Maybe that’s why I’m being so bold.
Or maybe Morgan just makes me a braver person.
Morgan and alotof gin.
The only reason I didn’t throw up over the side of the yacht is that I’d already… taken care of that in the casino bathroom on the way out. And stolen a whole fistful of mints, the remainders of which still rustle in my pocket as Morgan leads me back out of the marina.
I’m sobering up, but I’m even dizzier than before, probably because my body doesn’t know where to put my blood. Every time Morgan speaks, the ground shifts beneath me.
Her jacket drapes around my shoulders, and it smells like her. Cedar and whiskey and leather. Her warmth lingers in the silk, and her arm wraps around me, keeping me close to her side.
I can’t tell if I’m shivering or trembling. I think it’s both. Everywhere my body isn’t touching her warmth, it’s bitter cold, prickling with gooseflesh.
I never meant to fall apart like this.
I can’t help it.
I can’t stop thinking the words that shift between question and revelation:
Morgan has always wanted me?
Morgan has always wanted me.
We reach the car, and I have no idea how far away the hotel is, how long I’m going to have to wait.
For what?
I don’t dare imagine.
For a cold shower, I remind myself. For a chance to reset and not embarrass myself. I can’t imagine Morgan wants someone as clingy and desperate as I’m feeling. I’m on the edge of begging her to strip me right here.
It’s my own fault. After I thought Morgan was done with me, I kind of forgot about… being proactive. The alcohol in my system might be the only reason that I merely have a semi.
Morgan climbs into the car and holds out a hand to help me. I trip and land across her lap, my cheek nestled at the base of her neck.
“S-sorry,” I mutter, pushing myself half-upright as the door closes behind me.
But then Morgan’s deep laugh rumbles under me, and I realize she pulled me down on top of her.
Her eyes are like dark galaxies rimmed with purple stars. Her breath is almost as quick as mine.
“I should probably wear a seatbelt,” I murmur.
“My driver is very reliable,” she says.
My hands curl into the fabric of her shirt. She shifts her legs under me, revealing that I’m straddling one of her thighs as the movement sends a shock of pleasure through my body.
The car starts moving, and though the open windows and moonroof pull plenty of fresh air through, I’m still close enough to Morgan to catch a new dimension in her scent—an aromaticburning, like campfire.
The car accelerates suddenly, pressing me against Morgan’s chest, brushing my lips against hers.
I can’t bring myself to climb off.
I don’t know what to do.
“You really can’t take a hint, can you?” Morgan purrs, and then she grabs the back of my head and pulls me into a kiss.
NowI know what to do.
