Wicked Ties(119)
Morgan gestured around the otherwise uninhabited room. “As you can see, all’s clear.
No psychos here ready to kill me. You can go now.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s possible this asshole
followed you here from Alyssa’s. He could have been watching the club, just waiting for
you. You don’t know.”
She hated to admit that he could be right…but in this case, he could be. Damn it, she
had to start thinking smart, with the brain God gave her, not with her weeping heart.
“And you may think we’re done,” Jack went on, advancing, closer, closer, larger and
more insistent with every step. “Think again. I don’t want to lose you to this stalker;
that’s a given. But I don’t want to lose you. Period.”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “Lose me, how? As a…little fuck toy. That’s all I am to you.
You enjoyed every minute of tearing away all my misconceptions about myself.
Congratulations for convincing me I’m submissive. Now get the hell out of my life.” She
whirled away.
Jack snagged her around the waist and hauled her back against his chest. It didn’t
take more than a second to feel the steelinspired cock prodding the small of her back.
The knowledge shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t make her sex clench with need, shouldn’t
make her ache to latch onto him, to surrender everything to him.
Shouldn’ts weren’t her reality. Morgan did want him, with a desperate craving that
made her body tight and achy, a condition she feared only he could ease.
“A fuck toy?” he growled in her ear. “No. A fuck toy I could have put back in a box
and forgotten. I could have sent one of those away without another thought. A fuck toy
wouldn’t have me hard every time I hear your voice, or worried when I see you cry. Or
feeling ready to hand you my heart on a platter every time you do nothing more than
fucking smile.”
Morgan’s breath caught. He didn’t mean it. Impossible after the way he’d treated her
tonight. “Let go.”
Her demand fell on deaf ears. Instead, he growled in her ear, “When I put that collar
around your neck tonight, that meant something. That dangling heart represented
something. I know you get it. The symbolism can’t be lost on you.”
His heart? No… “It meant so much that you cursed at me and stormed out. You’re
the one pushing, pushing, encouraging me to open up, let loose, promising me that it’s
okay. Yeah, it’s okay as long as it’s some fantasy you’ve been harboring, but when I—”
“My ex-wife cheated on me,” Jack cut in, panting in her ear, once, twice. “I learned she
was fucking my then best friend when I found their homemade video.”
Gasping, Morgan’s jaw dropped. Her tirade stuck in her throat. He’d actually seen his
wife and his best friend together? Not just heard gossip about them. Not just listened to
their confession. He’d witnessed it in a way he could replay it over and over.
To a strong, proud man like Jack that would be the ultimate slap in the face.
Morgan risked a glance over her shoulder. Defenses stripped, Jack’s gaze seethed
anger and begged her forgiveness all at once. “We weren’t…close. I tried to give her what
she needed— money, health insurance, time, and space after she miscarried. I was
faithful, but…”
It wasn’t enough. He hadn’t known what else to do. His burning eyes and painful
silence told her that.
Jack turned her to face him and released her. “Knowing that she let another man fuck
her ate me alive. She begged him to touch her.” He swallowed. “She could barely stand to
be in the same room with me. And then she left me. For him.”
The rest of the message shone clear in his tortured gaze. Morgan mattered, and he
wasn’t letting her go. He wasn’t hiding his intention to have her again.
And she’d staggered him with the fact that she’d fantasized about having two hungry
cocks command and possess her at once. He fought the knowledge that she ached for
Jack to share her.
Another man screwing his ex-wife had pissed him off, hurt his pride. The hot drill of
his stare told Morgan that another man touching her had the power to turn Jack into a
red-hazed, fullfledged postal maniac. She could bring him to his knees.
Oh, God. He hadn’t stormed out of the playroom because he was shocked; he’d done
it because he was scared. Of losing her.
Because he cared.
“I kept wondering what my ex needed that I didn’t give her.” His voice cracked. He
cleared his throat, closed his eyes. Looked away. “In ten months of marriage, she never