"What the hell, Gleason?"
I gave him my most innocent look. "What?"
"You know what." Luke's gaze darted from me to Morgan then back again. Instead of the smart ass comment I was expecting, he just shook his head. "Whatever. Never mind."
"Yeah. That's what I thought."
Morgan's shoulders stiffened the tiniest bit under my hold so I leaned down and pressed a quick kiss against her cheek. Then I leaned even closer, making sure to keep my voice low. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah." She offered me a smile, one that left her face entirely too quickly. "What was all that about?"
"Nothing. Just Luke being a pain in the ass."
"Oh." She turned her head and went back to staring at the half-empty plate in front of her. We were in the bar side of the restaurant, surrounded by lots of dark wood and elegant lighting and more than a handful of patrons who looked a little put out by our presence. Instead of ordering individually, we'd asked for a ton of different appetizers and had simply passed them around until they disappeared before ordering more of the same.
Nothing like winning to work up an appetite.
Only Morgan didn't seem to have much of one. She'd only taken a few small samplings from three of the plates that had made the rounds, then sat there and mostly shoved them around with her fork instead of eating anything. I knew it was kind of late to be eating and that most normal people didn't eat as much as we could put down, especially after a game, but I had a feeling that wasn't the reason for Morgan's preoccupation.
The mental lights kicked on as soon as I thought the word and I wondered what had her so preoccupied. Now that I thought about it, I realized there was more to it than possibly feeling out place. If I'd been thinking clearly, I would have realized that earlier, especially since Morgan was the type of person who didn't seem to really care what other people thought of her.
I ran my fingers along the back of her neck, just under her hair, and bit back a smile when her eyes fluttered closed for just a second. Preoccupied or not, at least she was aware of me.
"Did you have fun tonight?"
A brief smile curled her mouth when she looked over at me. "Yeah. And it was even more fun seeing you score."
I bit back a laugh, remembering how Addy and Jacqui had teased her for not realizing it was me at first. Not that I blamed her, especially since she didn't know anything about the game. Besides, the goal had been a total fluke. I'd caught the puck on a crazy rebound off Luke's skate, realized nobody else was around, and took off with it. I'd fully expected for someone to stop me but nobody had. I think the other team's goalie was in a state of shock and he'd been slow to react, which is why my shot had gone in unanswered. There hadn't been any finesse to it—finesse wasn't my style, not even close—but I didn't care. It was a goal and that was all that mattered.
It also seemed to spark something in the rest of the team because we'd been unstoppable after that. The game had ended with a score of five-to-one, which had only added to our excitement in the locker room.
"Don't hold your breath waiting to see it again because it doesn't happen that often."
Another small smile curled Morgan's mouth but this one seemed a little sadder somehow. I started to ask her what was wrong but Tristan chose that moment to stand up and wave his arms for attention. He raised his bottle and pointed it in my direction with a shit-eating grin.
"To Gleason, for finally getting off his ass and doing something."
I rolled my eyes at the good-natured ribbing and drank along with everyone else. That was only the beginning, though, because Tristan decided to toast everyone who scored. Nathan, who had scored twice. Sean Worthington. Nicholas Shore. He even made a toast to Luke for making twenty-eight saves. Of course, he also managed to get a dig in for the one shot Luke had missed. The goalie took it in stride—right up until he grabbed a piece of shrimp and sent it flying in Tristan's direction.
"What the hell, Matthews? Don't you know how to take a compliment?" Tristan plucked the piece of shrimp from where it had landed on his suit jacket and popped it into his mouth. For a second, I thought he was going to grab his own ammunition and start a food fight. Sean must have thought the same thing because he grabbed Tristan's arm and pulled him back into his chair.
"Now isn't the place, Holland. Can't you at least pretend you have some decorum?"
"Ooo. Decorum. Listen to the fancy words coming from Mister Worthington." Tristan drew Sean's name out with just the right touch of nasal inflection, making us all laugh. We weren't really close, not yet at least, but Sean seemed like a good guy for the most part. Out of all of us, he looked least like a hockey player, with his neatly styled blonde hair and crisp way of talking. I didn't know much about his background—meaning I didn't know anything about his background—but I had a feeling he'd be pretty damn comfortable in Addy's world of old money. No idea why I thought that, it was just the impression I had.
Sean glanced at his watch—an expensive gold piece I was pretty sure was real—then shot a glare of impatience at Tristan. "Knock it off already."
"Why, when it's so easy to get a rise out of you?" Tristan threw back his head and laughed, the sound loud and short. Then he faced Sean with a grin. "Not."
"Mature, Holland. Real mature. How old did you say you were? Twelve?"
"Funny. And original, too. Chalk one up for Mister Worthington."
"At least I have enough sense not to mess with my teammate's sister." Sean threw the words out almost casually, the teasing no different from anything the rest of us had given Tristan over the last couple of months. Tristan's reaction was completely different, though. He stilled, like he'd been rendered immobile, and his brown eyes grew darker as he stared at Sean. Not just stared like he'd been blindsided by the comment, but stared like he was some predator ready to pounce.
I exchanged a quick glance with Nathan, my silent What the hell? question obvious. Nathan shook his head and pushed to his feet at the same time Luke did, the two of them ready to grab Tristan and stop him from doing something stupid if it came down to that.
Tristan shot them each a dangerous look then threw his napkin on the table and pushed to his feet. "Whatever. I'm out of here."
"Tris—"
"Forget it, man. I'm done for the night." He pulled some bills from his wallet, tossed them to the table, then spun around and took off.
Silence settled over us, thick and awkward. We all turned to Sean but he just sat there and shrugged. "Don't ask me. I have no idea."
I turned toward Morgan, not surprised to see the confusion on her face. I debated telling her the story—minus the colorful details—but she shook her head and pushed away from the table.
"I need to use the restroom."
"Oh. Okay." I twisted in my seat, looking for signs that would indicate where it was, but Addy beat me to it.
"I'll go with you."
"Might as well make it a threesome." Jacqui stood and followed them. I watched them disappear into the restaurant side then turned back to Nathan.
"Why do women do that?"
"Probably for the same reason men do."
"No, not that. I mean, go in groups. Is there some secret rule saying that women have to all go at the same time?"
"How the hell should I know?"
"You never asked Addy?"
"Come on, man. No way. There are just some things that don't come up in conversation. That's one of them."
"It's so they can chat and compare notes."
Everyone turned and stared at Luke. He shifted in the chair, obviously uncomfortable with the sudden attention he was getting.
"How would you know?"
Luke raised his bottle to his mouth and took a long swallow then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I don't know. I just do."
"I doubt that's what they're doing."
"They could be."
"Or they could just be going together for safety reasons or something."
Luke glanced around the la
rge room. "Safety? Here? I don't think so."
"Maybe it's just in their DNA. You know, like they're wired to always go in groups." Nicholas brushed off our curious stares with a quick wave. "I have a sister. Trust me, women have some wacky DNA wired into their systems."
"Damn, Shore. I hope you're never stupid enough to say that in front of a woman. You're liable to get slapped for being so stupid."
"It's not stupid, it's an observation."
"Yeah, well. I, for one, am glad their DNA is wired differently. Life would be pretty damn boring if they weren't."
I was ready to tell Luke and Nicholas both that they should probably quit while they were ahead but was stopped when a strong hand clamped down on my shoulder. I jumped at the unexpected contact then frowned when I realized the hand belonged to Jacqui.
"Time for you to leave, hockey boy."
"Leave? But Morgan—"
"Is outside in the entryway with Addy waiting for you."
My confusion quickly morphed to concern as I pushed to my feet. "Is she okay? She's not sick or anything—"
"No, she's fine. At least, not sick. But the girl looks like she's seen a ghost."
"What?"
"Don't ask me, cher. We were coming back from the ladies' room when she stumbled then suddenly veered toward the exit. She sent me in here to get you."
I didn't bother to ask any more questions—I couldn't, not with the sudden wave of dread washing over me. I tossed a few bills on the table then headed toward the entryway, Jacqui right behind me.
Morgan looked fine to me when we reached her. A little pale, maybe, but I thought that might just be a trick of the light. I caught her hand in mine and squeezed. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, just tired."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive." She smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes. I noticed the silent exchange of glances between Addy and Jacqui and started to ask what I was missing but Morgan tugged on my hand.
"I'm just tired. Really."
"Oh. Okay. If you're ready to leave—"
"You have an early day tomorrow."
Yeah, I did, but I had a feeling she was using that as an excuse more than anything else. I was ready to ask her again if anything was wrong and realized that she was watching something behind me. I glanced over my shoulder but didn't see anything. At least, nothing that should make Morgan so anxious to leave.
I had a clear view of the restaurant from where we were standing, not that there was much to see. Only a handful of tables were occupied, probably due to the late hour. Nobody was really paying any attention to us, although one older woman did keep looking our way. No idea why and I doubted she could be the reason for Morgan's sudden desire to leave, even if she did look like she had a mean side to her.
Morgan tugged on my hand again, the action a little more urgent this time. "Do you mind if we leave now?"
"No. Of course not." I smiled at Addy and Jacqui as Morgan practically pulled me through the door. I didn't question her sudden hurry again, just like I didn't question the expression of worry and concern I'd seen on Addy's face.
That didn't stop me from wondering what the hell I'd missed, though.
Chapter Twenty-One
Dylan
I closed and locked the apartment door then reached up to undo my tie. The move was automatic, born out of habit. Wearing a suit didn't bother me and there were times when, if I was forced to admit it, I actually enjoyed it. I couldn't say the same about the tie. No idea why, since they went hand-in-hand.
I pulled the silk tie loose and tossed it on the island counter along with my keys then looked at Morgan. "Are you sure everything's okay?"
"Yes, fine." She spun toward me, a small smile teasing the corners of her mouth. It was a real smile this time, one that danced and flashed in her eyes as she watched me undo the buttons of my dress shirt. My fingers fumbled on the fourth one when she reached out and took over the job. I didn't miss the sudden heat that simmered in her green eyes, or the hungry way she looked at me. My reaction was instantaneous, the need exploding through me with a strength I'd never felt before. I had no idea what it was about Morgan that made me react the way I did but I didn't question it.
Hell, I was lucky my brain was functioning enough to remember to breathe. Even that was a struggle when she leaned up on her toes and pressed her mouth against the base of my throat.
My arms automatically went around her, pulling her body flush against mine. Her small whimper mixed with my lower growl when I caught her mouth with mine and kissed. Long and deep, like I'd never be able to get enough her.
For all I knew, I could spend a lifetime kissing this woman and it would never be enough.
Somewhere in the back of my mind was the realization that alarm bells should be going off. Should be, but weren't. I'd never used lifetime in the same sentence with woman before. In fact, I'd gone to great lengths to never use those two words in the same paragraph, let alone same sentence. That alone should be enough to create an entire symphony of alarm bells to be sounding but it didn't.
And I didn't care.
I also wondered—for maybe one-millionth of a second—if Morgan was trying to keep me from asking any more questions by kissing me. If she was, I was all for it. Questions could wait, especially when she pressed her body even closer and rocked her searching hips against me.
My cock was so hard it was actually painful. I swallowed back a groan and fought for control when all I wanted to do was throw Morgan to the floor and make her mine. Maybe that was a bit too primitive but it was exactly how I felt and I deliberately put some space between us before I did exactly that.
At least, I tried to. Morgan wasn't having any of it because she moved with me, our bodies still pressed together like we'd been surgically attached. I palmed her face with my hands and tilted her head back then deepened the kiss, memorizing every little sound she made as our tongues swirled together.
It was like we'd never kissed before and like we'd been kissing forever at the same time. It was an odd feeling, both disorienting and calming and somehow right at the same time. Like we'd been made for each other.
And no, that thought didn't send alarm bells screeching through my head either although it probably should. It sure as hell would have before. But not with Morgan.
She was perfect for me, a thought I'd been dancing around for the last two weeks. It didn't make sense. We hadn't been together long, there were still a hundred different things I didn't know about her.
But I didn't care. I just knew how I felt—
And I knew it felt right.
I reached between us and somehow managed to shrug out of my suit jacket and dress shirt. Her hands drifted across my bare chest, flesh burning flesh with each caress. The tips of her fingers lightly traced the outline of the tattoo on my chest, like she had somehow already memorized the lines of the crossed hockey sticks and flaming puck I'd been stupid enough to get right after I'd been drafted.
The light touch of her fingers wasn't enough. I wanted more, needed more. I snagged the hem of her shirt and drew it up, my knuckles grazing the bare flesh of her sides with each inch. I broke the kiss long enough to pull the shirt over her head, then leaned down to claim her mouth once more. My fingers traced the lacy strap of her bra, around to the simple clasp at the back. One snap and the clasp was undone, the material falling down around her with a little help from my hands.
She shimmied her arms from the straps and the bra fell between us. Then she was pressed against me again, soft and warm and mine.
I tightened my hands around her hips and lifted her, then swallowed her soft cry of surprise as I carried her toward the island counter. Fingers dug into my shoulders and her legs wrapped around my waist, damn near sending me over the edge when she rocked against me.
The bed wasn't far and it would be simple enough to carry her there. Five seconds, max. But five seconds was too long, especially when I needed her now.
I reached into my pocket
and grabbed my wallet, blindly searching for the condom I always kept there. Yeah, maybe it was cliché as hell but it was something I'd had drilled into me since I was fifteen.
I'd never been more thankful for that advice than I was now because I honestly didn't think I'd survive the trip to my nightstand to get one.
I sat Morgan on the counter then eased her legs to the side, just long enough to pull off each of her shoes. My fingers reached for the snap and zipper of her jeans. I managed to undo each despite the odd clumsiness of the movement. I'd never been clumsy before, no matter how anxious I was to get started, and the fact that I was clumsy now was a little surprising.
That thought didn't stay with me long, disappearing almost as quickly as every other thought I'd had since walking through the door. The only thing that mattered now was Morgan.
Her taste.
Her touch.
Her little moans of need and desire.
Her pleasure.
I peeled her underwear and jeans off and dropped them to the floor. Then I stepped closer and dragged one hand up each leg, reveling in the feel of warm skin under my touch. Back and forth, savoring every inch of her. Slowly moving higher, taking my time even though I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in her. Higher still, until I cupped her pussy with one hand.
She moaned again, the sound a little sharper, and pushed her hips against me. I reached up with my free hand and curled my fingers in her hair then tilted her head back to swallow her cries with my mouth. Nails dug into my shoulders and her hips rocked toward me again, silently demanding.
I flicked the tip of one finger over her clit and was rewarded with another sharp cry. Again, a little harder this time, stroking her over and over as she clung to me. I eased my finger into her pussy, groaned as her wet heat squeezed and tightened around me.
So wet. So fucking hot.
Every honorable intention of dragging her pleasure out all night fled. I needed inside her with an intensity that stole the breath from my lungs.
Troublemaker (New Orleans Bourdons Book 2) Page 12
