.”
A kiss landed on her belly button, a slight tongue lick and gone again. She shifted restlessly.
Then he deepened his strokes, gently massaging the sore muscles and tired bones going from her toes and back up to her shoulder. When he came to the edge of the bandage, he bent down to kiss the edges where the tape pulled at her skin. “I’m so sorry you got hurt.”
He dropped a kiss on the bandage. “I’m so sorry you were scared.”
He dropped a kiss above her breast. “I’m not sorry you’re here with me.”
He came down on top of her, his body gliding over hers in a slick movement.
He clasped her head at the back of her neck, his fingers gently massaging the tense muscle along her neck. “And I do love you.”
And this time when he kissed her, there was no holding back. No being concerned that she was hurt or tired and needing rest.
He ravaged her lips and thrust his tongue deep into her mouth as his hands held her head fast.
Heat poured through her. Her nerves, already sensitized by the massage, were dancing to attention.
She twisted lazily beneath him, her hands stroking his back, sliding down to his hips where her nails scraped the skin of his cheeks.
He pulled back slightly, his hips pressing into hers. She spread her thighs, making room for him, but he held himself up and slightly away. She dug her nails in. He growled and plunged in to the hilt.
She cried out, her back arching.
He stilled.
“Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “Never, but damn…if you don’t move, I might just hurt you.”
With a dark low laugh, he grabbed her hips to hold her still as he withdrew then reentered, and he did it again. Always withdrawing to the point where he was going to fall out then back in just before reaching that point.
“Stop playing with me,” she cried. She tried to wiggle free, but his hands held her fast.
He plunged again. And again. And again.
She lay beneath him, her hips desperate to move, but she couldn’t do anything with the way he held her in place.
Shuddering, her body coated with a thin film of sweat, she could only acquiesce as he took her to the edge.
“Please,” she whispered. “Damn it, Morgan, now!”
He lifted her leg over his arm and shifted his position and plunged once, twice…she cried out in joy as millions of tiny explosions set off inside. He hammered again and again, not giving her a chance to relax, riding her through her release until he groaned above her, his response setting her off once again.
By the time he collapsed on the pillow beside her, she was already succumbing to the lure of sleep in the aftermath of the rosy heat and loving satisfaction.
*
Morgan watched her ride the wave of sleep, marveling at how quickly and how completely she surrendered. To him. To sleep. To life.
He’d watched her work before, fascinated at her ability to focus on the design at hand. To knock everything else in her life back out of her mind. To completely exclude everything in life but the masterpiece she was creating.
And she was the same in bed. She focused on her pleasure. His pleasure. She was there one hundred percent with him all the way – every damn time.
And he was sure she had no idea how special she was.
But he knew.
And he’d make sure she understood every damn day.
Pulling her tight into his arms, he closed his eyes and joined her in sleep.