Chapter Twenty-Two

MORGAN

He has no clue what he’s done to me.

And I hate myself.

For wanting him.

For desiring every part of him.

The moment he stepped into my office, I saw my former self. The person I used to be before I allowed myself to be burdened with the weight that rests on other people’s shoulders. I tried to resist him, but his cocky attitude got the best of me. His presence alone, sitting across the desk the first time we met, stirred this buried emotion—desire.

A muscular build hid behind this perfectly fitted navy suit. Tall, with hair styled modern and slicked to the side, accentuating his strong jawline. And although my body instantly craved to touch him, it was his deep blue eyes that had me drowning and begging for a life jacket.

But I have a terrible habit of screwing guys and walking away. Or at least, I used to.

Noah Mason is a wrecking ball. He’s taking me along with him, even though every part of me tries to push him away.

And then, without any warning, he fucked me. Against the door, challenging and full of grunt.In less than ten minutes, he’d done things to me that I’ve never experienced in this lifetime. He’s opened the doors and freed Violet Winters—a woman caged and living in the shadows of her famous sister.

I manage to wrap up the meeting without too much trouble. Jacque offered me a nightcap in his room, which I kindly refused.

I know Noah has difficulty expressing his emotions, but he plays the part of a jealous man to a T.

The question remains—Do I go back up to Noah’s room or not?

For minutes, I sit at the bar, contemplating my next move, wondering how I find myself here, why life chooses to throw this giant curveball at me as if I don’t have enough on my plate.

And then there are no more questions.

I quickly find myself outside his door, knocking, and the moment he opens it wearing only a towel, which he conveniently drops when he sees me, I know I can’t turn back.

He retakes me, against the wall, this time turning me around and fucking me from behind. He has the stamina of a stallion, and although I’m utterly exhausted, he finishes by laying me on the bed and giving me everything I need at that moment—slow, dirty, erotic sex.

My body has exerted itself—something I haven’t experienced sexually before. I’ve done many things, and many men, but he’s like some sex god attentive to all my needs. Previously, I had joked that I was a receiver. Selfishwould be the appropriate word. Yeah, I’ve blown guys, but almost always, I want all the attention.

Yet with Noah, I want to give back.

Running my nails along his muscular, lean torso and grating his abs, his cock teases me relentlessly, standing tall and begging for attention. I don’t hold back, nor do I tease, running my mouth down his body like a marathon race until I take him all in. My lips envelop around his shaft and relaxing my back muscles, I push down as far as my throat will allow. His groan follows, deep and husky, hands messing my hair as he pushes me onto him deeper.

My body reacts again. Although sore and sensitive from where he’s been on me, my nipples become erect, the hardening, a mixture of pleasure and pain. He begs me to stop, but I’m cruel that way, carrying on because I need all of him in my mouth.

But his strength outweighs mine. And in just one move, he has me on all fours. My knees begin to wobble, tired and exhausted. He knows what he’s doing to me, but the selfish bastard doesn’t care. He tells me what he wants.

All of me.

Now.

Here.

Tonight.

And I want all of those things too. I want him to take me everywhere in this room and show me what he’s got. Lay all the cards on the table. Take me in every way he’s imagined in his dirty mind until my legs are no longer wobbling but paralyzed.

But reality has a way of knocking the fantasy straight out of you. I know I can’t stay, and I have learned relatively quickly that Noah isn’t a patient man. He demands things and doesn’t take well to his needs not being met.

Although the hotel sits in a busy part of Los Angeles, the noise outside can’t be heard inside the four walls of this room. Dead silence, just the beats of our hearts crazily in sync with each other, the most terrifying sound you can hear. Each beat, loud and peculiar, sends chills throughout me.

Noah runs his hands along my arm, slowly warming my skin. He doesn’t realize nor understand the complexity of the situation. And now isn’t the moment, so I do the only thing I’ve learned to do around him—run away.

“I need to go, Noah, I have things I have to do in the morning.”

“Why can’t you stay?” Anger and desperation filters through his tone.

Questions. More damn questions.

Every time I try to be civil, we end up arguing and getting into a fight like we’re an old married couple. And sometimes, I purposely pick a struggle because I have no idea how else to push him away. I don’t want to hurt him, and every part of me knows that every second that goes past, I’m weaving a bigger web for myself.

“Because I’ve stayed as long as I can tonight. Please, don’t fight with me. Don’t ruin what just happened between us,” I say, keeping the sadness away from my face and replacing it with the smallest of smiles.

He brushes his finger along my lip, hooded eyes watching me suspiciously. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” I repeat, above a whisper.

His cell buzzes on the table beside him. He glances over but is quick to place his cell down. I can see his expression has shifted, a look of concern as worry reflects in his eyes.

“Is everything okay?”

He nods, “Yeah, just a text.”

I wanted to ask him if it was Kate. For some reason, she gets the better of me. They have this bond, this so-called friendship that doesn’t sit right with me. Noah doesn’t appear to be the type to hold friendships with women unless, of course, it has benefits.

I’m not an emotional person, always finding some way to block the pain. And even at my mother’s funeral, I didn’t shed a tear for fear of coming across weak in front of our family and friends. It was three days later when I finally broke down driving to campus for an important exam. I never told Dad or Scarlett how my car stopped at the red light, and by the time it turned green, I couldn’t move, paralyzed with pain. The hurt hit me with such force that my catatonic state alarmed the drivers around me. When I managed to snap out of it, I drove myself to the nearest frat house and lost myself to alcohol, drugs, and sex with random guys. It was my darkest hour. An hour that lasted four days until my friend found me and physically dragged me out of the house.

But something about Noah has struck a nerve. One that I’m struggling to hold back.

I dress and leave him there, hurrying to my car, where I drive home in a confused state of mind.

It’s late, just before midnight when I step inside the house and quietly place my keys on the hall table.

“You’re late,” he says from within the living room.

The room is dimly lit, only the small lamp illuminating a corner of the large room. I stop and keep my back to him, afraid he can see it etched on my face.

“I had stuff that needed to be taken care of.”

He remains silent, breathing quietly as I wait nervously for him to speak. “He asked for you.”

And then, the guilt and shame override any happiness I felt for the past few hours. My heart almost falls to the floor, heavy and saddened by the hurt I’ve inflicted on him. Unintentionally, yet still, I should’ve known better.

Dragging my feet, riddled with guilt, I make my way toward the back of the house and quietly open the door to his room. His nightlight is on, sitting just above his pillow. With gentle snores, I tiptoe to his bed and see him curled in a ball, holding onto his favorite train, Gordon. The oldest and wisest train that lives on the island of Sodor. I don’t dare take it out of his hands, instead pulling the blanket over and stopping just below his chin.

Leaning in, I kiss his forehead and pull away, watching him for a few moments. He doesn’t realize how special he is. Despite the challenges he faces daily, he belongs in the hearts of so many people. Mine, utterly full of love for him, and all I want to do is protect him.

I close the door, leaving it slightly ajar in case he calls out through the night. I walk back to my room, where he’s lying on our bed, keeping to his own side.

“He didn’t settle well.”

I apologize again, displaying my guilt. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“You’re busy,” he says with his iPad in his lap. “I’ll be out of town this weekend. Will you be okay?”

His eyes linger on mine, and I can read him perfectly. Like me, he carries his own guilt. I know he isn’t comfortable admitting it, and I’m not comfortable asking about it. I know this—her name is Jessica, and she has a knack for messaging him when he’s in the shower.

I remove my bracelet and place it on the dresser. “Uh… yeah, I think Dad’s coming into town, anyway.”

He nods, shifting his focus back to his iPad. I make my way to the bathroom and peel off my clothes. My skin is red, marked, and tainted by Noah. I close my eyes for a brief moment, running my hands along my breasts, tracing his steps. I shouldn’t want more, but my body craves it more than I could have imagined. I shower long enough to ease my sore muscles, and when I’m dressed for bed, I turn the light off in the bathroom and stand beside our bed.

He keeps to his side, again, and I climb in—the click of the lamp echoes through the room. Then darkness falls between us.

“It’ll work out, Morgan,” he says quietly in the dark.

My cell beeps inside my hand. I lift it to read the text.

Noah: Something urgent has come up. Raincheck?

Me:Of course. Is everything okay?

Noah:It will be.

I didn’t have the heart to ask if that something is a someone. I have no way of controlling how I feel anymore, and no way of pulling my heart out of this game. I’m afraid the feelings, which have consumed me since the moment Noah stepped in my office, have led to one thing.

I am inlove with him.