12. Chapter 12
Chapter 12
Walker
I wake up with the most painful boner of my life. Usually a little morning wood isn’t a problem because it goes away once I get on with my day, but this one needs immediate attention. I was right in the middle of a dream that involved Morgan riding my cock in reverse while I pulled her cheeks apart and fingered her tight little hole. I’ve always been an ass man, and the moment she said she was into it also, I knew she could possibly destroy me.
Groaning, I roll onto my back. The last thing I should be thinking about is what gets her off.
It was one thing to open up with her last night, but it’s an entirely separate matter to cross the physical boundary that we’ve been dancing around since the party. That’s why I played the friend card—to remind myself of who I am, no matter how intense the pull is between us.
At the engagement party, I nearly gave in to Morgan’s temptation and acted on impulse. But I reined myself in at the last moment and walked away, knowing I couldn’t be what any woman needs. And ever since then, it’s like every time I’m around her, she tries to challenge me on that belief. It’s like she sees something in me that I don’t, and it takes all of my practiced control to hold back .
But it’s really fucking hard to find the strength to resist her when I know she’s naked in my bed, probably rubbing her sweet scent all over my cotton sheets.
I open my phone to check the clock.
Five in the morning.
I need to get up and relieve this tension in my body.
Pushing myself to a seated position, I hear a creak and can’t decide if it’s my neck or the door to my master bedroom. When soft light suddenly floods the hallway, I quickly tuck my throbbing erection into the waistband of my sweats and grab a pillow from the couch, tossing it over my crotch for good measure.
“You’re up early,” I say casually, watching Morgan walk toward me as she rubs her sleepy eyes.
“Girls gotta work,” she replies, not meeting my gaze as she continues into the kitchen to search for her shoes.
My body tenses. “Morgan?”
She stops, innocently peering over at me. “Yes?”
“Did we not go over this last night?” My tone drops an octave, the way it often seems to do around her.
Despite the light from the hallway, it’s still dim in the house. I can just make out the corner of her lips curving into a smirk. “Go over what?”
She ’ s going to be the death of me.
I take a deep breath as my heart begins to thunder in my chest. “You were going to call in,” I remind her.
Her blatant disregard for her safety is one thing, but it fucking pisses me off how she is pretending like she doesn’t remember our conversation—we had an agreement.
“Was I?” she asks sweetly. “Because I actually don’t recall promising that. ”
My mind rapidly turns over our conversation from last night, thinking back on everything that was said. I come to the conclusion that while she is technically right and she never verbally agreed to call in, the implication was definitely there.
Morgan starts moving toward the front door, and I find myself on my feet in an instant, physically barricading her from the only exit to my home.
She stops in front of me, lifting her chin in challenge. Her nostrils flare like she’s the one that’s frustrated here, when really it should be the other way around. All I’m trying to do is keep her safe, and she’s hell-bent on putting herself in harm’s way.
“What are you going to do, Walker?” she goads, her emerald eyes glimmering with daring ferocity. “Force me to stay? Tie me to your bed? No. You won’t do that because you don’t have it in you. Now get out of my way. I’m going to work.”
I snap, finally freeing the part of me that she’s been feeding for months. Reaching out, I wrap one hand around her delicate throat while the other snakes around her waist, pulling her body flush against mine.
“Be very careful, little devil,” I rasp in her ear, “I told you that I like you, but I’m about thirty seconds away from treating you like I don’t. Are you sure you want to keep pushing me?”
Her chest heaves with heavy, frustrated breaths as my thumb gently presses on her pounding pulse. And though the flame in her eyes flickers in answer to my question, she doesn’t immediately respond. Instead, she lets out a forced laugh, like she’s taunting me with her irreverence for the situation.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she answers callously, gripping my wrist in her tiny hand. “ Friend . ”
It’s like she knows exactly what I was trying to do by drawing that line in the sand between us, and she’s stomping right on it.
Every boundary I’ve tried to set with her, every dark impulse that I’ve tried to hold back is eviscerated in an instant.
I turn my head and capture her mouth with mine. Her lips are soft, pillowy, and fucking perfect as I press hard against them, kissing her like I’ve never kissed anyone in my life.
Morgan doesn’t fight back like I’m expecting. Instead, she leans into me like my kiss is exactly what she’s been waiting for. She lets out a desperate moan against my lips that sounds like fucking velvet as it ricochets through my mouth, and I can practically taste her desire as it travels down my throat.
As much as I want to give in to her baiting force, to show her what I’ve been holding back for months, I’m also a man who delivers on his promises.
She’s about to find out what happens when she walks into the lion’s den.
Pulling back from her lips, I bend low like I’m about to tackle her petite frame, only instead of taking her to the ground, I shove my shoulder into her waist and stand. My arm wraps around her knees, holding them tightly against my chest as I walk toward the master bedroom at the back of the house.
“Put. Me. Down,” she breaths, dramatically beating her fists against my back.
I don’t answer, bending slightly so she doesn’t hit the frame of the door to my bedroom.
Tossing her on the mattress, I flick on the gold sconce lights that I drilled into the brick behind the bed and turn to dig through the middle drawer of my dark wood dresser .
I’ve worn a tie maybe ten times in my life—for my parents’ funerals, my college and med school graduations, and a few interviews in between. Most of the time I prefer to go with the whole open collar look since it’s more casual.
But it turns out I’m suddenly feeling very formal.
I slip two neckties into the pocket of my sweats and spin back around, my eyes falling on the devil in my bedroom. She’s leaning back on her forearms and wearing a shit-eating grin. Her cheeks are flushed slightly pink, probably from being held upside down over my shoulder, and all I can think about is how I want to do things to her that will only make that color richer.
“Something funny?” I ask, dipping my knee on the edge of the mattress in warning. She won’t be amused in a minute—not when she’s stuck writhing beneath me.
“You’re so predictable,” she says, eyes briefly falling to the bulge between my legs before returning to mine. In the commotion, my erection sprung free from the confines of my waistband and is now pointing directly at her.
“Am I?”
“Mhmmm,” she sings, clearly enjoying herself.
“Call out of work,” I repeat my instruction from earlier because this might be a game to her, but itit’s not one to me.
Her slightly swollen lips purse, a squeaky sound flowing through them like she’s considering my order. “I think not.”
I crawl on top of her body, caging her beneath me. Her breaths are steady, like she’s not at all afraid of this predatory part of me that she purposely unleashed.
She should be.
“Call out,” I growl, leaning down to nip at her earlobe.
I can practically hear her pounding pulse beneath my lips as I kiss her jawline—Morgan isn’t as in control as she’d like for me to think.
She gasps almost imperceptibly as I hover inches above her lips, unable to mask her desperation for more. Our eyes bore into one another, daring each other for something that we aren’t quite willing to give ourselves.
Her eyes narrow. “Make me.”
I don’t think—I just act. Sliding my arms beneath hers, I drag her body up the sheets so forcefully that her head lightly thuds against the black metal frame. I grip her wrist in one hand and raise it above her head, securing her to the top of the bed with one of my silk ties. She doesn’t fight me, though I doubt she could in this situation considering I overpower her substantially in strength and sheer size.
Repeating the process with her other arm, I sit back on my heels and admire my handiwork. The silk isn’t tight enough to cut off blood flow, but it doesn’t allow for much movement either. While this isn’t something I’ve done before, it does the job like I intend—she won’t be going anywhere.
“Good luck getting to work now,” I taunt, noticing the way her nipples have pebbled under the thin material of my T-shirt.
I want to reach out to pinch them, to tease her now that she’s at my mercy. Instead, I stifle the urge and slowly run my hands along her thighs, enjoying the way she needily squirms beneath my touch.
She lets out a hesitant laugh. “Looking for weapons or something? ”
I ignore her joke and dig my fingers into her pockets, pulling her phone out of the right side. My other hand remains on her hip, digging into the crease of her leg possessively.
Opening her phone, I search for the charge nurse’s number.
Morgan’s face goes pale, all amusement and self-satisfaction instantly dissipating when I press the speaker button and let it ring.
“Who are you calling?” she hisses quietly, tugging at the restraints on her wrists.
I don’t respond, holding the device out until an exhausted voice answers, “Midtown Memorial ER, this is Marisa.”
The vibrant green eyes beneath me go wide as silence settles on the line. “Hello?” the charge nurse says after a moment.
Finally, Morgan clears her throat and speaks, shifting her attention to the ceiling like she’s afraid to look at me. “Sorry girl. Didn’t mean to dial your number.”
I feel my jaw clench but before I can say anything, the woman on the other end says, “No worries. You have second thoughts and decide to come in? We could always use you, though Lauren and Allanah were able to make it.”
I blow out a long, hard breath as the situation registers in my brain.
The little devil baited me.
“Oh good,” Morgan replies weakly. “No . . . I think the ice is still bad here, so it wouldn’t be safe to drive in.”
Her gaze slowly drops to meet mine as her shoulders draw up apologetically.
“Totally understand. GDOT was able to put salt down on most of the surface streets near the hospital, but I doubt they got to the neighborhoods yet. Most of the people who came in live super close. It’s a skeleton crew, but we should make it. When are you back?”
“Uh, I think in a few days.”
“Nice,” the charge nurse responds as someone yells in the background. “Well, I’ll let you go. I would say enjoy your snow day, but there’s no fucking snow.”
Morgan lets out a forced laugh. “Yeah. Sorry again. See you next week.”
I end the call, dropping the phone on the bed as I wait for her to say something. All she does is blink up at me with those irresistible, wide eyes, now filled with reluctant uncertainty, like she’s expecting me to yell. When I remain silent, her mouth curls into a half-smile.
“You think this is funny?” I finally ask, my voice low and controlled as I try to keep my emotions in check.
Her tongue darts over her bottom lip. “I mean kind of,” she says, amusement slowly transforming to guilt. “I knew you’d be upset if I tried to go into work, and I was trying to make a point.”
“And what point is that?” I spit.
“That I’m not going to break, or run away, or whatever it is that you think will happen if you touch me. We’ve been skirting this line for two months, Walker, and every time it feels like you’re about to make a move, you pull back. It’s confusing as fuck, so I figured if you want to play games, I will too.”
“That’s what you think?” I ask, feeling my pulse skyrocket. I tug my hand away, worried that I’ll bruise her if I keep it on her hip. “That I’m playing a goddamn game here?”
Morgan frowns, her gaze drifting to the wall beside her as she shifts beneath me. “I mean you called me your friend last night and then said it was too bad. That’s kind of confusing. ”
I lurch forward so that my face is inches from hers. “Hey, look at me.”
She doesn’t listen, because of course she doesn’t—nothing is easy with this infuriating woman.
Reaching out, I hook her chin with my thumb and two fingers.
“Look at me,” I repeat, waiting for her to follow my instructions. When her eyes finally meet mine, I continue, “I called you my friend because you had a shitty day, and I wanted to take care of you. Because I care about you. Because I told myself that if you were just my friend, I wouldn’t cross that line with you physically.”
Morgan huffs, blowing hot air onto my hand. “There’s nothing physical between us.”
My grip on her chin tightens. “That’s a fucking lie, and you know it. You know how I know you’re lying?”
“How?”
“Because believe it or not, I’m so in tune with you that it’s almost painful.”
Her eyes roll as a disbelieving laugh escapes her lips. “Sure you are.”
“You have no fucking idea,” I confess, rubbing my thumb along her jawline. “I hear the way your breath slightly catches when I get close, like I make you nervous, but you’re too damn confident to show it. I see the way your body tenses when I look at you, like you’re uncomfortable with my attention but not anyone else’s. I smell the way your body reacts to my touch, like it’s desperate for more even if you won’t admit to it. There isn’t a thing about you, little devil, that I don’t notice.”
A whirlwind of emotion swirls in her eyes as I watch her bravado fade. “You do? ”
“Every fucking detail,” I answer, my voice soft but firm. “It’s infuriating, actually, because it means that I can’t ignore you, no matter how hard I try. And believe me, I’ve tried.”
Her lips part, but no words come out. Instead, she swallows hard, like she’s trying to digest the intensity of my admission.
“Why?” her question slips out, almost inaudible.
“Why what?” I prompt.
“Why would you try to ignore me?”
“Besides the obvious that we work together?” I joke with a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the mood even though our professional relationship is the last thing I’m actually worried about.
I release her chin and sit back on my heels, thinking for a moment before I continue, “Because I’m damaged, Morgan. Because I only officially got divorced two days ago. Because I can’t be what you need me to be.”
I don’t mean to be so honest, but the words just spill out.
I’ve made peace with my ruined marriage. It killed me that I failed the one person I promised my life to, that I couldn’t be enough. But I’ve gotten over the pain and resigned myself to the reality of who I am—a man who can’t love anyone properly. And Morgan deserves so much more than that.
“Are you done?” she asks, looking more assured than she did moments ago.
“Yeah?”
“Good.” She nods her head. “First of all, everyone’s a little damaged. That doesn’t make us bad people—it just means we’ve experienced life. Nobody gets out unscathed.”
Morgan pauses, sucking on her full bottom lip. “Second of all, we can be friends while still giving in to the physical attraction between us. ”
“I don’t—” I start, but she interrupts.
“Listen, I have no desire to be in a relationship. Not now. Not ever. So when you think about it, we’re kind of in the same boat here.”
“Okay. . .” I trail off, trying to choose my words carefully. “So you want to be physical without a relationship?”
I don’t know what I’m struggling to understand about this—she doesn’t want anything serious, and I can’t give her anything serious.
She laughs and rolls her striking green eyes. “Yes, boomer—it’s called being friends with benefits.”
“I’m only thirty-one,” I correct, shooting her a warning look. “And right now I’m not seeing any of the benefits associated with this friendship.”
“Me either.” She matches my glare in challenge. “Untie me.”
While her innate defiance reignited my arousal, there’s not a chance in hell I’m pushing any more boundaries with her today—we should take some time to think about this.I haven’t been intimate with anyone other than my ex-wife, and while I have no doubt that I want to explore this with Morgan, she also has a way of bringing out parts of me that I’ve never tapped into. She isn’t a sweet, steady lover like I once had. She’s a passion-fuelled flame that burns blindingly bright. But just because I want to make sure I’m ready to feel her fire, doesn’t mean that I can’t have a tiny bit of fun to make her reconsider testing me earlier.
I press my erection into her center, my tone lowering to a rasp. “You think you deserve to be untied?”
She squirms beneath me, trying to grind against my dick. “ Duh.”
“Hmm,” I muse, looking up at the ties like I’m considering her request. “Only good girls get untied. Do you really think you’ve been a good girl? Or have you been a filthy little cock tease?”
Her breath catches but she tips her chin up in challenge. “Depends on your definition of good.”
I feel my dick pulse with arousal knowing that she’s completely at my mercy, that she can’t do anything other than take what I’m giving her, and yet she still chooses to bite back. It’s like the tension from our everyday banter seamlessly transitioned to our sexual dynamic, and it sends a rich thrill through me—maybe this could work.
“Wrong answer,” I tut, slowly scooting down the bed. “Try again. This time with an apology.”
Morgan watches me silently, as if she’s hedging my bet and doesn’t believe that I’ll actually leave her tied up.
She’s wrong.
If there’s one thing I excel at, it’s patience. I have no problem spending the time it takes to teach her a lesson, waiting for her to submit to me. I would wait all goddamn day if I had to, and just as the thought crosses my mind that I might have to, she opens her mouth.
“Okay, okay,” she relents with a huff, like she’s come to some sort of internal decision. “Fine.”
I arch my eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
“I shouldn’t have pretended that I was going in to work this morning when I had already called out. I did it to get a rise out of you, and it wasn’t nice, especially when you were just looking out for me.” She sucks in a breath that sounds almost painful before saying, “I’m sorry. ”
I want to grin, but I keep my mouth set in a firm line. “So what does that mean, little devil? Were you good, or were you bad?”
Her eyes flare with reflexive fire before they close. “Bad.”
Adrenaline shoots through my veins at her submission. I love the way that I had to work for it—how she taunted me before eventually giving in.
“And what happens to bad girls?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes you do,” I prod. “What happens to bad girls in those books you read?”
The color of Morgan’s cheeks deepens to a rich shade of red, like she’s somehow embarrassed to say what she’s thinking out loud.
I repeat the question, and she finally meets my gaze, her voice quiet as she says, “They get punished.”
A dark part of me that I’m beginning to enjoy vibrates with pleasure. “And what do you think an appropriate punishment is here?”
Her legs shuffle, searching for friction because she’s just as turned on as I am. But that’s not what this is about—this is about us trying something together that’s either going to work beautifully, or blow up in our faces. This is about something so much bigger.
“Uh,” she mumbles breathily. “You’ve honestly got me there.”
“Well, I think two punishments are in order here.”
“Do you?” Morgan mocks, though she doesn’t roll her eyes again like I’m expecting.
“I do,” I confirm. “First, you’re going to beg me to untie you.”
“Easy,” she answers confidently as her lips kick up into a grin. “Untie me.”
I can’t help but smile at her directness, her ability to play along while still maintaining her inherent defiance. “Oh, I think you can do better than that.”
She sighs dramatically. “My arms are tired from being held up, and I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t do it again. Please untie me, Sir .”
She says the last word sarcastically but the formality of it makes my cock ache.
“That’s a good girl.” I wink at her before I begin to move up the bed.
Her eyes follow me hesitantly. “What’s the second punishment?”
“The second punishment,” I echo, leaning down. I carefully loosen the makeshift restraints, my fingers lightly grazing her skin as I work to remove the silk ties. “Is actually untying you.”
Morgan sits up, gently rubbing her wrists. The look she gives me is one of gratitude mixed with slight trepidation. “How is that a punishment?”
I grab her hand, helping her off the bed before I check her skin for marks. There’s only a small amount of redness on her wrists, but it should go away quickly. I may not be experienced in bondage, but the physician in me knows that you have to be wary of circulation with stuff like this. I’ve heard about far too many sexual accidents from colleagues of mine in the ER over the years to not take safety seriously.
“It’s a punishment,” I finally answer, running my fingers gently up her arms, “because I know that if I slipped my fingers under the waistband of those sweatpants that you’re wearing, I’d find your needy pussy soaking wet. It’s a punishment because you’re desperate for a release that I’m not going to give you. ”
Goosebumps erupt in the wake of my touch, but she steps back and crosses her arms irritatedly. “You’re the worst. Why wouldn’t you just spank me or something?”
I huff an exasperated laugh. “Something tells me that wouldn’t be an effective punishment for you. It’s not supposed to be fun—that’s why it’s called a punishment,” I explain, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. “Come on, I’m walking you home.”