wrong.
In fact, if he wanted to have Morgan, and keep her, he was going to have to form a
stronger bond between them right away. Something that might shake but wouldn’t break
when she learned why he’d agreed to be on her TV show—and that he’d bribed her
buddy Reggie to make it happen. That he’d done it all for revenge. And he’d tell her…
but not yet. Not until they were solid.
First, he had to earn her trust on a visceral level, teach her body that he would always
put her care first. The bedroom was a good place to start breaking down her barriers.
Once she’d surrendered, then they could talk. The rest would fall into place.
Knowledge, rightness, and a plan clicked into place in that moment, like the piece of a
puzzle that had been hovering just out of reach.
Finally, he said, “I don’t need time to think about it. Take her clothes with you,
Grand-pere. Don’t bring them out here again.”
Brice smiled wide, showing crooked white teeth against Cajun-dark skin. “Laizzez les
bon temps roule!”
Oh, yeah. Let the good times roll…
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We will finish this later.
Jack’s vow rang through Morgan’s head as Brice charmed her through breakfast.
She chastised the older man for bringing her lingerie and nothing else. With dark
eyes twinkling, he gave her a sanguine grin and a shrug, but wasn’t apologetic in the
least.
But Jack…his gaze burned, telegraphing his earlier words. We will finish this later.
Morgan wished she could close off the memory, drown out the voice in her head. Over
scrambled eggs, which both men doused with Tabasco, Jack stared at her as if she was a
cross between a confounding puzzle and a tasty treat. And above all, something he
coveted. Someone he meant to possess.
Damn it, why had she ever said yes to Jack and his playroom? Trying to say no after
the exquisite pleasure he’d given her seemed nearly impossible.
But saying yes in that moment had been easy— imperative—with his mouth hovering
over her and an enormous climax pending. Now that pleasure wasn’t destroying her
ability to breathe and think, Morgan wasn’t sure that giving in, giving him everything he
wanted, was a good idea. It would not only change everything between them, but change
her forever. Since being around Jack, her fantasies had become more urgent, more
explicit. Impulses she’d always had now came with remembered sensations—and the
memories also came complete with Jack’s sigh-worthy face to haunt her.
On the other hand, she wanted him—and was beginning to crave having every wild
pleasure he could give her. Something about giving in to the impulses he roused in her
body made her feel more alive, more…complete. Did that even make sense?
We will finish this later. Given the weight of his stare right now, Morgan knew he still
meant it.
Should she? Shouldn’t she?
Like everything else about Jack, the promise he’d given her filled her with hot shame,
even as it made her ache and shake with need. This morning, on the porch… God, she
could still feel his mouth on her sex, forcing his tongue inside her, taking tender
possession. Driving her out of her mind. He’d suffused every nerve in her body with
speech-defying ecstasy, making it impossible to run away from the sensations he poured
over her like sweet, warm honey.
But she was so damn curious—and excited—about whatever he did on those racks
and tables with the cuffs and clamps…and other items she was too naive to name. The
more she tried to run away from her wants, the more insistent they grew, slowly
overtaking her will like a clinging vine overtaking the garden.
What if she let him follow through on his threat to finish what they’d started? Would
it be so terrible if she did? Just for now? No one but her and Jack would have to know.
Biting her lip, she watched Jack’s taut posture grow more tense as Brice lingered for
after-breakfast coffee. His dark eyes promised pleasure, prepared her for a hint of pain.
His vow to totally possess her shone in his seductive gaze. She swallowed against a belly-
tightening mix of fear and thrill and anticipation. Attraction layered over that, luring her
directly to him, as if an invisible string lay between them, growing shorter and shorter
with every hour.
It made no sense that she could want someone so desperately who brought out her
very worst impulses. Someone who would take her places far beyond the norm, into a
realm that would horrify her mother and sicken men like Andrew. If she let Jack, he
would ruin her for every other man’s touch. Worse, living with herself after he molded
her into a submissive wanton would be impossible. Doormat wasn’t her style. She didn’t