by Marla Monroe
“So, are you going to tell me where you’re headed so we can cut the trip short and get you there ASAP or not?” Morgan sat on the love seat with his long legs stretched out in front of him.
“Just take me wherever you’re going, and drop me off at the closest motel there. I’m not picky. I’m not heading anywhere in particular.” Amanda licked her lips and looked around the room for somewhere other than the bed to sit. There was nowhere else.
“Then tell me who you’re running from.”
Amanda jerked. “What makes you think I’m running from someone?”
“You have that look about you,” he said.
“What look?” She furrowed her brows.
“You’re always looking around, making sure there’s no one you know around you. You constantly look back when we’re riding. You’re running from someone. Are you in trouble with the law?” Morgan asked.
“No. I’m not in any trouble. I swear to you.” She stood up.
If he refused to take her any farther, she would be in trouble in this little backwoods town. She didn’t think there was even a bus stop there.
“Please, you have to believe me. I’m not going to be any trouble. I…I was seeing someone and found out he had a fiancée. I just want to get as far away from him as I can. That’s all.” She wrung her hands, pleading with him with her eyes.
“Shit.” He stood up and walked over to the window where he’d pulled the drapes back to reveal the pouring rain.
Amanda glanced at the clock by the bed. It was nearly noon and checkout time. What would he do? He turned around and switched on the TV, flipping channels until he found The Weather Channel. They spent the next fifteen minutes listening for the local weather. When the Local on the 8s came on, Amanda nearly cried. The radar showed heavy rain for at least the next several hours.
“I guess we’re stuck here for another night,” Morgan fussed. He switched off the TV and picked up the phone. “I’ll make sure we still have this room and get another room if they have one open.”
Amanda moved over to the love seat while he took over the bed and made the phone call. From the sound of things, there still wasn’t another room.
“We can stay here one more night, but they have a family reunion coming to town tomorrow, so we’re SOL after that.” He ran a hand through his hair and groaned.
“Um, do you think they have anything in the office worth eating? I’m sort of hungry,” Amanda said.
“Don’t know. Guess we need to find out before everyone else gets the same idea and cleans them out.”
They slipped out of the room, staying close to the building to avoid as much of the rain as possible. Still, by the time they made it to the office, they were both damp. Morgan’s shirt stuck to his body and outlined every contour of his muscular chest and tight abdomen. She licked her lips and suppressed a moan.
They were in luck, and the office had plenty of snacks available at an inflated price. She raided the drink machine while Morgan negotiated chips, cookies, and even a honey bun from the clerk manning the desk. He even produced a plastic bag for them to carry their stash back to the room. Morgan took both the drinks and the bag, leaving her with nothing to hold. She really needed something to occupy her empty hands with his delectable body so close to her and her hormones kicking up.
They started back toward the room, only this time they were facing into the wind. Morgan blocked much of the spray that would have probably blinded her. She kept one hand against his back as much for comfort as to keep up with him. When he suddenly stopped, she ran right into him and had to grab his waist with both hands to keep from falling backward. She looked around him to see why he’d stopped, only to see that someone had walked outside their door, right in front of him, and startled him.
“Uh, sorry. Didn’t see you, man,” Morgan told the man.
He merely grunted and disappeared back inside the room, but not before she caught a good look at his face—Mike, one of Guy’s goons. Shit. They’d followed her. What was she going to do now?
Amanda all but hugged Morgan’s body the rest of the way back to the room, and when he opened the door, she managed to make it inside before he even had the door all the way open.
“What in the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, dropping the bags to the bed.
“Sorry, have to go to the bathroom.” She hurried to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
They were there. How had they managed to keep up with her? Panic set in, and she began to hyperventilate. She grabbed a towel and balled it up, holding it to her face to breathe in and out of until she had her breathing back under control. Then she used it to dry off the worst of the rain.
The swift knock on the door startled her.
“You okay in there? Come on out. I need to dry off before I soak the floor.”
Amanda blew out a breath and opened the door, handing him the towel she’d just used. She stepped out of the bathroom and noticed her pack had been moved. Had Morgan looked through her things? She eyed him, trying to discern if he had, or if he’d just moved it out of the way.
“You need to get out of those wet clothes and put on something dry, or you’ll end up sick.” He ran the towel over his wet hair, then hung it up in the bathroom and began pulling off his shirt.
She quickly turned around and dug in her bag for dry clothes. She could hang the ones she was wearing up to dry. As soon as he abandoned the bathroom again, she grabbed her dry jeans and T-shirt and closed the door behind her. Hunger spurred her on to hurry and change clothes. It had been a good eight or ten hours since they’d eaten the lunch. She was starved.
When she opened the bathroom door again, it was to find that Morgan had changed into dry jeans, but hadn’t bothered to put on a fresh T-shirt. The muscles along his back rippled as he bent over and moved his boots out of the middle of the floor. Amanda swallowed down the need to reach out and touch him.
He turned around as if she’d made some sound and lifted an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Um, I’m starved. Can we eat?” She latched on to the only thing she could come up with.
“Sure, what do you want to start with?” he asked as he poured out the stash onto the bed.
The honey bun looked good to her. She grabbed it and took a seat on the floor with her back to the bed and opened the package.
“You have to share.”
“Share my honey bun? Are you crazy?” She laughed and shook her head.
“Yep. I want at least a bite. They’re my favorites.” Morgan looked deadly serious when he said it.
“Fine. I get first bite, though.” Amanda pulled back the plastic and bit into the delicious pastry.
When she looked up, she caught him staring at her tongue as she licked the sticky from her fingers. He grabbed one of her hands and pulled her finger toward his mouth. When he closed his lips around it and sucked, she thought she was going to climax from the sensation of his tongue twirling around it, the suction of his mouth. Then he let her go and stood up, carrying a bag of pretzels with him.
“I thought you wanted a bite?” she asked him in a breathy voice.
“I think I got what I wanted.”
They finished their snacks on opposite sides of the room, each avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Amanda drank the diet cola he had opened for her, while he took the orange soda. She found herself wondering what his kiss would be like after the soda. Realizing what she was thinking about, she growled and tossed her trash into the garbage can by the love seat.
“What?” he asked, looking at her funny.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You growled.”
“No, I didn’t.”
He shook his head and switched on the TV once again. “Maybe there’s something interesting on to pass the time.”
She sat on the love seat when he reclined on the bed, and they watched a series of sitcoms that were marginally funny. She leaned her head back against the back of t
he chair and squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall. What was she going to do? She couldn’t run forever. She needed long enough he couldn’t do anything about her anymore.
Somewhere she must have fallen asleep, because she woke up in bed with the covers pulled up to her neck. She took inventory and realized Morgan had pulled off her shoes and her jeans, but hadn’t bothered her shirt. She risked a glance sideways and found he was sprawled out on top of the covers on the other side of the bed, sound asleep. He snored. She smiled at that. For some reason it made him a little more human to her. She turned over, and prayed that things would work out, and drifted off to sleep once again.
Chapter Four
The scent of vanilla teased at his nose as he rolled over. Soft hair greeted his hands when he reached out. Just what he needed, he decided as he rolled closer to the warm body, only to find that something was in the way. Morgan cursed and kicked off the covers he’d pulled over himself against the damp chill in the room sometime during the night. The soft curves of the woman called to him.
He curled around the tiny body and buried his nose in the nape of her neck. She smelled like home to him. He hadn’t let himself think of that in a long time, not since it had happened.
Morgan had been in the army, off on a mission, when word reached him that his wife and unborn child had been killed in a car wreck several days before. By the time they could get him home, they’d already had the funeral, and Morgan was left with only an empty house and a grave site to visit. It wasn’t something he thought he would ever get over. Time had dulled some of the pain, enough that he’d finally pulled himself out of the self-inflicted drunk stupor he’d lived in for nearly a year.
He shifted and flung one leg over the legs of the woman in his arms and nuzzled her neck. She moaned in her sleep. He nipped at her earlobe. When she didn’t say anything, he did it again and was rewarded with a scrunched-up neck and another moan. He sucked the lobe into his mouth and ran a hand around to her waist. She was a tiny thing with lush curves. He could appreciate that in a woman. He didn’t like skin-and-bone rail-thin women. A man could bruise himself on a bone if he weren’t careful.
He rolled over on top of her and kissed a line from her ear to her chin and down the other side of her mouth. She squirmed in his arms, but still didn’t say anything. Morgan kissed each of her closed eyelids, then gently licked along the seam of her mouth with his tongue. She rewarded him by opening hers to him. He didn’t waste time, but took possession of it and soon had her pushing against him with her pelvis, the age-old sign of sexual need. She was with him.
He’d promised himself he wouldn’t do this. When he’d checked her ID in her bag, it looked legit and did say she was twenty-eight years old. She didn’t look a day over seventeen, though. He wasn’t into virginal teenagers. Something about her called to him. It was why he hadn’t been able to tell her no on the ride, and why he hadn’t left her there at the motel and risked his life to ride off in the rain without her.
Morgan knew it was more than sex. Sex he could get anywhere. He’d never had to beg or buy, but there was something different about Amanda. He wanted to know what it was before they parted ways. She’d brought out feelings in him he hadn’t thought he’d ever have again.
Her tongue sparred with his as he reached beneath her shirt to palm a silk-covered breast. The shirt was in his way. He leaned back and began rolling it over her head. She didn’t protest, and even raised her arms for him to remove it, but when he started to unhook her bra, she grabbed his wrists. He stilled.
“Are you awake?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She unhooked the clasp for him and let him finish undressing her. Her nipples were a deep, dusky pink and large. He groaned and latched on to one of them with his mouth. She moaned and pushed her breast closer to him. He sucked and nipped at it while plucking at the other one with his fingers. She was so sensitive to his mouth. When he started to pull away she tried to hold his head there. He grinned.
“Easy, baby. I’m going to make you feel so good.” Morgan inched his way down her body, kissing here and nipping there.
He reached the junction between her legs and slowly slipped her panties down and off her feet. He spread her legs apart and blew across her bare mound. She shivered, then whimpered. Trembling legs wrapped around his back, drawing him closer to her hot center. Her scent called to him. She smelled hot and spicy.
Morgan spread her pussy lips and grinned at where her clit peeked from beneath its hood. He licked from her hot cunt to her clit, but didn’t touch the little button. She tried following his tongue by moving her hips, but he put his hand on her pelvis and pressed down to keep her still. He would control this. She would come when he got ready for her to. Right now, Morgan was having too much fun teasing her.
“Please,” she whimpered.
“Not yet.”
He tongued her pussy over and over again until she was trying to pump her hips. He grinned and delved deep within her core with one finger. Then he added another one and searched for her G-spot. When he located it, he lightly grazed it over and over until she was keening with need.
* * * *
Amanda shook her head from side to side trying to deal with the barrage of sensations Morgan was inciting inside of her. Never before had she felt so turned on and wild with need. His hands, his mouth elicited these feelings, and she didn’t know what to do or how to handle them. It was all too much.
When he latched on to her clit with his teeth and tongued it while at the same time brushing that spot deep inside of her, Amanda exploded. She screamed, turning her head into the pillow to muffle as much of it as possible. Sensations careened around inside of her, driving her wild.
As the feelings began to slow down, Morgan rose over her and positioned his hard cock at her entrance. He seemed to be waiting on her to say something. She had no words. All she could do was push upward against his straining erection. He took it for the invitation it was and plunged deep inside of her. Again she screamed, grabbing for the pillow as if to ground her. He was huge, but somehow he managed to lodge all of his massive girth inside of her. She could feel every inch of his cock, every vein and bump.
Morgan plunged into her over and over. He fucked her hard and deep, as if needing to reach every part of her. She met him halfway with each thrust. Her hips pistoned with her need. She felt it the minute he climaxed. His seed poured into her body. He hadn’t used a condom. She was too far gone now to do more than groan.
When he collapsed on top of her, she moaned and pushed at him. She couldn’t breathe with him covering her like that. He grunted and moved over. Then he froze.
“Fuck!”
“What?” she asked between pants.
“I didn’t use a damn condom.” He rolled off her and stood up.
“It’s okay, I’m covered. I’m safe,” she told him.
He didn’t say anything. Instead he disappeared into the bathroom, then returned with a bath cloth. Despite her trying to stop him, he cleaned her up and then rinsed out the cloth while she got up and dressed in her sleep shirt and panties. There was no need, as far as she was concerned, to wear all of her clothes. They’d had sex now. You couldn’t get any more intimate that that, she didn’t think.
“I’m safe. I always use a condom—till now.” Morgan ran a hand through his mussed hair. “You’re on the Pill?”
“Um, no.” She drew in a deep breath, then let it out. “I’m already pregnant.”
* * * *
“You’re what?” Morgan yelled.
“I’m pregnant.” She took a step back toward the bathroom.
“You didn’t think it was a good idea to mention this earlier?” He grabbed his jeans and pulled them on.
“It didn’t really come up,” she said.
Morgan shoved his feet into his boots. He looked back over his shoulder and noticed she was by the bathroom now. He was scaring her. Now he was scaring her. He should never have given her
a ride to begin with. Fuck! He’d fucked a pregnant woman.
“Yeah, well, it has now.”
“It shouldn’t matter to you one way or another,” she said. “Well, other than the fact that you can’t get me any more pregnant than I already am.”
Morgan cursed and shoved his hands onto his hips. He was so angry he couldn’t think straight. Funny thing, though, was that he was angry at himself, not at her. He looked for his shirt and, once he found it, pulled it over his head. He needed some air. She was probably running away from the father of the baby. But why?
He walked over to the door and unlocked it. When he opened the door, the wind blew damp air into the room. He didn’t bother looking back at Amanda. Instead, he closed the door behind him and went to check on the bike. The rain had stopped, though it was still windy. He checked his watch. It was only five in the morning, another hour till dawn. He decided to take a ride to clear his head.
He didn’t bother with a helmet since he’d left it in the room. He wasn’t going to leave her there, as much as he wanted to. He’d made the decision to take her wherever she needed to go, and he would still do it, but he needed some answers from her. Whether she told him the truth or not would be up to her.
After nearly fifteen minutes of riding, he could finally breathe again. Knowing she was pregnant hadn’t dampened his attraction to her. If anything, it had made it worse. It was the memories of his wife and their child that had stolen his breath. Flashes of how she’d looked when she first started showing kept flashing before his eyes. He could remember how excited she was. She had wanted to start decorating the nursery the next day. They’d fought over that. He had wanted to wait for a couple of months.
Somehow he couldn’t work up guilt over that anymore. So many of his feelings concerning his wife and child’s death had grown dull now. At the time it hadn’t mattered that they had been having trouble. They could have worked things out, given time. Only they hadn’t been given any time. Now all he felt was empty when he thought about them.
