Chapter 9
“Dude, what is up with you?”Fitz asks, plopping beside me on the couch.
I say nothing as I slide my phone back into my pocket. I hoped to catch Morgan before she had to work at the club tonight, but Fitz complained he hadn’t seen us since his wedding and demanded we all hang out at his place. I think he’s lonely because it’s Tabby’s first day back at the hospital.
“You’re surlier than usual. Is your neighbor complaining about your hedges again?”
“No.” Once my neighbor saw who owned the house he was leaving passive-aggressive notes at, they magically stopped appearing.
“Don’t mind him,” Connor remarks, handing me another beer. “He’s extra grumpy because his girl is working tonight and can only text on breaks.”
Fitz chokes on his drink before staring at me with an expression of utter betrayal.
“Your girl?!” he shouts. “I go away for a few weeks and come back to my practically celibate best friend in a relationship?”
“I was not celibate,” I scoff. “Just because I keep my business to myself doesn’t mean I’m not handling it.”
His disgruntled expression at finding out I have had women in my life he didn’t know about—not that there were many—is laughable. Almost.
Since arriving in LA, I have had a few friends-with-benefits situations, mostly with industry types who also wanted a release without all the media hoopla. It was no one’s business but ours. It”s different with Morgan, though.
I’ve never been one to wax poetic, but I want every man to know she’s mine. There is a primal urge within me that wants to make her off-limits to the entire world. Instead of saying that, I simply shrug.
“Who is she?” Fitz demands.
Connor answers for me. “Remember the blonde bottle girl from your bachelor party he couldn’t stop staring at?”
“She’s more than a ‘bottle girl.’” I glare at him. “But yes, her.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Fitz grumbles petulantly.
“My bad. Should I have interrupted your honeymoon to giggle on the phone about it? Want me to add you to my calendar? Then you can see when I go on dates.”
“You put them on a calendar?” Danvers questions.
“No,” I quip, over this conversation. When I shoot Mikelson a glance to commiserate on the idiocy of our friends, he’s wearing a pensive expression.
“What?” I ask.
“What, what?” he responds.
“What’s wrong with your face?”
“That isn’t nice,” Connor chides with a slap to my arm. “He can’t help how many times his formerly pretty face has been hit on the ice.”
“He could stop talking so much shit,” Fitz suggests making us all chuckle.
“Not his fucked up nose,” I say. “The weird expression he had when we were talking about Morgan.”
“It’s nothing, man. Not my business,” Mikelson responds.
“It sure as fuck sounds like it’s mine,” I snap. He searches the group for support, but they’re all watching him expectantly, even Danvers.
“Fuck it. Fine. Does Morgan know she’s your girl? That you are exclusive?”
“Of course,” I answer.
“You two defined your relationship and talked about it?”
“Not in as many words, but she knows. We’ve been out several times already.”
“Have you talked about it? Slept together? Spent the night?”
“Who are you, TMZ? What does it matter?”
“Do you have a reason to believe she doesn’t think they’re exclusive?” Fitz asks, reading between the lines.
“Nothing concrete, but Cherri may have mentioned setting up Morgan with one of her brother’s friends.”
“What?” I roar. “Your girl is setting mine up with someone else? What the fuck?”
“Mikelson has a girl, too?!” Fitz exclaims, focusing on the wrong detail.
“It’s not like that,” the traitor replies. “We’re keeping it casual, as Morgan assumes she and Nokavik are.”
“Why would she assume that?” My head is spinning as it dissects every interaction over the last few weeks. I never explicitly told her I wanted to be exclusive, but I thought it was obvious. I text her every day. We talk about everything under the sun, and if that kiss the other night is any indication, our chemistry is off the charts.
“I don’t understand. I haven’t treated her as if she’s casual. We haven’t even had sex yet because I want her to know I think of her as more than a hookup.”
I am greeted by a chorus of “ohhhs.”
“She probably thinks you aren’t interested, dude,” Connor says. “A girl like her is used to men leading with sex. No sex equals no interest.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I grit out, not liking the implications he’s making about Morgan.
“He doesn’t mean anything by it,” Fitz quickly explains. “He’s simply pointing out that this is LA, and based on the J. Crew-reject she was dating, she is used to less honorable men than you. It’s giving her mixed messages. Women assume men are less interested than they are while men assume the opposite.”
Huh. That makes sense. “So she thinks that I don”t want her because I’m not treating her badly? That because I haven’t fucked her, I must not be interested in her and she should find someone who is?”
My agitation is growing the longer this conversation continues. My chest is so tight, I am afraid it’s going to squeeze my heart until it bursts. The pang of guilt that Morgan thinks I don’t want her is only overshadowed by rage at anyone else who thinks they can touch her.
“No,” Fitz answers. “But since you haven’t made your intentions clear, I’m sure she doesn’t want to get her hopes up that you want something serious. Come on, man. You’re on your way to being in the Hockey Hall of Fame. Only a very confident or foolish woman would presume to be in your league.”
“She’s not in my league. She’s way above it.”
“Then there is only one thing to do,” Connor declares, downing the rest of his beer. “Let’s go get your girl.”
After an hour in LA traffic,we’re finally bypassing the line at Clamatis. It’s packed, but Mikelson was able to reserve the last VIP booth thanks to Cherri, who also works here. The guys head to our table while I make a beeline to the stunning girl in the shiny black romper.
The dazzling grin that spreads across her face stops me in my tracks momentarily as I drink her in. When she breaks the spell to pass drinks to the table in front of her, I remember my mission and stomp forward.
“We need to talk,” I say when I’m close enough for her to hear me. The smile that covers her face falls as the brightness in her eyes dims incrementally. I want to kick myself for taking away part of her shine, but I am too worked up to apologize right now. She nods her head and leads me to a back hallway into an employee bathroom.
“Couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see me?” she teases, but there is a vulnerability in her tone that lets through her discomfort. I hate that she doubts my desire to see her, but I am about to change that.
I step toward her until she is backed against the tile wall of the bathroom. “No. I couldn’t wait. The guys pointed out tonight that there could be a misunderstanding on your end about what is happening between the two of us.”
“‘What’s happening,’” she repeats.
I watch her swallow, wanting to kiss down her throat. Instead of fighting the instinct, I sink my hand into her hair and tip her head to the side to gain better access. I shove my knee between her legs, pinning her to the wall with my body.
“Mhmm,” I hum, running my nose against her delicate flesh. “It seems you may think this thing between us is casual.”
“It’s not?” Her hands move to fist my shirt to ground her no doubt. I lightly bite on her tendon in reprimand of her question before soothing the mark with my tongue.
“No, Zlatí?ko. What’s happening here is so official, it needs its own tux.” My mouth trails up to her ear as I continue to correct her misconceptions. “I apologize if my attempts to be a gentleman didn’t make my intentions clear. Let me do that now.”
I push back and tilt her head until we are eye to eye. “I want you. I want this. Officially, exclusively, whatever the fuck I need to say as long as it means you are mine and no one else’s. Do you understand?”
Her lusty but befuddled expression tells me she does not. “You want to fuck me?”
“I want to fuck you until you forget the name of every other man you’ve ever met, let alone slept with. But I also want you. To hold you. To date you. To fight with you. To listen to you talk about those ridiculous Housewives who pretend to be friends despite hating each other. I want all of you all the time.”
“I’m a lot,” she whispers, spearing me again with her vulnerability.
“Good, ”cause I’ll never be able to get enough,” I reply against her lips. I take advantage of her intake of air to plunge my tongue into her mouth and ravage her with a kiss. I use the hand still in her hair to keep her exactly where I want her and claim her with my mouth. It takes a second, but she melts into my hold, her tongue meeting mine stroke for stroke but never fighting for dominance. If our last kiss was an exploration, this one is a possession. I groan against her lips when she unknowingly bucks her hips against my thigh, seeking friction.
When I break the kiss, pressing my forehead to hers. I see need swimming in her eyes that mirrors mine. “I want you.”
“Yes,” she mutters, making me laugh.
“But I’m not fucking you for the first time in a bathroom when you still have three hours left in your shift.”
She whines at my statement. And the sound goes straight to my dick.
“You need me, baby?”
“Yes. That kiss was…” her confession trails off.
“Get used to it.” I smirk as her legs clench tighter around mine. I retake her mouth with less vigor but no less conviction. I smile into it as she grinds against my thigh in earnest.
“Did my declaration get you hot and bothered, Morgan? You need something?”
“Yes, you.”
“Can’t have me right now,” I reply, pressing my leg into her harder and shifting the angle. The heat from her core sears me through my jeans.
“If you were wearing a dress,” I say between kisses, “I could finger your sweet little pussy until you came for me. Or I could drop to my knees and let you ride my face.”
“That, let’s do that.”
“This sexy little number you’re wearing is too tight for that.”
“Take it off,” she insists, attempting to push me back and remove the offending garment.
“Stop,” I groan, and her eyes shoot to mine. Instead of giving her time to question my desire for her, I retake her lips and move my hands to her hips.
“If you get naked, I won’t be able to stop myself from taking you.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“It is if you want to leave this bathroom anytime soon.”
“Leaving is overrated,” she huffs.
“I’ll come over tonight if you aren’t too tired. Or we can wait until our date tomorrow,” I suggest.
Another whine slips out. “I need you now. Show me you want me.”
The hard dick in my pants is screaming at me to listen, but I will never forgive myself if our first time is in a club bathroom.
“Can’t fuck you,” I grit. “But I can make you come on my thigh. How does that sound, Zlatí?ko? Think I can rub your hot pussy and get you off? I wonder if I can get you to moan loud enough that the assholes who’ve been eyeing you all night know you’re taken.”
She lets out a garbled “Yes!” as I use my grasp on her hips to move her up and down my thigh. I know no one will be able to hear her over the music but damn if I don’t wish they could. It occurs to me that she never acknowledged what we are and I need to know we’re on the same page.
“Tell me you’re mine, and I’ll make you come so hard you soak my jeans. Tell me you understand that this sweet body is mine and only mine, and I’ll give you what you want.”
“Yours,” she mewls, chest heaving. “I’m yours.”
“All mine. And I’m yours.”
Her confirmation has me quickening my pace. When her hands grip my shoulder tighter, I know she’s close.
“That’s it, baby. Come for your man. Show me how hot it makes you to be mine.” It only takes a few more seconds for her to let out a choked sob as her orgasm overtakes her.
My kisses turn soft as she comes down, and I release her hips. My thigh remains in place to hold her up as my hands rub down her sides. Her glassy gaze meets mine, and I can’t help but smile at how gorgeous she is blissed out. I hate the thought that she has to go back out into a crowded club. I should demand she leave with me now, but I don’t want to come off as a controlling asshole.
“Wow,” she finally says. “I can’t say I’m surprised that the best orgasm I’ve ever had is in a club bathroom, but I never thought it would be without someone else touching me. You put all my other bathroom escapades to shame.”
I growl at the comment and nip at her lip, pinching her butt playfully. “Don’t worry, Zlatí?ko. It won’t be that way for long. You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“Can I see more tonight?”
I nod. “I imagine the guys will want to spend the rest of the night here. I can follow you home after.”
“I forgot they were here. You need to go back to them right now! They probably think we’re in here fucking.”
I give her an amused expression. Wasn’t she begging me to do just that moments ago?
“They’re fine,” I assure her. “We’ll go back out there when you’re ready.”
“Ready?” she questions before catching her reflection in the mirror over my shoulder and gasping. “I looked wrecked!”
A swell of pride erupts inside me. Her pink lipstick is smudged, her hair is disheveled, and her romper is out of whack.
“No need to be cocky about it,” she grumbles.
“You’ll see how cocky I am later.”
She ushers me out of the bathroom. “Go back out there. I need to reapply my lipstick and fix this mess.”
“You are beautiful.” I nip at her jaw.
“You only think that because you made me this way. Now shoo, I’ll come see you after I check on all my tables.”
I kiss her until we’re breathless one last time before leaving. My friends wisely say nothing when I rejoin them, and we spend the rest of the night enjoying ourselves while I watch my golden goddess float around the club.