hers, long and smooth. ‘You sure you want to do this, Morgan?’ he muttered as his hand palmed her butt.
‘Still sure.’ Morgan angled her head away so that he could taste her neck, that sensitive spot just under her ear. His broad hand covered her breast and shivers skittered over her skin. Her fingers went to his shirt buttons and soon her hands were on warm male flesh, hot muscle and sexy skin. Her fingers danced over a very impressive six-pack and over the V of hip muscle that descended into his pants.
Noah groaned in the back of his throat as he slowly pulled her T-shirt up her torso, his eyes darkening at the white scraps of lace that covered her full breasts. He pulled her shirt up and over her head and dropped it to the floor, before running a finger along the edge of the lace. ‘Pretty.’
Morgan sucked in her breath as his finger touched her hard nipple.
He hooked his hand under the lace and revealed her breast to his sizzling gaze. ‘Very pretty indeed.’
His hot mouth covered her as he flipped open her bra and pulled it down her arms. Groaning, he banded his arms around her and, kissing her mouth, walked her backwards to the plump couch, lowering her to the striped fabric when the seat hit the back of her knees. Noah knelt down in front of her and picked up her booted foot, glowering at the knee-high laced boots.
Noah cursed. ‘This is going to take far too long.’
‘Not so much.’ Morgan grinned, reached around to the back of her calf and pulled a zip down the boots. ‘Hidden zip.’
‘Brilliant.’ Noah pulled her boots off impatiently, yanked her pants down her legs, and Morgan giggled when he tossed them over his shoulder. He sat back on his haunches, still dressed only in his suit pants, and looked at her, naked but for a little scrap of lace at the juncture of her thighs. She’d thought she would feel self-conscious, shy, uncomfortable, but how could she feel anything other than sexy and powerful when such a hard-bodied, lusciously masculine man looked at her with pure approval on his rugged face?
Then Morgan saw momentary hesitation in his face, knew that his big brain was trying to crash their party. She was not going to be denied this again... If she had to tie him down—ooh, that sounded like fun—she was going to have this man on top of her, around her, inside her.
She leaned forward and placed her hands on his bare shoulders. ‘Stop thinking. I want this. So do you. Tomorrow is another day with another set of rules. Tonight there is just us...no work, no history, no flaws. Just two people who want each other. Okay?’
‘Yeah.’
Noah nodded and Morgan released her tension in a long sigh as one hand came up to cover her breast, his thumb idly brushing her peaked nipple.
‘I have a question,’ Noah said reverentially, his eyes on her panties.
Morgan wished he’d shut up and get on with what was important—i.e. giving her a mind-blowing orgasm—but she made herself speak. ‘Okay...what?’
‘Do you still have a Brazilian?’
‘Well, soldier, why don’t you take a peek?’
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Their heads flew up and turned in unison. Both looked at the door in utter disbelief.
Noah, his hand in her panties, lifted his eyebrows. ‘Expecting someone?’
‘Uh—no.’ And she wanted them to go away, while she and Noah got back to what they were doing...which was him doing her.
And doing her rather well.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
‘Morgs, you’ve got thirty seconds, then I’m using my key.’
‘James!’ Morgan looked horrified as she pushed Noah away. ‘Clothes—where are my clothes?’
‘Scattered,’ Noah said as he stood up. ‘Get dressed and I’ll delay him.’
‘Open the door, Morgan!’ James yelled. ‘And who is with you?’
‘We’re coming!’ Morgan yelled back.
‘Not in the way we’d hoped,’ Noah stated as he reached for his shirt.
‘Shut up!’ Morgan growled, wiggling into her pants. ‘Pass me my bra.’
Noah scooped up her bra, threw it towards her and tucked his shirt into his pants. When she was dressed, he gestured towards the kitchen.
‘Got anything alcoholic?’ he asked.
Morgan nodded towards an antique drinks cabinet in the corner and flipped open the bolt to her front door.
‘James,’ she drawled, ‘have you ever heard of the concept of calling before you arrive? It’s called etiquette. I’m sure Mum tried to teach us some.’
Morgan turned away and walked towards Noah who, being a good Scot, had found her expensive bottle of whisky and was pouring a healthy amount into three glasses.
‘Morgan.’
Something in her brother’s voice had all the hairs lifting on the back of her neck and arms. She turned around slowly and really looked at her brother. His face was bone-white and there were deep grooves in the lines running down next to his mouth. His eyes, green like hers, were flat and hard in his face.
‘What’s wrong?’ she demanded. ‘Is it Mum?’
James lifted up his hands. ‘She’s okay...really she is, Morgs, but something’s happened.’
Morgan sensed Noah’s approach and instinctively turned to look at him. He was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and paused briefly, lifting an eyebrow in James’s direction.
‘What are you doing here anyway, Fraser?’ James scowled.
Morgan figured that James really wouldn’t want the answer to that question. Besides, he was a big boy—he could figure it out himself. Instead she gripped the back of one of the kitchen stools and tried to find her voice. ‘Mum? What’s happened, Jay?’
James gave Noah another tough look before running his hands over his face. ‘Mum had an...incident earlier tonight.’
‘Define “incident”,’ Noah said, and all traces of her earlier lover dissipated with those two words. He was in work mode, professional to the core. Serious, smart, and very, very dangerous.
‘Jackson was walking Mum through the parking lot of Luigi’s—she was meeting Dad for supper—when they were jumped by three guys.’
‘Who is Jackson?’ Noah grabbed a glass and handed it to Morgan. ‘Drink.’
‘My mum’s long-time bodyguard and driver,’ Morgan answered, grateful for something to do with her shaking hand.
Noah passed a whisky to James and gestured for him to carry on.
‘Luckily Dad and Henry—Dad’s bodyguard—were in the parking lot at the same time and saw what happened.
