Chapter Five
Ryder was pissed off. He’d been working like a dog all week, sweltering in the heat, going to work at the bar and then crashing in his apartment at the end of the day. The same as always.
Except he couldn’t get Morgan out of his head. Where was she tonight? What guy had she gone home with, who was shefuckingright now? Why wasn’t it him, for god’s sake?
He was confused, horny, sore, and pissed off.
And horny.
He wanted Morgan the way he’d never wanted a woman in his life. He was great at ignoring the softer gender; he knew how to focus on what he wanted. A woman was not on the agenda, not until he accomplished his goals. He didn’t mind being alone; there was nobody to tell him he wasn’t home often enough, nobody to judge what he ate or wore or watched or read.
Nobody to care about him, and nobody for him to care for.
That was always what he wanted, so it never bothered him before. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about sad brown eyes, soulful and expressive. Dark hair, long and curling, wrapped around his hand as he rammed his leaking cock into her hot—
Shit.
He needed a cold shower.
Standing in the tiny tub with the shower running on cold, Ryder grasped his hard cock in his hand, stroking firmly as images of Morgan ran through his mind. Her heavy breathing as she tried to convince him to take her to his bed, her tattooed breasts as she ripped her shirt over her head. The way they felt when he finally allowed himself to touch them. His hand sped up as he remembered her pressing tightly to his back when he came out of the shower the other day. He imagined what would have happened if she’d pulled his towel off, the way her soft curves would have melted against his hard planes. As inexperienced as he was, he knew exactly what would have happened next, and pictured her beneath him as he finally sank into her warmth.
Ryder came with a grunt, slapping his hand on the tile wall as he tried to catch his breath. He reached over and turned the hot water on full, needing to wash up and go about his day.
When he reached Carter’s later that night, Milo was standing in the doorway to the office again, and Ryder noticed Shea sitting in the chair when he glanced in. Milo turned to greet him, and Ryder stopped walking.
“Ryder, Shea will work with you tonight in place of Nora, but she’s going to stay in the back with me until opening, if that’s cool with you,” Milo said.
“Of course,” Ryder answered, before moving on to the bar to do the setup.
He was hoping, dreading,shewould be there. That he would look up when the doors were unlocked and Morgan would come in, sassy and demanding her vodka shots. Simultaneously, he was terrified she would come in and flirt with every male there, the way she had before, and that he wouldn’t be able to stomach watching her. He was more afraid that she wouldn’t come in at all, and that he’d never see her again.
He held his breath as Milo unlocked the doors, then his attention was caught by Shea coming up from the back. The strangest sensation came over his gut, the heat of desire sucker punching him. Looking up sharply, he found Morgan standing at the bar, staring him down. Before either of them could speak to the other, Shea spoke up.
“Hey, I think I know you.”
Morgan shot a look at the woman, and it wasn’t exactly friendly. “I doubt it.”
Shea was not to be deterred. “You’re Hannah’s cousin Morgan.”
Instead of answering, Morgan turned her attention to Ryder. “Vodka.”
Shooting an apologetic look at Shea for Morgan’s attitude, he nodded, setting up a handful. Once she had them lined up, she downed them one by one, alternating with sucking on the lemons and licking salt from her hand. Ryder was transfixed by her lips and found himself staring a little too longingly, imagining what else she could do with them. He heard someone clear their throat, and he surreptitiously adjusted himself behind the bar before turning toward the customers at the other end.
“What can I get for you?”
Ryder was completely unsure how he felt about the evening. Morgan had come in, so he was able to see her, to talk to her. Even if it was brusque drink orders, it was something. She had stayed in her seat at the bar the entire night, never getting up to dance, not flirting or trying to pick up a man. He was grateful for that.
Confusing him, though, was why she came to drink in the first place and then left five minutes before closing. Ryder wasn't on the stage that evening, and Milo was in charge of cleanup.
He had to admit he was disappointed to reach his door and find no one there.
~~~
MORGAN DIDN’T WANTto be recognized by anyone; something about it made her incredibly uncomfortable. She’d spent the past week suffering over what she’d learned and then spending way too much time at her parents’ place on Sunday. She’d dressed the part in one of her mother's creations, looking demure yet sexy, and been pranced around by her parents at their launch party.
She didn’t know why she let them make her feel so used, so borrowed and discarded. It was what she was used to, but she couldn’t figure out why she’d wanted nothing more than to bolt back to Ryder’s apartment. Despite her best efforts, she’d had a difficult time forgetting him over the past week.
She could admit to herself she wanted him. Sex was a vice she’d used for several years. She couldn’t begin to count how many men she’d been with and had never felt ashamed of that before. She was tired of being the party girl, getting drunk and going home with strangers, only to run out the door in the morning before they woke. She hated daylight and used prescription painkillers and more booze to fight off the feelings of inadequacy. Now, she cared what someone else thought of her, and that was a dangerous thing for someone like Morgan, who feared the truth.
Tattoos were a way to mar her perfect skin, to ensure no man would want her enough to take advantage of her unless he was too drunk to see her clearly. The pain of the needle in her skin brought perfect clarity, and she could be free for a few hours in the chair. Hannah was giving her the chance to try it from the other end, to be the one wielding the needle and offering the adrenaline and euphoria to others. She started the following day, assuming she could keep her crap together long enough to work a full day without breaking down. Maybe in Abbott she could build a better life, if her demons would just leave her alone.
