Chapter Twenty-Six

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Dusty

We drive home, then make spaghetti for dinner. We go to the back deck to eat, enjoying the summer night and the sounds of nature around us.

I can’t pretend I’m not thrilled with the way things have been going—Morgan offering to stay, and now looking into buying the bar. It all feels too good to be true, and part of me is waiting for it all to fall apart.

But he seems happy, different from the Morgan he’d been when he’d first come home. Though I can tell the conversation with Easton earlier is weighing on him.

“You okay?” I ask when we’re done eating. We’re still sitting outside, string lights above us and nothing but the dark woods in the distance.

“Yeah.” He reaches over, squeezes my hand, and doesn’t let go. I love how he seems to always want to be touching me, how sometimes it’s like Morgan needs to be as entwined with me as he can get, as if he would live in my skin if it were possible.

“He’ll be okay. We’ll make sure of it. I don’t want you to stress about it tonight, though. You’re buying a fucking bar, Morgan. That blows my mind. You have no fear.”

His head whips in my direction. “How do I have no fear?”

“Well, in a lot of ways, but you’re just going to start a business, one that isn’t something you’ve wanted your whole life, and I know you’ll succeed at it. I know you’ll make it great.”

“You started a business too.”

“Yeah, but it was something I’ve always wanted. I always knew I would do auto body work. You’re trying something completely different.”

He chuckles. “And I might fail at it.”

“You won’t, but the fact is you could, and you’re doing it anyway. I think that’s a reason to celebrate.”

He cocks a brow, seemingly reading the way my voice drops an octave. “Oh yeah? How will we do that?”

“You’re gonna sit back and let me play. I’m gonna pleasure my man.” I get off my chair and kneel in front of him. Morgan is sitting back, legs spread, arms on the rests on each side of the chair. His dark hair is mussed from a day of running his fingers through it. He reaches out, cups my face, the rings he wears cool against my skin. I burrow into it, kiss his palms, then get to work, taking off one shoe, then the other.

After I open the button and zipper on his jeans, I tap his thigh, and Morgan lifts his hips so I can tug his jeans and underwear off. He’s not fully hard, his cock at half-mast, resting in the nest of dark hair at his groin.

I spit in my hand, wrap it around his shaft, and slowly start to stroke him to life. His flesh is warm against my palm as his balls fill and his cock swells. Leaning in, I kiss one thigh, then the other.

His fingers tangle in my hair as I nudge his sac with my nose. Morgan scoots down in the chair, spreading his legs, while I lick the seam where his thigh meets his groin.

Heat radiates off him, warm musk and the scent of amber that always seems to cling to his skin. It invades my senses, but it’s not enough, never enough.

I suck his balls and savor the sound of Morgan hissing out his pleasure.

“Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. This is your night. You lead the way.”

I feel his grin before I look up and see it. When I do, the damn thing steals my breath. There’s nothing as beautiful as a happy Morgan Swift.

“I want it fast and hard. Take me to the back of your throat over and over until I spill my load.”

My own dick throbs in my jeans, but this moment isn’t about me. And what he’s asking? Yeah, I can definitely do that.

I look down, but Morgan’s finger moves to my chin, tilting my head up. “Look at me, Dust. Let me see into those pretty eyes of yours as I watch my cock go right where it belongs.”

A small gust of wind suddenly blows over us like the whole damn universe agrees with that idea. I don’t take my gaze off him as I lower my mouth down…down…over his hot, hard length, not stopping until the head of his cock is in my throat. I swallow around him, then lift off and lower my mouth again.

His familiar taste bursts on my tongue. I want to devour him, head bobbing, dick hitting the back of my throat. He wanted hard and fast, so I’ll give it to him, letting Morgan take his pleasure from me, being the vessel for him to do that, the way I know he would do for me as well.

“Fuck…Dusty…Jesus, you can suck a cock.”

His cock. I was made to suck his cock. I try to show him, adding my hand to the mix, stroking him and sucking him, still holding his gaze as I try to see him through the blurriness in my eyes.

My dick throbs, pulses with need, but again, I don’t care about that tonight. I just want to be the person who always makes Morgan feel good.

When his hand tightens in my hair, I know he’s close. With my other hand, I reach over and play with his full balls, sucking him down until a burst of hot, salty cum lands on my tongue. I wish I could hold it in my mouth forever, just so I can always savor Morgan’s taste.

He spurts again and again. “Dusty…” His voice is rough, body tight before he relaxes back into the chair. “That was fucking awesome. I think you might have killed me.”

I chuckle. “Let’s hope not.” Shoving to my feet, I adjust my bulge.

“Come on me.” He lifts his shirt.

I’d just planned on ignoring my erection, but if that’s what he wants, I’ll gladly do it. I step closer, open my jeans, pull them down, and jerk myself off. The hot feel of my hand around myself, the flavor of him in my mouth, and seeing Morgan half naked and sated is enough to have my balls drawing up, the world twisting around me as I shoot my cum all over him. Leaning down, I rub it into his skin, wanting him to smell like me. “Now everyone will know you’re mine.”

“God, I love you.” Morgan tugs me down for a kiss, not needing the words to know I love him too.

*

My eyes jerkopen at the sound of Morgan’s phone. It’s dark enough that I know sunrise is still hours off. Worry immediately makes my blood pressure spike.

He wakes as it rings again, reaching over, fumbling for his phone, while I turn on the light. Is it Gregory?

“It’s a local number,” Morgan says. “Hello?” Whoever is on the other side must say something because Morgan adds, “East? Jesus. What the fuck happened?” Morgan puts the phone on speaker so we can both hear.

“I got arrested. I’m fine. I just need you to go take care of Pretty Girl in the morning. She’s gonna need out, and I don’t want her to be alone.”

“What about you?”

“Who cares? Take care of my dog, Morgan. I’m counting on you. I…” He doesn’t go to people easily; we all know that. It shows how their relationship is changing and how much he loves his dog that Easton is even calling Morgan right now.

“We’ll make sure she’s taken care of, but I’m not just hanging you out to dry. What happened?”

Easton sighs. “Me.”

“I’ll call Archer,” I add.

“Fuck. I’m not even in Birchbark. I’m in Lilington. Just take care of Pretty Girl.” He tells us where a spare key is. “Promise me.”

“Yeah,” Morgan says. “Of course we will.”

“Gotta go.” The line goes dead, and the second it does, Morgan is getting out of bed.

“We’ll take care of his dog, but I’m not going to just ignore the fact that my brother is in jail.”

“Good.” I get up. “Me neither. I’ll call Archer to see if he can help. We can get Cass to go over and take care of Pretty Girl in the morning if we’re not done. You should call Rhett. Depending on what happened, we might need your brother on this.” East might need a lawyer, is what I mean.

Morgan nods, body stiff, eyes pained as he tugs on his clothes.

“It’s not your fault, Morgan. Whatever happened with East tonight isn’t your fault.”

“I knew he was upset. I should have gone home with him, made sure he’s okay.”

“He’s a grown man and responsible for himself.”

Morgan doesn’t answer, just grabs his phone and calls Rhett.