by Lily LaVae
9
Two drinks in and she felt her tongue loosen. As he poured her a third, she knew she was lost.
“You said you haven’t talked to your brother in a year. Does he even know where you are? Do your parents? You had a great family. I don’t understand why they would shut you out.” Morgan sat the glass tumbler in front of her. It was dark and more than half full of ice. The glass slid slightly across the table on top of the condensation.
She would normally have told anyone who asked her about her brother to kiss off, but this was Morgan and the rum made her feel warm and far too loose-lipped for her own good. “He didn’t think I’d make a good mother. He agreed with my fiancé. At least, he was my fiancé at the time.” She picked up the glass and slammed half of it, needing to give her mouth something to do besides talk. It burned all the way down. She needed that burn. Needed the bit of ache it caused. She deserved to hurt. It had to be her fault her little man died. There was no one else to blame.
Morgan sat back, all muscles and smugness, sipping his drink. She’d lost count if he’d had more than her or not. “Why should it matter if you were a good mother or not? You don’t have a child and he wouldn’t be the father. If your fiancé was such a jerk, it’s good you let him go.”
She hadn’t admitted to another living soul she’d lost the baby. Her parents, brother, and Liam had known, but she ran the moment she was discharged from the hospital. Morgan had no idea she was a mother in her heart, and always would be.
She stood, pacing in the small space and threw back the rest of the drink, pounding the glass on the bar on her way by. “It mattered because I was in labor when he left me. It matters because Jordan took his side, not mine. It matters because…” She couldn’t say the rest, hadn’t even been able to tell her therapist and even under the freeing alcohol, she couldn’t say it out loud. Her son…
Morgan was to her in a moment and grasped her shoulders, giving her a little shake. “Your ass of a fiancé left you when you were in labor?” He stared down at her, his dark eyes boring into hers. “Tell me I heard you wrong. Because right now, I want to kill him.”
She was so tempted to tell him everything, to finally give up what she’d been holding inside for so long. She shook her head. It was all she could do. Her throat burned more from the tears than the rum.
He pulled her close, gently, and she was surrounded by muscled arms and a solid comforting chest. Safe, protected. In his arms, nothing could reach her. She didn’t have to lash out to keep people away. She didn’t have to curse and throw things. She could just be a wounded bear and…heal. She wrapped herself around him and clung to the back of his shirt, the tears coming faster than she’d ever thought they could. A whole year’s worth.
“Aw, baby. Don’t cry,” he mumbled into the top of her head. “Maybe Jordan had his reasons. I don’t know what they could be, I wasn’t there, but neither Jordan or that ass are worth your tears.”
Morgan had disappeared shortly after graduation and no one had heard from him or Kent again. After a while, she’d forgotten them. Jordan had gotten a job but had avoided marriage and she’d found Liam, who broke her heart. When she’d felt the most alone, she decided to run. Dallas was as good a place as any to disappear and that’s just what she’d done.
“I can’t go back and I can’t face them. I ran. They were so cruel.” An unwed mother wasn’t something her parents could tell the neighbors about. She’d been engaged, but since the “damage” had been done before the rings were exchanged, no one had wished her well or offered to help. No one even seemed to notice when her time came. She doubted they even noticed she was gone.
“I can’t make you do anything, but… If I go back and face my past, will you come with me and face yours?” The deep furrows on his brow told a tale of hardship that might be even deeper than her own. Making that bargain was killing him, and why do it? She was no one to him.
“Why? Maybe I would understand if I was your wife, but I’m not. I’m just your assistant and one you don’t even like all that much. Kent told me you were thinking of firing me already.”
Morgan tensed his thick arms and he squeezed her tighter. “Not true. Don’t believe everything he tells you. I was worried about you and the things your presence makes me think about, but I never said I would get rid of you.”
She pulled back to see his face better and before she could prepare, his lips were over hers. His heat was more than she could take, and every wall melted down around her. There was no reason to stop him. She wanted what he offered. She wanted his protection, his attention, his comfort… his body.
His hair was softer than she thought it would be and she ran her fingers through it, in it, holding close to him. She needed his kiss, his touch. As he ran his hands up and down her back, every inch of her skin came alive and she wanted his hands on her—not just her clothes. He growled as she pulled away from him, but only long enough to whip her shirt off. He gave her a cocky smile and took his off with one arm, exposing all those tats she’d wondered about.
He ran his hands up her sides, his thumbs testing the weight of her breasts. “I’m suddenly very glad that there isn’t anything about you that reminds me of the child I once knew.” His voice was rough, like it probably was after a concert. She didn’t even trust her own.
He was nothing like the boy she’d known, either. Unrecognizable. She pushed up onto her toes and took his mouth again, needing to feel in control of something. He held her tight his hands slowly gliding up her body and to her face. He held her there until he was done tasting her mouth, the onslaught of his kiss like a verse building toward the chorus.
He took his tantalizing lips from hers making his way down her jaw. “We’re too exposed here in the front.” She felt light-headed as he made it to her neck. “Let me take you back.”
This was her last chance to say no, but she didn’t want to. For the first time since Liam, she wanted—more than anything—the attention of a man. This man. She nodded and in a moment, she was lifted in his arms. He maneuvered them both through the room, down the narrow hall and into his bedroom.
He gently let her down and after she found her footing his thumbs slid into the waistband of her jeans. She unbuckled his belt—that was as much permission as she could give with her mouth busy on his. Her skin was hot, even with the windows of the bus open. The breath of air over her thighs as he slid her jeans over her ass did little to quell the building heat inside her.
He kissed her throat and his hair tickled her ear, the tangy scent of his skin became part of her.
“This is your last chance to stop me. You put that clause in the contract, but if you willingly break it…” He nipped her again.
A little pleasure, a little pain, but she couldn’t stop now. “No.”
He pressed his lips to her shoulder. “No?”
“No, don’t stop.” She could hardly breathe and hoped he heard her.
He found her mouth once again and as he kissed her, led them both to the bed. She felt him, hard against her stomach and she couldn’t recall if she’d removed his jeans or if he had. It didn’t really matter.
When the back of her knees hit the bed, she sat and his bulge was right in front of her. She reached for his waistband to relieve him of his last stitch of clothing and he stepped back, out of her reach.
“Not yet. You’ve gotten to hear me sing. Now, I get to hear you.”
She couldn’t sing a note and didn’t understand, but followed his lead as he slid her to the head of the bed. With a deft motion, he unfastened her bra with one hand. It was on the floor and forgotten moments later.
“I don’t sing, Morgan.” Hell, she could barely breathe.
He chuckled. “You will.” His gaze started at her lips. “When I tease you there, it will start a quiet, soft moaning.”
She bit her lip, already feeling heat and need pooling low in her belly.
His gaze slid down to her breasts and under his intense stare, her nipples hardened. S
he could imagine what he planned to do to them and a little gasp escaped her.
“When I make it to there, you’ll get a little louder. Perhaps even say my name.”
He leaned back and tilted his head as he traced one finger down to her navel. “About here, your voice will quiver better than any operatic soprano.”
She was already quivering, and he hadn’t even done anything yet but look at her. His finger made a leisurely stroll lower and he cupped her, his thumb tracing the edge of her panties. “By the time I’ve made it all the way down to here, you’ll sing a G better than I ever could.”
It was too much, she leaned forward and gripped his shoulders. “Less teasing, more doing,” she growled as she took his lips. She could feel his laugh as his warm hands slid up her back and into her hair, cradling her back into the pillow. The weight of them, as he guided her, was exhilarating. She’d never been held down before—or even really held.
He slid on top of her and—just as he’d threatened—he started at her mouth, exciting her until she couldn’t breathe. Her panted breaths came more like little moans and his lips conquered her lower and lower still until she thrashed on the bed, her only thought, her need and how he was the only one who could satisfy it.
“Morgan…”
He laughed. “I told you. Are you ready to sing?” He anchored himself on either side of her shoulders and stared down at her, his body poised to take her.
She gripped his hips and freed him slowly. He finished the job and she tried to pull him close, to make him do what she wanted, what she needed, but he wouldn’t budge.
“I won’t take you until you tell me to,” How hard his voice sounded above her, his restraint was amazing.
“Now.” Was all she could manage.
He arched and the ache built inside her. It was like a sunrise. Once started, it could not stop. She kissed his neck as he moved inside her and, to her wonder, she seemed to be affecting him as much as he was her. His breath came in bursts and his face tensed and relaxed as his own climax built. He, the man she’d never expected to please, was turned on by her. She raked her nails down his back and he thrust deeply in her as he hollered.
“So…which one of us was supposed to sing?” She smirked at him, and he laughed, until she realized he wasn’t finished with her yet. Liam had never bothered. Once he’d climaxed, he’d always considered the deed done. Morgan’s thumb swirled around her apex, gently stirring her back toward the edge, building faster. He nipped at her breast and the tension built between her legs.
She’d never had a full orgasm before. The building heat and desire was terrifying and glorious all at once. He pushed her closer to the edge as he massaged, and nipped, kissing the tender flesh just after until she was begging him to do it again. He finally coaxed her enough to let go of her fear and her reserve. When she did, the stars in the heavens burst.
“You called my name just now. Do you remember doing it?” He laughed as he lowered himself next to her, brushing her short hair out of her face.
She couldn’t recall doing that or much of anything else, just the glorious feeling of relaxation. Sex had always left her full of stress until now.
“I don’t. So, that’s what it’s like.” She sighed.
“Wait…” He pushed himself up on his elbow to glance down at her. “What do you mean?”
“Just because I wasn’t a virgin, doesn’t mean there are certain things that have never happened for me.” Why did he have to look at her like that, like she was some kind of oddity?
Morgan shook his head and traced her jaw. “I’m not what you’d call the tender sort. I’m just not that kind of guy, but it makes me furious that man could get you pregnant, tear apart your self-worth, leave you, and after all that taking…couldn’t even give you an orgasm? I guess I’m glad I got to be your first in some way.”
She tried to roll over to get off the bed and get away from him. Her past wasn’t going to help, and digging that deep would only make her think of all the things she hated. How could Morgan bring this up now and ruin what she’d just had, what they’d just had. Her past was something she would never be ready to share. Not with Mr. Orgasm or anyone else.
He blocked her from leaving, then slid his hand up her side, cupping her chin and turning her face toward him. “That wasn’t meant to scare you away. It’s never mattered to me before. Women just didn’t matter. There were too many options and I always leave. You’re different. I don’t know why, or how, but you’re different. I want you—not just the sex. I want you, here, in my life.”
He only thought so because she was there and available. She wasn’t leaving, so she wasn’t like any of his other PAs. He’d made sure of that with his contract. He’d turn on her soon enough, though. Wasn’t that log book the other assistant left behind proof enough of that?
“You only say that because you’re stuck with me for a year. Your brain needs to figure out some way to justify why you should feel anything.”
He was hovering over her in a second, his power a visible thing in his taut muscles. “I don’t just say shit. I don’t just feel shit.” His mouth came down and overpowered her. He drew her hands above her head and held them captive with one of his as he took some of his weight off her with the other.
She wanted to believe him, to believe she was somehow special to someone, but there was nothing about her that would make her believe Morgan, the star, would ever see anything in her.
When he rose above her, his eyes were full of something she couldn’t name. It was a strong passion, but more than that. The fact that she couldn’t name it frightened her. “We’ll see how you feel at the end of the year.” She gulped back tears, because he’d made her feel more in the last hour than she’d ever felt before, and a year didn’t seem long enough.
10
They’d been on the road for a week and she’d managed to avoid Morgan as much as she could and still be a good assistant. Her mother had always told her business and pleasure don’t mix and she had to believe that was true. Morgan didn’t seem to mind that she’d left him alone and stayed in her own bunk at night. He certainly hadn’t tried to persuade her back to his.
She glanced out the window of the bus and the all too familiar sights of Nashville flew by. Home. She shivered. Morgan was back in his room with the door closed and she wouldn’t bother him. The driver pulled off the freeway and after a few minutes they were in a residential area. She didn’t recognize it. It wasn’t anywhere near where she’d grown up, but it was still too close to home.
They’d had to leave her car behind and now that the boredom of being on the road had set in, especially because she was keeping her distance from Morgan, she missed the freedom of just jumping in her own car and driving, anywhere but on that bus.
Morgan came out of his room and stretched. She glanced away. His sculpted tee reminded her of places she’d kissed. Don’t mix business with pleasure…
“You going to ignore me for a year?” He sat down next to her.
Too close. His scent wrapped around her, teasing her. He’d managed to wash up and he smelled so good she wanted to bury her face in his neck. “I’m not ignoring you, just doing my job.”
“That’s the problem. You’re so busy doing your job and going to bed early—like the minute I come out of my room—that I haven’t seen you all week.”
It wasn’t like he missed her, not really. She was just an assistant. She’d read through the log book again, just to remind herself exactly why she couldn’t be near him anymore, and maybe to remind herself just how good it had been. He was right, the log book didn’t do it justice.
“I’ve been right here.” She opened the book and slipped the itinerary for his day from it and handed it to him. “Do you need me to do anything special while the team sets up today?”
He stared at her, and that strange emotion she couldn’t name was there again. “No.” He sighed, his beautiful strong mouth was almost too much to bear. “Just keep everyone away from me
today. I’m in no mood to talk to anyone.”
That was strange. He’d seemed more than willing to talk to her. Morgan went up front with the driver as they pulled into a huge parking lot, the arena was just ahead. All the buses and the vehicles with trailers pulled into the parking lot so they could get set up. The drivers had done it so many times before. They knew where they needed to park so the process would be easier, but it was still confusing to Eloise.
When they stopped, Morgan left the trailer and since he didn’t ask her to come with, she assumed he didn’t want or need her. Perhaps his sour face would keep away the people he didn’t want to speak to.
The door opened a few minutes later and Kent came in with a tall redhead. “Eloise, this is Amanda. I arranged to meet her here and she’ll be riding along the rest of this tour.”
Amanda glanced back at him, her smug smile immediately unlikable. “Maybe. We’ll see what Morgan says.” She crossed her arms. “So, are you his new assistant?”
Kent kissed Amanda’s neck and mumbled that he needed to go help unload. Though she could hold her own, she hated the idea of being alone with Amanda and she didn’t even know why.
“You realize you won’t last, right?” She raised her eyebrows. “He goes through assistants faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. No one can please him. Not me and certainly not you.” She gave Eloise the once-over and she wished she’d put something on other than her holey jeans and tank top.
“I have a contract. I won’t leave for one year, and he won’t fire me.”
Amanda laughed, but it was contrived. “You think that’s going to matter? Let me guess. He already slept with you and within two days he quit talking to you. When he does talk to you, he’s moody.”
She’d hit Morgan dead on. It wasn’t just that she was avoiding him. He’d avoided her, too.
“There’s no room in that dead heart to keep anyone around that long. His bandmates are all that matter. They are like family. Everyone else, dispensable.”
