on her face, along with the rosy marks of his whiskers on her bare skin, the swollen
nipples so sweet and succulent they made his mouth water, and the fiery hair covering
the slick utopia of her pussy.
His gut clenched. Again. Cross the room, lay her out, fuck her again.
Ignoring the voice, he slammed and locked the door, then stalked toward the
computer desk in the corner. He plopped down in his chair and booted up his machine.
But the thoughts and impulses pounding at him were unlike his mundane actions. His
instinct told him he’d just made a big mistake by turning his back on her. If he’d been
thinking beyond his desire to fuck her and the shock of his frenzied reaction to her, he’d
have realized that if he wanted Morgan to leave Brandon, he had to keep her sated and
enthralled. Constantly. Nothing else would ensure that she willingly walked away from
his former pal. And if he had any sense, he’d get on his feet, march back in there, carry
her to his bed and tie her to it.
But Jack hesitated. Morgan had been like a match on the tinder of his control. He
needed a breath to recover, to think. She and her feelings weren’t important; only the fact
that he’d achieved the first part of his revenge was. Deciding how to achieve the other
half, the part where she left Brandon…that ranked up there.
Instead, dangerous fantasies of him laying her out on his bed and having a leisurely
feast assailed him. He’d kill to work his mouth from the lush heat of her lips, down that
silken throat, to the sweet treats of her berry nipples, over the sleek plain of her
abdomen…all the way down to her wet, clenching little pussy he knew would be like
ambrosia.
Damn it, he had to get his mind off his dick and remember that Morgan was the
means to an end. She’d cheated on her fiancé—not the kind of woman to get tangled up
with. Been there, done that. He had the scars to prove it.
To top it all off, she still had a stalker who wanted her dead. She was scared out of her
mind, and he’d promised to protect her and get her some answers. It was the least he
could do. Repayment for using her. He needed to focus on keeping her safe, not dwell on
the feel of her around him. Not on how challenging she would be to truly tame.
He’d find some way to convince her to leave Brandon that didn’t involve sinking his
cock into her body over and over until they were both too sated to move.
A quick glance at his watch told Jack it wasn’t quite seven in the morning, too early to
call Deke, his business partner, or anyone else. Deke had a million connections, from
senators to janitors. He’d know someone who knew something about her stalker. But
until then, all Jack had to focus on was Morgan or revenge.
Okay, revenge. He’d think about that, focus on how sweet it was going to be to pay
Brandon back for his perfidy. He didn’t feel elation, at least not yet. Likely he wouldn’t
until Morgan left the bastard. But he’d known at the start there was a potential flaw in
his plan: If Morgan didn’t tell Brandon about her indiscretion, Jack had no way of
ensuring Brandon found out. No way of proving it. And proving it—that was important.
Everything, in fact.
Rising from his chair, Jack paced. How could he prove to Brandon that he’d gotten
deep inside his woman and made her scream his name? He’d gotten irrevocable proof of
Brandon’s backstabbing via video but—
But…he might be able to provide Brandon the same.
Jack smiled. Paybacks were a bitch…
Ignoring the sting of his conscience, he raced back to his chair and fell into his seat,
fingers on the keyboard. A few commands later, he found what he’d been looking for:
the security footage inside the cabin from just a few minutes ago. Clicking into the file
that started at 6 A.M., he watched it in double time until Morgan came out stomping and
screaming in that little green towel.
Then he sat back to watch at normal speed and full sound. He didn’t want to miss a
second of this.
Hell, she was gorgeous, all that red hair hanging over her shoulders like a fiery flag of
temptation. That creamy skin, lightly freckled and teasing his tongue. He got hard again
just remembering the way she smelled, like fresh raspberries with a hint of cinnamon.
Morgan was the kind of woman—strong, only bendable with effort—that he loved to dive
into and eat. He hadn’t found a woman like her in a long time. She was wasted on
Brandon.
On his black-and-white video, he kissed her, touched her nipples. Watching her eyes
slide shut, her skin flush, her back arch to him in offering aroused him all over again.
Being there to experience her had been…beyond mind-blowing, but watching her this