by TN King
Just because he was emotionally invested though didn’t mean anything really, it didn’t change things so drastically that it just made everything clear. What could he promise, in reality? What could he say? He could only do the best that he was able, he could only try his hardest. He knew that he had to take it slow with her this time. He’d rushed it, rushed through it, and left her, and in the process, he had almost lost her entirely. And almost losing her had twisted him up inside in a way that he hadn’t even known was possible. Whereas holding her right now? It felt right.
Doing all of these things to help advance her and secure a future for the two of them, or at least the possibility of one, it felt right. She needed to be in his life ‒ in his world, and that was all he really knew for sure. He needed to try, and so he would. Even if it meant going gray before his time.
It seemed to be enough for her though, Ellie’s lips tilting in a real, warm smile before tightening her arms about him even further. “Okay,” she agreed, lifting up on her toes to seal their deal with her lips. Just as warm and inviting as her smile had been, her little hands fitting at his back and holding him close in a way that he’d never before known. And he was starting to think—never would again.
CHAPTER NINE
Ellie
The next day was a flurry of movement, despite Ellie not having much in the way of possessions it was still an all day affair of packing what she did own up in boxes and duct tape. So much duct tape. They’d had to stop mid packing at least three separate intervals in order for Morgan to run to the nearest corner store and grab another pack of tape as well. It was only when they were finally got all moved and in she had finished unpacking what they had brought into the new place when she finally felt like she could take a breath. The apartment really was lovely.
It was more than lovely.
She leaned back against the granite countertop, surveying it with all of her personal items in place and grinning hugely at Morgan as he came up to her again. He, himself, was grinning as well, pulling a small box with a disproportionately large, red ribbon off of it, and pushing it towards her on the counter tops. “A house warming gift,” he demurred, already obviously anticipating her argument.
Not that she could stop it from leaving her lips anyways. “Morgan!” she admonished, putting her hands on her hips and coming off of the counter with a shake of her head. “You have given me more than enough already. I mean how will I ever pay it all back?” she asked, equal parts of her shocked and confused. He’d already gifted her a car and an apartment. Not to mention all of the furniture within the one. She was still unbelievably confused over all of it and just trying to roll with the punches.
He lifted a brow at her, one side of his lips kicking up mischievously as his gaze intensified. “I can think of many, sorted, naughty ways.” He promised her, leaning in with a waggle of his brows.
Her body warmed with the flush that overtook her, toes curling deep inside of her shoes at the implication. They had said slow, but that expression he had on his face and the way his eyes moved up and down her body was making it hard for her to remember that. “I am not a call girl,” she said with feigned offence, her arms crossing over her chest and her face assuming the best mock outrage she could muster.
He tilted his head, eyes studying her as if to figure out what she meant, his lips twitching even as he did so. He held her gaze, strongly, grey eyes oscillating between amusement and desire.
She couldn’t keep her mock-rage up under such scrutiny. Even if they had this tentative agreement to take it slower, she couldn’t pretend that she wasn’t affected, and she didn’t much want to. They had said honesty above all else, and she meant for that to stay true. She was just teasing him in the first place, just like he was doing her. The man was just too sexy even when he was caught off guard. Her heartbeat fluttered, swallowing heavily at the emotion that he made her feel, especially so unexpectedly. She narrowly eyed him for another moment before finally taking the box, crossing the small space, and sitting on her soft, new couch before hefting it.
It wasn’t terribly heavy, but it sure felt different, fingering the red bow for a moment before going to untie the bow carefully. “I swear Morgan,” she muttered, pulling the lid off of the box only to find layers and layers of expensive tissue paper folded over.
She pulled the paper back, her breath catching in her throat and her eyes widening. All she could see at first was a beautiful cobalt blue fabric, shining out of the white box. Her fingers poured over the fabric in awe, her hands very carefully lifting the folded gown inside out of the box completely so that she could see it in its entirety. It was beautiful. A long sheath of blue with studded rhinestones lining the bodice Turning it around revealed a beautiful V cut out along the back that she just knew would end only just above the dimples on the small of her back.
“Ohh!” she gasped out, turning the gown around and around again, her eyes round in her face. She didn’t even know how to grasp it, didn’t know how to properly express her thanks for it, or anything else. It was magnificent and she was awed all over again.
“Does that mean you like it?” Morgan asked, looking slightly nervous.
It took her a long moment to tear her eyes away from the dress, lifting them up to him and barely forming words together. “I-I…never owned anything like this! I-it must have c-cost—” she stuttered out, her brain stuttering even more than the words coming out of her lips. She couldn’t wrap her head around it—or even comprehend the level of beauty in just the one dress.
“No, no,” he gently corrected her, shaking his head. “We aren’t going to discuss how much it cost.”
Her eyes dropped back to the dress, her fingers running over it once more, folding it carefully back into the box. Confused, she lifted her gaze again, reality finally overpowering the beauty of it. “Why are you buying me a dress?” she questioned, her eyebrows furrowing.
His lips parted, teeth glittering out from between them like the answer to some secret only he knew. “For the ball, Cinderella, for the ball,” he teased her.
It took another moment for it to set in, her brain tumbling to catch up with him. Mercy, but he could make her speechless even fully dressed. She paused again for another moment, face screwing up in concentration before it came to her. “Oh, that ball in New York?” The charity ball he had been talking about? She supposed that made sense, she certainly hadn’t had anything fitting for it, as she was sure he knew after helping her move the entire contents of her closet and everything else from her former home.
He didn’t seem too concerned by her brain lapse though, waiting patiently and then nodding once she guessed it right. “That very one,” he answered with a slight chuckle, obviously amused instead of upset.
Which was good, really it was. She was terribly grateful, for literally everything he had been doing for and with her. It was just that, again, it was a terribly lavish gift, just like she had originally said. And it was the kind of dress that she could have never afforded in a million years to wear, she didn’t even know if she could wear it as he was suggesting.
“Oh,” he interrupted her, stepping over to her on the couch and lifting his finger to gently pull her lip from her teeth. “Don’t do that sweet Ellie,” he warmly corrected her. “You’ll look mesmerizing in it,” he assured her, as if plucking her deepest insecurity concerning it straight from the recess of her thoughts.
“B-but…” she hesitated further, trying to envision herself clothed in the studded cobalt fabric and coming up short. She couldn’t see it, not even kind of. Just like she couldn’t imagine him having bought her the dress in the first place.
“You will look so lovely and I would be proud to arrive there with you on my arm,” he stated solemnly, catching her gaze and holding it within his warm, steel gaze.
Words escaped her further, her heartbeat stuttering. What was she supposed to do? To say here? Would she even fit in? What would she do there? How was she supposed to hold a conversation
with his class of people? And what about her shoes? She had the dress but she definitely didn’t have the shoes, the jewelry, or even the know-how on fixing her hair to match it. Shew that these fancy women there wore dresses like that all the time and that they’d know what to do ‒ she’d be a duck walking in high heels and obviously so out of place that—
Morgan laughed, cutting her thoughts short, taking her chin in his fingers and rolling his thumb along the line of her jaw. “I can see that brain of yours racing a mile a minute,” he chastised jokingly, smiling fondly down at her. “Tonight we will fly out there. Stop worrying. You, sweetness, will have your own suite to stay in at the Hunt Hotel in New York to admire to your heart’s content… and then after you settle in I’ve already arranged for a fashion consultant to arrive and help you get ready for the ball. Not,” he interrupted himself, pressing his thumb into her cheek. “That you wouldn’t have looked lovely enough without it. But I wanted to ensure that you were comfortable.”
Her heart lurched, warm bubbles of emotion coming up the back of her throat. He was… stupid charming, eloquent, and all around amazing. She didn’t have the words to give him for how much she appreciated him thinking about that, just like she didn’t have the words to thank him for any of the rest of it either. Instead, she looked back down at the dress, her eyes pouring over it even inside of its box. “Just look at the pretty bodice, she breathed, her fingers dancing just over it. “With the rhinestones all dotted along it, like a magical—”
“What?” Morgan interrupted, drawing his dark brows together.
Ellie raised the dress, looking at him expectantly. Damn, he could be such a man. She almost laughed about it, shaking her head. Of course, he hadn’t noticed the pretty details. “The bodice, you know the place that will cover my—breasts?” she explained, gesturing to the dress itself so he could actually see it for himself. Whether it was the rhinestones or the bodice, it was still amusing that he’d gotten caught up by a word such as that.
He paused momentarily as if he were imagining her breasts, his head tilting to the side with a warm tilt of his lips to match. He shook his head after a moment, dismissing the image, and focusing back on her once more ‒ the angle of his lips turned devilish. It was only then that he glanced down at the dress, looking over the bodice as she was highlighting it with her hands and his eyebrows lifting even further. “Oh, yes,” he said, comprehension dawning on his features. “You mean the diamonds?” he asked.
Her gaze snapped down to the dress, her stomach bottoming out into her toes. “T-the d-diamonds?” she stuttered, her breath caught deep in her throat. Diamonds?!
Morgan laughed heartily, shaking his head at her as if he didn’t understand the severity of her reaction. “Yes, that is what you are referring to, right?” Reaching out to point out exactly what she’d been calling rhinestones on the dress.
REAL DIAMONDS? Her mind screamed as her throat had closed in shock. How could he say that so nonchalantly? As if it changed nothing at all? The dress had actual diamonds on it and she was supposed to just think it was hunky-dory?
He kept chuckling, taking her silence as assent. Which it was. “Well, I already chose a few pair of heels, also diamond studded,” he informed her, ignoring her small gasp of surprise. “I mean I am a man, yes. But I know the world I live and play in and I matched a few pairs for you to choose from. However…” He raised the dress up to her, gaze dragging down her and back up again.
She grabbed it and held it up in place, looking down herself and trying to see what he was seeing. Diamond studded heels he said, answering her earlier fear related to her shoes and creating a whole new kind of fear. Her heartbeat was too fast, and not for the usual reasons when he was looking at her.
“Yes, when I saw it…I knew it was the dress for you. Dammit, it even matches your eyes,” he breathed out, his gaze darkening to a steely gray as he stared at her. His gaze rolled over her form, tracing every curve and rounded edge delightedly, his eyes darkening more and more the longer he looked over her.
She swallowed harder past the obstruction in her throat, her mind, and emotions at war all over again. Oh, but he was handsome, especially when he looked at her like this. Her blood sang, calling to him, calling to herself to give into him and insist that they do away with their agreement already.
He sighed, obviously in the same line of thought as she was, and took a step back as if he were restraining himself somehow. Every line of his body was taut, fingers curling into fists at his sides, as he straightened his form. “So, we fly there tonight,” he said briskly, clearing his throat to rid it of the dusky edge it had taken upon looking at her with the dress held up to her as it had been. “Then check into the suites. Then have a…” he paused and gazed into her startled eyes. “…dinner. And I promise it will be a chaste dinner.” He held his hand up as if to stay the imagery from the, decidedly unchaste dinner he was referring to.
A shiver worked its way down Ellie’s spine, her whole body flushing at once. Their dinner in the nude and their dessert that first time, strawberries and cream would never be the same for her again. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips and rearranging, dropping the dress from her body and slowly folding it back into the box. She wanted him again. Right now. And by the look that had been lingering in those magnificent eyes of his he was remembering and wanting to repeat it too.
She took a deep breath, slowly letting it out and trying to restrain herself. She couldn’t just rush him and climb up his form right now. They were taking it slow, as they should be. “Oh, okay,” she agreed huskily, taking her turn to clear her throat and speak around it. “So you have tickets on the airlines, right? I know there are a couple of airlines that I feel nervous about flying—”
Again, he burst into laughter, cutting off her rambling and eying her as if she were the most amusing thing on the planet.
Her eyebrows lifted, eying him narrowly. “And what did I say now?” she asked, partly in frustration. She was nervous about flying with certain airlines, and it wasn’t a lack of experience this time either, but a rational fear. “I mean it is important.” She almost wanted to fling the dress back at him and tell him to stuff it for finding all of it as amusing as he obviously was. Her eyes narrowed.
He shook his head and stepped close again, taking her in his hands and lifting her face again. His gaze was still amused, but it was soft, his lips twitching. “I have my own jet, Sweetness.” He explained, obviously fighting grinning around the words.
Her eyes widened, surprised by the shock she had learning it even. Yes, of course he did! Why wouldn’t she have just assumed that? He had what looked like everything else it seemed, he was filthy rich, of the sort she’d never even been able to imagine. “Oh,” was her pithy, late response.
He smiled and sidled even closer to her, his arms wrapping about her until he could pull her closer to him this time. “I will be back with the limo,” he told her warmly. “Don’t pack a single thing sweetness. You won’t need any of it.”
Her thoughts spun. Did he mean to keep her naked in the suite until the ball? While that wasn’t the worst that she could imagine… it did sound like another set up. But she couldn’t help but battle with the images of him keeping her locked up and naked at his pleasure. And his pleasure would always be hers, just like he’d shown her that first night. Her stomach flipped, a shiver working its way down her spine and her teeth capturing her bottom lip slowly.
“Dammit,” Morgan swore, his eyes catching on her lip where she had taken it between her teeth. “Fuck Ellie.” He sighed, giving in and dropping his head in order to replace her teeth on her lips with his mouth. It wasn’t savage and desperate as it’d been recently, but it was no less possessive for it, her body forming to his instantly.
Again, Ellie’s knees went weak as his tongue claimed her, twisting and curling inside of her lips. Heat spread through her body thoroughly, her mind blanking out everything except for the rampant desire that he brought. Just another shock t
o add to the dress, the jet, the suite, and the ball. Everything was compiling at once, his hands pushing against the small of her back. She couldn’t focus, she wasn’t even sure she could function beyond moving her lips back against his.
Her hands shifted, moving as if to lift up to him- but it seemed to jolt him back into reality. He slid his arms from around her, returning his hands to himself and shaking his head as if to shake away the haze of desire that had fallen over the both of them. “Fuck,” he cursed, low and under his breath, sounding half surprised at getting so carried away himself. “It is going to be so hard not to…” he trailed off, staring at her lips again with an unfathomable expression deep in his steel gaze. “I love the way your lips look all rosy and swollen after I kiss you,” he told her, his voice low and dark.
Her thighs clenched, wetness pooling between them instantly. The way he said it, the way he looked at her while saying it… Dammit. She tried to keep from moaning, the barest breath escaping her lips as she stared back at him. She wasn’t going to be able to resist him, not even kind of. If, at this moment, he were to jump her, she would latch onto him for dear life. She wouldn’t be able to help it, to stem her reactions. They were too strong and too consuming.
He broke his gaze from her lips, glancing up at her and the hunger in his features slowly dissipating. It was his turn to take a deep, steadying breath, taking another half step back and shaking his head as if further dismissing his own rampant reactions. “What I meant was that everything will be provided for you at the hotel,” he explained, turning their conversation back to where it had been before they both became so distracted. “I will be back in a couple of hours with the car,” he continued. “Be ready, okay?”
She could do more than nod mutely, holding the boxed dress up to her chest and staring at him with a large lump in her throat. Her eyes were wide and still, barely blinking as she held her breath. How could he just switch back so easily? How was it that he was able to string words together into sentences so shortly after they had been joined like they were? Wasn’t he, too, struggling with denying that impulse and remaining clothed and unattached?
