“But we’re married.”
“Exactly,” he snapped, tossing his napkin on his empty plate. “I married you, even after knowing I’d never wanted that. I married you, and it had to be for a reason. Had to be for something. I refuse to immediately throw this away. I need to understand the reason I did what I did.”
She clenched her fists and curled her toes in her boots. “We were drunk! That’s it. Drunk.”
“So that’s the only reason we have anything between us at all? Because we were drunk?”
“Yes.” But her heart screamed no. “You’re putting all this shit into something that doesn’t even exist. It’s all in our heads. Something we’ve built up that is this amazing feeling, but it’s just sex. Meaningless, fun, wonderful sex.”
“Liar. Even I can admit we have more than sex.”
“No.” She rose and placed a hand on her hip. “It’s not. Just sex amplified by being drunk.”
“Are you drunk right now?” He stood up and headed toward her, his gaze dark and threatening.
She stepped back, but then forced herself to stand still. She wouldn’t retreat from him. “W-What? No.”
“Neither am I.”
She expected him to try to strong arm her into staying, to become all alpha male, but in his usual Mike fashion, he completely surprised her. Instead of throwing her over his shoulder, he tenderly ran a finger down the curve of her jaw. His lips hovered over hers and his warm breath tickled her skin. He stood there, unmoving for a few moments, until her eyelids fluttered closed. She felt his lips gently brush against each lid and dance across her face, until he settled on the sensitive part of her neck.
Emotion clogged Morgan’s throat as her body—her heart—came to life.
She clung to him, pressing against him, needing to feel him against her. Inside of her. The magnetism between them was still there, as it had been before.
“Don’t go,” Mike whispered in her ear before nipping her earlobe. “Stay.”
And she wanted to stay so badly it hurt. Wanted to be everything he wanted her to be, and then maybe a bit more. Damn it, he was right. This was more than sex. If it was just sex, it wouldn’t be so hard to walk away from him. If it was just sex, she wouldn’t want to stay even though she knew she should go.
He tugged her apron over her head, hungrily latching onto her lips as soon as it had cleared her body.
She kissed her way down his face, his neck, his chest, until she was on her knees in front of him. With trembling fingers, she undid his belt and then his pants, unzipping him carefully. Once he was free, she flicked her tongue over the tip of his penis. He dug his fingers in her hair, and groaned, “Morgan.”
God, she liked that. Liked the way he said her name when she pleasured him. Liked the way it made her feel when he needed her like this. She closed her mouth around him, taking him in deep. She rolled her tongue around his length as she sucked, increasing the suction as he groaned louder. She could taste him, knew he was close to exploding, but he pulled back and helped her to her feet.
“You’re f**king amazing, my beautiful dancer.” He punctuated each word with kisses and her heart fluttered at the endearment. My beautiful dancer. “But you have too many clothes on,” he said, his voice guttural. “And so do I.” He kicked off his jeans and grabbed the hem of his shirt while she discarded her bra and panties. Once undressed, they melted into each other’s arms again, then fell to the soft carpeted floor.
She climbed on top of him, one leg on either side of his hips and scratched her nails down his chest, loving the contrast of tight muscles on smooth skin. He arched up, his hands on her butt. She rubbed against him, moaning when his erection touched her clit.
He grasped her tighter, holding her flush against him. “Morgan, I need you now.”
He needed her. And she needed him, too. She grasped his penis and prepared to lower herself down on him. He stopped her, his face red and his mouth pinched. “Condom first.”
She couldn’t believe she’d been so lost in the moment she’d completely forgotten the condom. That had never happened. Just another first in a long, long line of things she didn’t normally do—but she did with him. She retrieved a condom and gently slid it over his erection, wanting to do it for him. She’d never put one on him before, so she fumbled it a bit, but he lay there and let her explore. Let her take the lead.
When she looked up and met his eyes, what she saw there took her breath away. He looked at her as if…as if he felt something for her. Something neither of them had wanted or expected. And scarily enough, she suspected she might be feeling it, too.
She swallowed past her aching throat, then slid back on top of him, cupping his face with her hands. She gently brushed her lips over his, barely touching him. His blond brows furrowed and his hands gripped her hips with a tenderness he’d never really shown her during sex. He stared up at her with blazing sea green eyes, not dropping his gaze. His hair was all over the place and his lips were inviting. She closed the distance between them, brushing her mouth against his. He strained against her, seeking more.
She sunk onto his length and he let out a sigh. The feel of him inside of her was more wonderful than she could ever have imagined, but even more moving was the way they held gazes. The way neither one of them seemed to want to close their eyes, in case they missed something.
His hands splayed out over her back and he surged up into her, and she finally let her lids drift shut. Her entire body quivered. Before, the sex had been all about taking. But this time…this time is was all about giving. And he gave to her, just as much as she gave to him. The pressure building inside of her grew, higher and higher, and she clung to him, rocking her hips harder. Faster.
He continued thrusting into her, sending her spiraling over the edge, making her feel as if she floated in the air. He rolled her underneath him and pressed his fingers against her clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure, and she miraculously tightened around him. She exploded again.
He groaned, “Morgan.”
Then his whole body tightened, and he collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily.
She played with his blond curls, waiting for him to come down from his high with bated breath. Something more than sex had happened between them, and she knew it.
The question was…did he know it, too?
When he lifted himself onto his elbow, he watched her, his expression grave. “That wasn’t meaningless, Morgan.”