Morgan's Hunter

by Cate Beauman

  She grinned, pressing her finger into the cleft of his chin. “I see.”

  What started in fun ended with Morgan lying under him, trembling and gasping for air. “You win. You’re the reigning champion of amazing sex moves.”

  Hunter smiled. “Just remember that.”

  She lay pressed against him until they slept. They woke throughout the night, coming together over and over. The pearly light of dawn crept through the corner of the drawn drapes before fatigue took them under, clinging.

  CHAPTER 29

  MORGAN ROLLED OVER WHEN HUNTER swore.

  “Shit, Morgan, get up. We slept in.”

  She rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”

  “Eleven-thirty.”

  “What?” She shot up to sitting. “I’ve never slept this late—ever.”

  Hunter, sleepy-eyed and smiling, skimmed his fingers down her arm. “If you don’t go to bed until sunrise, you sleep in. That’s how it works.”

  “Ah, I see. Well, it sounds like you’ve had a lot of practice staying up ‘til dawn.” She tried playing things light as she pulled the covers back, but his cocky comment reminded her she was nothing special in the eyes of Hunter Phillips. There had been women before her; there would be plenty after.

  Morgan stood and winced, her well-used muscles protesting.

  “Hey, wait a minute.” Hunter snagged her arm, pulled her back down. “I didn’t mean anything by that.”

  Let it go, Morgan. Just get in the shower and let it go. “Yeah, I know.” She met his gaze before staring down at wrinkled sheets.

  “Hey.” His thumb skimmed her jaw, rested under her chin, lifting her face until their eyes met again. “I’ve been up until dawn a few times before, but it’s never been like this. It’s never meant anything. I-I care about you, Morgan. You mean something to me. You mean a lot.”

  And that was the problem. She loved and he cared. Her stomach clenched, fisting with pain. “I know.” Because she knew he gave her all he could, she nodded, brushed her hand against his cheek, gave him a quick kiss. “This surprised both of us. I don’t think either of us planned on being here.”

  “No, I certainly didn’t.” He caught her hand as it fell from his face, kissed her fingers before he let her go.

  His tender gestures confused as much as they hurt. Unable to take anymore, she stood again. “I need to clean up. We’re running out of time.”

  Their eyes met as her words hit home. Morgan walked to the bathroom, turned on the shower. As steam plumed above the curtain she stepped in. Warm water sluiced over her hair, down her body.

  Not wasting any time, she dumped the sample bottle of shampoo and conditioner-in-one on her head, lathering the shampoo through her hair. Her muscles ached with every movement after hours of endless loving.

  She’d never spent a night like that—so wrapped up in another. When he’d pulled her under him time and time again, she’d given him everything she had. She’d savored every brush of his body, every joining of lips, committing them to memory, fearful that each touch might be the last.

  She washed the suds from her hair, wondering how it was possible for Hunter to feel so little when they brought each other such heat.

  Physically, they were perfectly matched. Each time they’d been together, she’d been right there with him—thrust for thrust, beat for beat. Sexually, she had the power to bring him to his knees, and he was the only man who’d ever sent her over the edge with little more than a simmering look. No, sex definitely wasn’t their problem. It was emotion that set them so far apart. She loved in a way she never would again, and he cared.

  In a matter of hours, Hunter would head back to Los Angeles and carry on as if nothing ever happened. Perhaps he’d give her a call, pass the time with an e-mail or two, but before long even that would fade into nothing.

  Teetering on the cliff of despair, Morgan focused on the now. She unwrapped a small cake of soap, rubbed the bar over her skin. Tiny bubbles coursed down her body. She turned into the spray, washing the suds away.

  Hunter pulled the shower curtain open and she jumped, her hand flying to her heart. “Damn it, Hunter.”

  Without apology, he stepped in behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist. His lips, slippery from the water, moved along her neck. He spoke next to her ear. “One more time. I need to be with you one more time.”

  Her heart raced as his muscled chest pressed against her back. Because this truly would be the last time, she gave into her need and his. Morgan turned her head, and he captured her mouth.

  Hunter took the soap, rubbed it over her stomach, tracing patterns against her skin, making her quiver. Her lips never left his as his hands journeyed up, finding her breasts, making her nipples sensitive and slippery.

  Sighing, she closed her eyes, enjoying the pulsing tug growing strong within her core. Stretching, she locked her arms around his neck, playing with his hair.

  “Fast or slow?” he asked. His fingers skimmed her, moving in slow, steady circles until her legs trembled, threatening to buckle. Her hips moved in rhythm, urging him on as her ass rubbed against him, primed and ready.

  Hunter nibbled her ear, each steady breath coming faster. “Answer me: fast or slow?”

  She rested her head against his chest. “I can’t think.” She grabbed hold of any thought she could, never wanting the moment to end. “Slow. Go slow.”

  His fingers worked her, pressing. The tug, the ache built until her arms vised around his neck, until her knees gave out. “I’m going… I’m going to… Oh, my God.” He entered her, thrusting hard, thrusting deep as the orgasm shattered her.

  He moved, unhurried, as water pelted her stomach. He played with her breasts, sending her to a frenzied level she’d never experienced.

  Hunter broke contact, turned her, pushed himself deep again before she had the chance to gasp. He hoisted her, pressing her back to the wall. She wrapped her legs tight, built again, sure she couldn’t take anymore.

  Her fingers kneaded his shoulders as her whimpering moans built to long loud cries. She shut her eyes as the trembling took over, her head going limp against the wall, certain she’d die from the overload of pleasure.

  Hunter’s grip tightened on her ass as his breath heaved. “Go over, Morgan. Go.”

  With a violent pump he took her mouth, swallowing her screams as she orgasmed with such intensity she poured around him. He grunted, stiffening as she did, pressing her solidly to the wall with every powerful thrust.

  Spent and shuddering, she held on, laying her head on his shoulder. Their gasps mingled as water, now cold, splashed against them.

  She clung to him and he to her as Morgan lifted her head, staring into his eyes. She took his mouth, kissing him a silent goodbye. Tongues met as the tender moment stretched.

  Morgan shivered and Hunter turned off the faucet with a snap. He brushed her lips once more, her forehead. “They’ll be here soon, Morgan. It’s time to get ready.”

  There was no other choice. “Okay.”

  With that, he set her down, held her hand, lingering, before he left her in the bathroom.

  Comfortable in blue jeans and a white t-shirt, Hunter checked his watch. Forty-five minutes ‘til show time.

  His brow rose when Morgan stepped from the bathroom dressed identically in jeans and a short sleeved white v-neck. Her damp hair dripped, leaving wet patches at her shoulders, reminding him of the way she’d gone wild in his arms just minutes before—that hot body of hers bucking against him as she came, calling his name. How long would it be before she forgot? How long would she wait before she let someone else touch her the way she’d let him?

  His hand fisted at his side; he was making himself crazy. There wasn’t time for this now. He had two hours on the flight home and the rest of his life to torture himself with thoughts of Morgan and her lovers.

  When her gaze met his, he gestured to his clothes, then hers, and she smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Maybe I should chan
ge,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t bother. You look good. I look better, so just leave it alone.”

  Morgan chuckled as she walked to the bed. “That’s one of the things I like best about you, Hunter: your modesty.”

  He grinned, relieved when the sadness vanished from her eyes. He glanced at his watch again as Morgan took a pen and paper from her bag. “We have about forty minutes. We need to get things separated and organized.” He picked up Morgan’s pack, dumped the contents in the center of the mattress, did the same with his own.

  “What are you doing?”

  “This’ll go faster if we do it this way. We don’t have time for one of your tidy little checklists. I have some of your stuff. You have some of mine, so let’s sort it out.” He tossed her things to one side of the bed, his to the other.

  “Well, this is certainly one way to do it.” She followed his lead.

  The massive heap quickly became two separate piles. Hunter picked up a small box of tampons. “Um, I can’t remember, do these belong to you or me?”

  Morgan glanced up, snorted. “I’m pretty sure those are mine.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Grinning, Hunter tossed the package into her mountain of supplies. He grabbed the long-range radio next, cast it among her things. Snatching up the first aid kit next, his gaze returned to the radio.

  Morgan had attempted to contact the ranger’s station the night before Robert found them. By some ‘strange fluke’, Robert and his two bastard cop friends just happened to roam the trail he and Morgan would most likely take on their trek from the Slough River. The coincidence was even more amazing since he and Morgan weren’t due back for several days.

  Leaning across the bed, Hunter snagged the radio and sat down. He popped the back off. “Son of a bitch.” Among the soldering boards, wires, and batteries lay a tiny red rectangular box with an antenna on its top.

  Frowning, Morgan sat next to him. “What is it?”

  Hunter detached the wire, pulled the beacon from the radio. “This is how the asshole knew we found the mine. When you tried radioing in that night, this little beacon sent out our location.”

  Morgan’s gaze whipped up to his. “What? But it was only on for seconds.”

  Hunter examined the small tracking piece. “That’s all it would’ve taken.”

  “No. The beacon would’ve stopped transmitting when I turned it off.”

  “As soon as you turned the radio on, the signal was activated, telling him where we were, which wasn’t anywhere near where we said we would be.”

  “My God, you’re absolutely right.” She stood, turned away. “I can’t believe this. The last four days have been my fault. If I hadn’t turned on the radio, they never would’ve found out.” She paced in quick, jerky movements. “I’m such a fool. I put you and my parents in danger; maybe even your friend and her little girl.”

  Hunter stood in her path, unable to stand the anguish in her voice, in her eyes. “Stop it.”

  “No. It’s the truth. I’m so sick inside. Robert almost shot you. My parents are surrounded by security guards.” Tears filled her eyes as she turned away again.

  Hunter yanked her around. “I said stop. If you want to take the blame, you’ll have to share. If I told you everything straight up, you wouldn’t’ve tried to radio in. We both made decisions we thought best at the time. We can’t change that. It’s over now. It doesn’t matter anymore. Let’s pack up.” He checked his watch. “We have fifteen minutes.”

  Morgan stared, battling back tears.

  “I said it’s not your fault.”

  “I heard you.”

  “Do more than hear me—listen. It’s not your fault.” He took her hand, squeezed. “Now pack.”

  She nodded, went back to sorting.

  Ten minutes later, Hunter zipped his pack, resting it against the wall by the door. With five minutes to departure, he gave a final check of the area through the curtain and stepped to the door.

  “Wait.”

  Hunter turned.

  “Um, all of this will be over soon, so I want to thank you—for everything. I know it’s not enough, not nearly enough, but I really need to say it.” She nibbled her lip, swiped a strand of hair behind her ear.

  He wanted to reach out, to pull her against him, but it was time to take a step back. “It’s not necessary, but you’re welcome. If you’re trying to say goodbye, let’s wait. I’m going to the airport with you. We’ll say our goodbyes then.” He wasn’t looking forward to it, but he would worry about that later. Right now, he had a job to do.

  “Right. I’ll take a last look around, make sure we didn’t forget anything.”

  “Okay, fine.” Hunter opened the door a crack, peered out. Tourists swarmed the sidewalks yards away. He couldn’t do much until his team got there. Closing the door, he relocked it.

  Risks were minimal to Morgan at this point, but he would feel better when he watched her plane depart. “We have about two minutes, Morgan. Be ready.”

  “I am. Just let me double-check the bathroom.”

  She disappeared around the corner as he scanned the bedroom. The o-ring on the side table caught his attention. He moved to grab it, hesitating.

  Morgan popped back into the room. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” When she turned toward her pack, Hunter picked up the tarnished piece of metal, shoved it in his pocket. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s finish this.”

  Shouldering his pack, Hunter peered from the window. “As soon as we see the detail, I’ll step out, make sure everything’s secure. When I tell you to, move forward. I’ll be at your side at all times until we get to the vehicle door. Once you’re in, stay down. Okay, here they come.”

  Four dark green Lincoln Navigators pulled up in front of the room. Hunter opened the door wide enough to throw a hand signal to the men on his team. The back door of the second Navigator opened immediately from the inside. “Move forward,” he told Morgan.

  He grabbed her to his side, shielding her as he closed the motel door behind them. He whisked her into the SUV while speaking to Baker, moving her so she lay on the floor. Hunter lay on the seat over her until they got up to speed.

  As the team drove away, the phone in the motel room began to ring.

  Hunter glanced up and out the window. Pine trees flashed by at breakneck speeds. He sat up, speaking to Baker as they moved west on Grand Loop Road. “Anything interesting on the drive here?”

  Baker glanced in the rearview mirror. “Not so far.”

  “Good, let’s hope it stays that way.” Morgan stared up at him. “You can get in your seat.” He held out his hand, helping her from the floor.

  “I was wondering how long I would have to stay down there.” She buckled in as Stanley popped up from the last row. “Oh, Daddy.” Morgan threw herself halfway over the seat, embracing him in a fierce hug. “I’m so happy to see you.” She kissed his cheek.

  Stanley eased her back, looked her over. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, smiling. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m good. Hunter took very good care of me.”

  Hunter smiled, feeling awkward when Stanley met his gaze. Not even an hour before, he’d had his daughter naked and pinned against the wall of the shower.

  Stanley gave him a firm nod. “Hunter, my boy, I can’t thank you enough for keeping my Peanut safe. I’ve been worried sick, but I see she’s in one piece.” He and Morgan grinned identical grins as Stanley hugged her close again.

  Morgan turned her attention to Hunter, eyes bright, extending the smile to him. His reply to Stanley withered in his throat, his stomach clenching in reflex. God, she was stunning, absolutely breathtaking. Without thinking, he brushed his thumb over her cheek, needing to feel her skin against his.

  Morgan leaned into his touch, her smile fading, her green eyes staring into his.

  Stanley’s cell phone rang, jolting Hunter back. He dropped his hand, catching the look that passed between Stanley and his daughter. Stanley’s frown dis
appeared with a quick shake of Morgan’s head.

  Hunter turned, scanning the trees again. What the hell was he doing? Had he lost his mind? The two of them weren’t alone anymore.

  Stanley pressed talk on the third ring. “Hello? Hello? Nothing but static. I haven’t had a signal since Bozeman. The service here is terrible.” He pushed end.

  “We’re in the middle of nowhere, Dad. You’ll be up and running in no time.”

  The phone rang again. “Hello? Hello?” Stanley cursed, ended the call.

  “Dad, why don’t you just turn it off for now?”

  Hunter turned toward Morgan and her father. She rolled her eyes, smiled. He smiled back.

  “Maybe I can receive a text. There’s nothing more frustrating than knowing someone’s trying to get a-hold of you.” The phone beeped. “Nothing. Not a damn thing.”

  Morgan pulled the phone from Stanley’s hand. “I know you can’t live without it, but why don’t I hold this for you?” She pressed another button, powering down the phone, tossed it in her pack. “So, how’s Mom? Is she okay?”

  Hunter bit his cheek, holding back a grin. Stanley stared at the pack, blinking, sputtering protests.

  Morgan took her father’s hand. “Dad, how’s Mom?”

  His gaze left the bag, met hers. “She’s been worried about you but she’s fine. Ethan contacted a security firm in D.C. They sent people right over. As soon as I can get a damn signal, we’ll call her and let her know we’re all fine.”

  “I can’t wait to talk to her.”

  Hunter checked his watch as the SUV merged on 89. “Any more news on the mine, Stanley?”

  “I spoke with the police just before we left Bozeman. The authorities found the mining operation late last night. From what I understand, they encountered a pretty heavy gunfight. One of the guards was shot and killed. The others were interrogated until they gave up names. Those names led to others, Dean’s included.”