CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Morganna
IT WAS A nice break. A healthy break, from work and real life. It’s funny how going back to my hometown grounds me in a way that nothing else can. Of course, being with Steven is the main reason I’m so relaxed and ready to tackle my workload and the New Year with a brand new positive outlook. My polished reflection in the mirror looks the same as it always has, but I can’t deny the sparkle in my eye that hasn’t been there for a long time.
Since Stone died.
Is it because Steven is the first person or relationship that I’ve delved into since, or is it because what we’re beginning is something real and true—something that will surely take away the final pain that hasn’t eased? I’m almost afraid to admit it’s the latter, because that overshadows my love for my husband in some cosmic way, right? Because Steven is so similar in so many ways, I can’t ignore the niggling feeling. I can ignore it enough to enjoy my newfound emotional freedom. Daddy always told me that words cut. Words are harmless to me now…in my profession and at this point in my life. Lies are words. Some words are even so insignificant as to be called hollow. I’ve learned that absence is what cuts the deepest. It slices you in places you never knew were there. The freedom comes from the lack of absence. Steven is here, he’s with me in more ways I can count. The fact that he understands everything I’ve been through is just bonus.
With a freshly pressed designer skirt suit and a full face of complementary makeup, I’m ready for anything that comes my way. Phillipe picks me up early, because he knows I’ll be ready before our agreed upon time, and takes me into the office—a place I rarely visit as I usually conduct business from my home office. Today I have a meeting with Penelope that requires an associate to sit in on as we prepare paperwork and file everything for the upcoming divorce proceedings. She called me twice last night to make sure she was making the right decision to take him for all he’s worth. I convinced her she’s worth way more than we’re going after and he’s earned a far harsher punishment.
I push through the large, heavy double doors of the icy office with my head as high as it can go. This is Morganna Sterns as the world knows me— tenacious, predatory, on top of the world, regardless of life’s circumstances. I come out on top, always. It’s not an option. Respect is required in my field. The secretary at the desk says a polite hello with her head down and directs me to the proper conference room. Philippe chatters behind me on my cell phone, taking messages that I’m already processing in my head at the same time. A couple of the men in one of the offices pop their heads out to leer, their eyes wandering up and down my body, assuming I’m completely unaware of their creepy attention.
I let my gaze dart toward them. “Any good cases, boys?” I narrow my eyes and smirk. One attorney with a bad side part and fake smile turns red from the neck up. “Seems as if you have too much time on your hands,” I say, diverting my attention back to the hallway in front of me. I flick my perfectly waved hair over one shoulder and don’t think about them again. It’s why I avoid the office.
I requested Toni, a shrewd female attorney, to sit in today’s proceedings with Penny and me. I think Toni swings the other way—you can never be sure if a person’s lack of dating life is attributed to having a highly successful career or because there aren’t enough fish in the dating pond. I’d guess if she does prefer women, her options in Virginia Beach are limited and even further sliced in half when you pair them with her IQ and ambition.
Steeling myself, I open the one-way tinted door. “Penelope!” I say, greeting my client with a huge smile and fake octave. A wide, relieved smile breaks across her own face. I sit my leather briefcase on the mahogany conference table as Phillipe sets to work arranging papers to be signed. He’s done this so many times it takes no thought at all, and he even balances a phone call while sorting. I love him for so many reasons. Mostly because he is the gay version of me.
I nod at Toni, who sits across the table. Her white blouse is starched to death and her lank hair is scraped back into a messy ponytail. It’s not the chic messy ponytail either. It’s the “I don’t give a shit” hairstyle. She nods back and continues her conversation, and gestures for me to let her know when I’m ready.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous, Morganna. It’s so odd. I haven’t seen him in forever. You know I haven’t had any contact with David for so long that I have no idea where he’s at,” Penny explains.
I knew this fact. The private eye lost track of the crazy asshole before I left for Georgia. I don’t tell my client that.
“It’s the final steps today, Penny. Everything will be over soon. Do you have any specific questions for me?” I feel the need to be a touch more professional in this atmosphere than I would at home.
Her gaze flicks left and right, falling on Phillipe and then on Toni who has graciously ended her phone call. “You’re sure he won’t be in court?”
I shake my head.
“No. The way we’ve set it up has given him no choice in the matter. He’ll meet with his attorneys and you meet with us, and there’s nothing more to do. David knows he’s in a corner.”
Toni pipes up. “Everyone knows what happens when you force people into corners.” Ever so tactful and even less helpful. I glare at her. She closes her mouth and has the good sense to look a little put off.
“Yes, they get caught,” I reply, making sure Penny feels the confidence radiating in my voice. Phillipe answers another call and I can tell by the change in his tenor that it’s Steven. I can’t help it; I pause just to see if I can make out his muffled voice through Phillipe’s blue tooth.
“She’s in a meeting right now. No, I will not relay that message. Is there something more appropriate you want me to tell her?” I stifle a smile by biting my lip.
I pass the paperwork that Toni has initialed over to Penny and watch as she signs the dotted line.
“Oh, should I?” Phillipe says, still chatting with Steven. “Maybe I’ll tell her that.” Now that catches my attention and I send a calculated side-eye to my assistant. He obviously thought I was enrapt in the document signing process and wouldn’t hear him.
“David already agreed to the terms because there isn’t another way around it. He cheated on you and with the prenuptial in place he can’t challenge it. Everything is yours. Including his balls in a jar if you deem them worthy to keep,” I explain. Toni snorts.
Penelope shifts in her chair as she continues scribbling her name. “He makes me nervous. You know he’s…”
I interrupt, knowing where she’s going with her thoughts. “He’s hit you before. He’s beaten you. Just another reason you need not worry about the proceedings.” My blood boils. I want David’s balls in a jar regardless if she does or not. My tolerance stands at zero for domestic violence of any sort. Her soon to be ex-husband is the worst kind of offender. The photos of Penny’s face are criminal. They’re tucked in a manila envelope along with the damning photo evidence of her husband with other women. After today, my hope is that Penelope never has to hear his name again. Toni shifts in her seat, obviously uncomfortable with my brash accusations.
A throat clears. “Excuse me, Ms. Sterns. I have an urgent message for you,” Phillipe lilts, obviously irritated. I hear the deep chuckle through the phone and wonder what Steven did to convince Phillipe to interrupt me during a meeting. A bold move, Steven. One he’ll pay for later.
Everyone turns to look at my assistant. My own cheeks heat even though I know I’m not blushing. I’m no longer capable of something so telling.
“On with it,” I command.
“Mr. Steven Warner would like to confirm your appointment for nine o’clock this evening. He also would like to know which game to bring—A, B, or C.”
I cough loudly, but it’s too late. Everyone’s already heard. I widen my eyes at Phillipe. He’ll pay for this show of unprofessionalism and he knows it.
“Yes. A,” I reply loud enough for Steven to hear me through the phone.
Phillipe hangs up without saying another word. Toni raises one eyebrow while scrolling through her Blackberry. Penelope reengages herself with signing documents, and I’m left sitting there irritated, yet turned on.
Leering men in the hallway don’t even trigger any other emotion except anger. Steven can interrupt an important meeting, something that is akin to a mortal sin, and I have to rub my legs together to quell the anticipation of being with him later.
I’ve got it bad—so bad that I’m questioning my normal principles.
I finish up our meeting, conducting myself in the most professional way I know how, and even manage to send Penny off with a smile. Hopefully she knows how confident I am. It’s not a false, attorney confidence either. Toni thanks me for inviting her in, and I gather my wits and libido and exit the conference room feeling a little less bold than I did when entering. I hope the leering jokers are busy working.
The weakness seeps in. I recognize it immediately. It’s the type that comes when you hand over a piece of yourself, and that small act forces you to care about something or someone other than yourself. It truly is a weakness. For me, it’s the ultimate. After Stone died I promised myself to stay on guard, and keep my hand close to my chest to keep the weakness at bay. The weakness Steven gives has always been there whether I’ve realized it or not.
I check a notepad with several messages from this morning. Most are Steven—my weakness staring up at me from a black and white page. “What else did he say?” I ask Phillipe when we’re out of earshot of anyone else.
“Many crude, disturbing things about what he plans to do with you tonight. Things that as your assistant I don’t think I should hear.” He cringes, and an exaggerated shiver shakes his shoulders. I roll my eyes.
“What, exactly?” I demand in the voice that I know he won’t ignore.
Phillipe sighs. “He asked if he can fill your meat wallet. He also insinuated something about riding him…like a horse. He wanted me to check on the new security camera as well. ” I wince.
“Sorry I asked,” I mutter.
Holding the door open, he clears his throat. “He also may have said how madly in love with you he is. That he’s always been in love with you.”
I stop dead in my tracks, cocking my head to one side. “What new security camera?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Steven
“TONIGHT HAS TO be the most romantic fucking date of my life. We leave next week and I need—notice I said need to be inside of her. Do you know how long it’s been? The thoughts that knock around my noggin when I’m sex deprived aren’t pretty,” I tell Cody. He’s hanging at my place after we worked out at the boxing gym together.
Cody takes a swig of beer. “Is Chloe texting you still?”
Sighing, I admit, “Yes. Just keeping in contact, though.”
“How exclusive are you with Morganna?” he asks.
“No.” That’s not even in the equation. It could be if I want to fuck up everything. “Patience. I just need some patience, that’s it. You were the one that told me to get rid of the girlfriends in the first place!”
Cody laughs, staring at me from across the room. “You’re twitching. You can’t just proclaim to be a cured manwhore. You were getting it every other night, right? How long has it been now?”
I’m so hard up that I don’t even give him a hard time for asking me such questions when he probably hasn’t been laid in months. Don’t get me wrong—I go months and months without sex when I’m deployed, but I don’t have hot, naked women with wet pussies hovering over my dick on the regular then. It’s easy to throw myself into work when the object of my wildest dreams isn’t in front of me on a regular basis. We’ve done everything except have sex. Everything with her in control of what happens, mind you. It was hot at first, but now I want a slice of the control pie. Handcuffs? Maybe her blindfolded? I’d settle for full privileges with her entire body.
I shake my head. “Weeks? A month?” I can’t think straight. Morganna from the past, present, and future wreaks havoc on my mind and body. I grab my beer from the counter and press a frozen steak on my eye. Cody socked me one good at the boxing gym and I have a rising, red welt above my eye. With the icing I’m hoping it doesn’t swell shut.
Keeping the cold meat on my face, I tilt my head back and finish my beer. “You can’t even say anything. How long has it been for you?”
“Last night,” Cody says, anticipating the question. He snatches my cell phone off the table in front of him and starts tapping the screen.
I’m so preoccupied with the mental image of him banging Lainey that I don’t even second-guess what he’s doing. Probably looking up sex on the Internet because he doesn’t know more than one position.
I grimace and then gesture for him to explain when he looks back up. “Lainey and I are sort of a thing. Since the party, you know?”
I didn’t know. Because I’m so absorbed with Morganna and doing everything the right way. Part of me wants to say fuck it and just handle things the way I always handle things. No finesse and crude jokes. Cody shakes his head and pats Gunner on the head when he trots by on the way to the front door.
“I had no idea. Must be going well if you’ve knocked boots more than once and she didn’t head for the hills,” I joke, shaking my head. He smiles, looking down toward his feet. “Does Morganna know?”
He meets my gaze. “ She does know. They’re neighbors, remember? And it is going quite well, it’s very convenient so don’t jinx it, asshole. We shouldn’t even be talking about me right now. Why don’t you try practicing the art form known as honesty? Tell Morganna how you feel. Tell her you want to fuck her so your head doesn’t pop off. Tell her all of the other sordid details that I’m sure track through your mind. You say she knows you so well. She won’t be surprised be then, right?”
I shift from one bare foot to the other, weighing whether I want to come clean with my friend or not. “She wants control…” I say low, my head turned away. I place my hands on my hips.
“Like in the bedroom?” Cody asks, incredulously, eyes widening. He’s heard stories from my conquests and can deduce from three words exactly what this means. “And you’re giving it to her?”
I shrug. “I have to, man. Now maybe you can better understand why I’m so riled up.” I pace around my living room wearing sweaty gym gear. I was too amped up to shower after our workout.
I nod as the ideas start flowing. I concoct a plan so fool proof that I question why I haven’t enacted it before now. Better pre-heat the oven right now, because that pie? It’s getting baked and then eaten.
“Tonight will be the night,” I tell Cody. Standing from my couch, he claps me on the back and heads out the garage door mumbling about meeting the guys to go out tonight. He doesn’t believe me, but like a good friend he keeps his mouth shut. Everyone thinks I’m kicking a dead horse. Morganna doesn’t know how long I’ve wanted to pursue her, but they do now.
I stick my head out the door he left out of and yell again for good measure, “I’m telling you! Tonight! I’ve got this!” It’s a convincing act for myself. He waves a middle finger in the air with a huge grin on his face. “I love you, too!” I scream before slamming the door. To get ready for tonight I need to clean my place and make a few stops in town.
By God, I need to get laid.
_______________
There are certain things I had to forget when deciding to go through with this. Riding in someone else’s wake is dangerous. Residing inside the wake when the waves crash against the shore is something else entirely. I need Morganna to know that I respect her past, that I respect her husband more than anything else, but I need something more. I need something she can’t give me because it belongs to someone else.
“Gunner, you need to stay in here tonight,” I coo at my dog, placing his dishes in my office and shutting the door. We just got back from a long run, so he’s tired and will pass out for the rest of the night without another sound. Working out when
you’re sexually frustrated staunches the pains for a little while. Two a day sessions has been my new normal. The upside is that I’m probably in better shape now than I’ve ever been in. That says something, because during training to become a SEAL I couldn’t eat calories quickly enough to account for what was burnt in a day. A box of Oreos every night was okay because I was seriously at a deficit.
Staring at my mirror, I’m happy with what I see. My skin is tanned from shirtless runs, and my abs are fucking steel. My thick thighs and arms are scrupulously sculpted.
“I could win a body building competition right now,” I say to myself, gloating and trying to forget exactly why I’m in this sort of shape. I have a white towel slung low over my hips, still wet from a shower when Morganna blasts into my bedroom, her hair in a long, perfected pony tail and her professional wear swapped for a casual pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
I turn to her, my hands on my hips, my stance wide. “Just in time,” I brag, watching her face morph from a sweet “hello” into something more sinister. It’s like a switch. Her gaze flicks up to meet mine.
Running a hand through her ponytail, she says, “I knocked forever so I just used your hide-a-key instead. You really should find a better hiding place for it, you know? Underneath the pirate frog is a little juvenile. Even for you.”
She takes a step toward me, face rapt with anticipation. The desire to kiss her burns strong. I take a step toward her. “If, and I use the word lightly, if someone lifts up my pirate frog looking for a key, they’ll get more than a strip tease when they make their way inside,” I explain, dropping my towel to the floor just to watch her face. If she could blush right now, I know she would.
“Well, um, it’s not wise,” she stutters. “What if you’re not home?” she says, her eyes glued to my stomach and dick.
I clear my throat. “Gunner will attack them.” Her eyes widen, and her face tilts up to look me in the eye.
The Crazy Good SEAL Series: Books 1-3 Page 48
