No Strings

by Gerri Hill

  “Oh, God, no,” Morgan murmured. “I can’t, not this soon.”

  But her hips moved, taking Reese inside her. She gripped Reese hard, holding on as she pounded into her, effortlessly bringing her again to orgasm, and Morgan bit down on Reese’s shoulder as she climaxed for the second time in a matter of minutes.

  Morgan collapsed on the bed, her arms limp at her side, her eyes shut. “You’re trying to kill me.”

  “Hardly.”

  Morgan rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes, finding Reese there, her mouth only inches away. Her lips parted, waiting. Morgan pulled her gaze away, finding Reese’s eyes instead. “No,” she whispered.

  “I just want to kiss you.”

  “No.” Morgan forced herself up, smiling. “But I do want to kiss you,” she whispered. Without ceremony or preamble, she cupped Reese’s hips—bringing her to her mouth—and buried her face in her wetness, feasting on Reese as if she were starving.

  She took her hard, her tongue moving quickly across her clit, then sucking her fully into her mouth, suckling her as Reese squirmed beneath her.

  She felt Reese’s hands in her hair, her fingers twitching as Morgan took her to the edge again. Morgan held on tight as Reese rose off the bed, her hips held high before collapsing in orgasm.

  Morgan lifted her mouth away, letting herself be pulled up into Reese’s arms. They lay together, holding each other as their breathing returned to normal. No words were spoken. Morgan felt her eyes sliding closed and knew she should get up, knew she should leave.

  In a little while, she thought as she settled against Reese, her eyelids heavy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Morgan wasn’t sure she was happy to see Reese or not when she spotted the Sheriff’s Department truck waiting for her at the trailhead the next morning. She’d already decided that if Reese wasn’t there—it was five minutes after their agreed upon time already—she was leaving.

  But no. A ski trip seemed inevitable as Reese smiled broadly at her.

  “You’re late.”

  Morgan arched an eyebrow. “And very tired. You must be too. Maybe we should call it off,” she said.

  “No, no. I feel great. Invigorated, in fact.”

  “How nice.”

  Reese came closer. “Don’t you feel invigorated, Morgan?”

  “I got home at three a.m. No, I don’t feel invigorated. I need more than three hours sleep.”

  “I asked you to stay,” Reese said. “Besides, you slept some with me, didn’t you?”

  “I slept briefly. And how would I explain getting home at six?”

  “It’s winter. Who’s out at that hour?”

  “Randy Cummins works in Gunnison and is on the road by six, for one.”

  “Well, if someone saw you, you could always say you were up and on patrol early.”

  “Right. Like you said, it’s winter.” She pulled her pack from the back of her truck. “Even Googan takes it easy in the winter.”

  She frowned as Reese stood there holding her skis. “Where’s your gear?”

  “What gear?”

  “Your fishing gear.”

  Reese shook her head. “I don’t have any fishing gear.”

  Morgan glared at her. “I’m out here at daybreak to take you fishing and you don’t have any gear? Are you kidding me?”

  “You’re a little cranky this morning.”

  “You think?”

  “Well, I thought, as the fishing guide, you would provide the gear,” she said with an exaggerated smile.

  “Fishing guide? You want a fishing guide, you hire Ed Wade and pay him a hundred bucks an hour to get up at daybreak,” Morgan said loudly as she stomped around to the side of her truck for her skis. “Didn’t bring gear,” she mumbled. “Figures.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “You’re going to try to throw me in the water, aren’t you, Zula?”

  “I wouldn’t turn your back on me if I were you, Clarice.”

  Reese met her eyes. “Funny. Last night you wanted me to turn—”

  Morgan held up her hand. “Don’t go there.”

  Yes, last night she had wanted to do a lot of things with Reese Daniels. But that was last night. Today, with the prospect of a two-mile hike to the river, she wanted to throw Reese Daniels in the rushing stream.

  But the trip across the meadow was easy, and after a few minutes, Morgan gave in as the beauty of the early morning penetrated her senses. The meadow was still pristine white from the snow, a sharp contrast to the dark green of the spruce and fir trees that lined the edges. In the spring, this meadow was a favorite spot as it came alive with the colors of wildflowers. And in fall, late in the evenings, this was where you came if you wanted to watch deer and elk forage before dark.

  “I heard a rumor that Tracy fishes,” Reese said, breaking the silence.

  “No rumor. True. She’s quite good and loves it. I think if she had a mind to, she could open up her own guide service.” Morgan grinned. “Maybe you should get her to take you fishing from now on,” she tossed over her shoulder, hearing Reese laugh.

  “Eloise says she’s turning thirty.”

  “That’s true too.”

  “And never married?”

  Morgan stopped, turning carefully with her skis. “I know where you’re going with this, but she’s straight. When Tracy and I became friends, her mother thought I was after her. She started bugging her to move to Gunnison, start college, be around people her own age.”

  “You’re not much older. You said you’re what? Thirty-six?”

  “I’ll be thirty-six in May. You?”

  Reese nodded. “Thirty-seven.”

  “Anyway, Tracy’s content here.” Morgan shrugged. “Much like I am. The prospects of a romantic relationship are thin, but there are many other things in life. Tracy enjoys the outdoors. So working at Sloan’s during the late shift gives her the opportunity to play all day.”

  “You mentioned her mother, so I guess she’s from here?”

  “Yep. Born and raised. Her two brothers work over at Thompson’s Ranch, which is where most of the locals work. Those that don’t cater to the tourists, that is. Or the handful who drive to Gunnison every day.”

  “Like Randy Cummins, who might spy you coming home from my place in the wee hours of the morning,” Reese teased.

  Morgan smiled. “See? You’re learning.”

  They made the rest of the trip to the river in silence. Morgan was too absorbed in the beauty around her to offer conversation.

  She supposed Reese felt the same. As if their voices would disturb the splendor somehow.

  But at the river’s edge, they discarded their skis, the snow on the boulders nearly melted by the bright sunshine. The exertion from skiing had them both stripping off their lightweight jackets earlier. Now, Morgan pulled off her sweatshirt as well, leaving her in a long-sleeved flannel shirt, similar to the one Reese wore.

  “Nice,” Reese said as she watched her strip.

  “Behave.”

  “I was talking about the river.”

  “Sure you were.”

  Reese smiled and turned her eyes to the rushing water. Morgan saw the smile fade from her face. She wondered if Reese could somehow feel her father’s ghost. Before she could stop herself, she moved closer, slipping her arms across Reese’s shoulders and pulling her into a tight hug. She felt Reese’s warm breath on her neck and she closed her eyes, surprised at her body’s reaction to such a platonic embrace. She backed away when her lips would have moved across Reese’s skin.

  “Thanks,” Reese murmured. She tilted her head. “I vowed I would have nothing to do with boats or water. Or fishing ever again. Yet here I am.”

  “We don’t have to fish.”

  “No. It’s silly. Fishing didn’t kill him.”

  “And you didn’t kill him either,” Morgan said firmly.

  Reese squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I always loved
to fish. I’ve missed it.” She turned. “But you know, if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll skip it this trip. I mean—”

  “You don’t have to explain. It’s a beautiful morning, we had a pleasant, non-strenuous ski trip, and if you’re up for it, we could ski down along the river for a bit.”

  “Why, Zula, are you actually suggesting more skiing?”

  Morgan smiled. For some reason, Reese’s use of her middle name wasn’t annoying her today. But still, for appearance sake, “If you call me that one more time, I’m shoving you into the river.”

  “Idle threat, my love. Idle threat.”

  Morgan rushed forward and grabbed Reese’s arms, playfully pushing her toward the water. But Reese spun them around and Morgan found herself holding on to Reese as she teetered near the edge.

  “Don’t you dare,” Morgan shrieked as Reese leaned her backward over the water.

  “Or what?” she teased.

  “Reese!”

  Reese smiled sweetly and pulled Morgan close, out of harm’s way. “Do I get a kiss as my reward for saving you?”

  “Saving me? I do believe you were the one pushing me.”

  Morgan’s eyes dropped to Reese’s lips, which were dangerously close.

  “You know, the more you tell me I can’t kiss you, the more I want to.”

  “Yes, well, I have this rule, see. And kissing is not allowed,” she said as she tried to pull out of Reese’s arms.

  “Tell me again why.”

  “You know why.”

  “What if I told you I wanted to break the rule?”

  Morgan laughed. “Yes, I know you want to break the rule. But no.”

  “I’m a really good kisser.”

  “I don’t doubt that. I have some idea of what your mouth can do, you know.” Morgan felt her face flush as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

  Reese’s eyebrows shot up. “As do I. In fact, last night—”

  Morgan covered Reese’s mouth with her hand. “I will not talk about sex with you.”

  “You started it,” Reese mumbled from behind Morgan’s hand.

  She jerked her hand away when she felt Reese’s tongue swipe across her palm. But as she turned, Reese’s fingers wrapped around her arm, pulling her back. Dark eyes captured hers, holding her in place effortlessly. With her pulse pounding far too rapidly, Morgan looked beyond Reese, taking in the snowcapped mountain peaks, the dark green of the spruce trees. She even tried listening to the chatter of the gray jays and the insistent calling of the mountain chickadees. The fresh air, the crystal blue sky, the sounds of the forest…none of it could distract her from the woman who stood before her. A woman who wanted to kiss her. Her gaze settled on Reese’s lips and she swallowed, her throat dry. It was at that very instant that she knew if she should allow a kiss between them, then all bets were off. She wanted her too much, she enjoyed her too much.

  She raised her eyes to Reese’s. “I’m not going to kiss you,” she managed before turning away. She made a fist, hating how easily Reese could get her heart rate up. It was one thing, at night when they were alone, but not during the day, not when they were supposed to take a friendly hike on skis, not when there was nothing to their relationship but sex. She wasn’t supposed to have to deal with these emotions. She wasn’t supposed to want her this much. Or like it as much as she did.

  “It’s really very beautiful out here, isn’t it?” Reese asked unexpectedly.

  Morgan nodded, watching as Reese’s gaze traveled along the river, then back to the meadow.

  “I bet it’s nice in the spring.”

  “The wildflowers are gorgeous, yes.” Morgan walked back to where their skis were propped against a tree. “You want to ski down river?”

  “If you’re up to it, Zula,” she said quietly behind her.

  Morgan looked up, meeting her eyes, wondering how the name she hated most could sound almost like an endearment when Reese used it.

  “I’m up for it, Clarice.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Reese settled back in her chair, folding her hands behind her head and staring at her dark computer screen. Daybreak was still an hour away, but she couldn’t sleep. After their hike, they had parted there in the meadow. And by nine that evening, with no word from Morgan, Reese had finally accepted the fact that she would be alone for the evening. But she slept fitfully, tossing around in the bed, feeling a restlessness she wasn’t used to. Last night, she had refused to believe it had anything to do with Morgan’s absence. But this morning?

  She missed her. And not just the sex.

  She got up and went into the main office for another cup of coffee. Well, missed her or not, it was what it was. Their arrangement was to get together occasionally for sex. There was no mention of companionship, of dinner, of watching a movie together. All normal things that two people who were dating would expect. Because they weren’t dating.

  She sipped her coffee, looking out onto the dark quiet street of downtown Lake City, knowing she was in for another uneventful day. Enough uneventful days made for an uneventful week. Christmas would come and go in eight days time, then the new year. And then they’d be stuck in the middle of winter, hunkering down, as Eloise said, to wait it out. Spring came slowly up here. Or so she was told. And by April, if she’d survived, the spring thaw would begin. And spring brought warmer weather, bright flowers, green grass. And spring brought summer. And summer brought the tourists and an end to uneventful days.

  She wondered if summer would also bring an end to her and Morgan’s arrangement.

  I hope not.

  §

  Morgan hung her jacket on the coat rack in the corner after a curt nod at Berta who already had her knitting stuff out. It was a sign of the slow days of winter when Berta spent most of her time working on her latest afghan. She glanced into Charlie’s office, seeing the newspaper spread out.

  “Morning,” she called as she pulled out her chair.

  “How was skiing?”

  Morgan glanced at Berta and made a face at her. “Skiing was skiing. At least it wasn’t cold.”

  “Fishing?”

  “No.”

  “I thought that was the point.”

  “She didn’t have gear and thought I would supply it. As if I’m a freakin’ guide,” she added, hoping her tone sounded as annoyed as she intended it to be.

  “If she doesn’t want Ed Wade, she should ask Tracy,” Berta said.

  “Yes, I told her the next time she got a wild hair about fishing, not to call me.” Morgan rummaged in her backpack, finding the bottle of ibuprofen she kept in there at all times. She was three days early, but she’d started her period this morning. And along with that came cramps. And bloating. And maybe she was just a tiny bit irritable. That irritability was what prevented her from going to Reese’s last night. That and the fact that she thought the whole situation was becoming a little, well, uncomfortable.

  After only a few days together, she was already losing her grasp on the no strings arrangement. Because it felt too much like they were dating, too much like it was normal, and far too right to be together. The sex was effortless…natural. So she’d stayed away last night, trying to put a little distance between them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Reese heard the bell jingle and listened for a familiar voice.

  Another night had come and gone and still no word from Morgan.

  She thought perhaps she might just pop over for a visit, but it was a man’s voice she heard.

  “Sure, she’s in. Go on back.”

  Reese frowned. It was unlike Eloise to just send anyone back without letting her know. She stood as a large man filled her doorway.

  “Chief Daniels,” he greeted her, his voice loud. He stuck his hand out. “I’m Ron Brightmen, nice to finally meet you.”

  She took his hand and nodded. “Right. I’m living in your cabin. Thanks.”

  He sat in the visitor’s chair without asking, motioning for Reese to ha
ve a seat. Reese remained standing.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Brightmen?”

  “Oh, I just wanted to visit with you a bit. As one of the commissioners, consider it a welcoming party,” he said with a laugh.

  “Well, I’ve been here two months so you’re a little late.”

  “Sorry about that. Fall’s my busiest time of year. I have an outfitting service, so we have a lot of out-of-state hunters who come up here. I’m sure you’ve heard of my place, the B and B Resort up above the lake there.”

  She shook her head as she settled back into her chair. “No, I haven’t heard of it.”

  “Oh, well, we don’t really do business with the locals.” He laughed. “I suppose most of them are pissed off about it anyway. I have my own little store up there, a restaurant, the hunting cabins. No need for my clients to even come down into town for supplies.”

  “You’re a county commissioner yet you get pleasure from taking business away from the locals? I’m surprised you get reelected.”

  “I get reelected because I have more money than anyone in the county other than Stuart Thompson.”

  “So he’s a commissioner too?”

  “Yep. Me and Stuart and Michael Turner.”

  “And what does Mr. Turner do?”

  “He owns the Mountaintop RV Resort, going up Cinnamon Pass.”

  “Yes, I’ve been by there. Nice place.”

  “Yeah, he’s full up every summer.” He leaned forward. “I really came by to thank you,” he said.

  “Thank me for what?”

  “Taking the job, for one thing. We were hard-pressed when Ned decided to leave in the middle of his term. We didn’t think we’d find anyone to take his place. And the thought of Googan being interim sheriff for two years wasn’t appealing to anyone.”

  He held out his hand again. “If there’s anything you need, anything we can do for you, you just let me know.”

  She shook his hand, then glanced at the card he’d casually tossed on her desk. “Thanks, Mr. Brightmen, but as you know, I’m only here for the one year. If his term is not up for two, then I guess you’ll have Googan to deal with interim after all.”