Chapter 14
M y plans to pick up Morgan and arrive at the ball together were squashed the second he told me he had to be there early. I understood it. He was one of the hosts. But that didn’t mean I was happy about it. It meant we’d once again be driving separately, and I’d been hoping to take him home. Well, just because we were in separate cars didn’t mean I couldn’t follow him back to his place when the night was over.
The Winter Ball was indeed a fancy affair. A catered meal and dancing, but at a cost of a hundred dollars a head. Part of that went to the event itself, though the town subsidized some of it. The rest went to the Wayfair Equine Sanctuary. Harris had founded it practically the second his old man left. What was particularly sad was that the first horses Harris needed to help were some of the Ranch’s own herd. My opinion of Roger Emery had always been low, but when I heard that, I knew that if I ever came face to face with the man again, I was likely to break his jaw.
Now Harris focused his attention on neglected and abused horses. Those he could rehabilitate and bring back to health were adopted out to good homes. If for some reason a horse couldn’t be adopted, it had a permanent home on the Ranch. Morgan had mentioned that Harris’s rescue herd was up to twenty now. Apparently there was also a pair of zebras that had been owned illegally and a camel. The camel’s name was George and he liked to steal hats.
Morgan had been downright giddy when he relayed that fact.
I shined my shoes, glad that there still wasn’t much snow to speak of, took a shower, dressed, and was ready to go by 1945. I stepped out of my room to find Arlo waiting for me. He looked good in his black suit, though it was a little ill-fitting in the arms, and he’d donned a clip-on bowtie for the occasion.
He smiled when he saw me and his eyes filled fast. But the tears didn’t fall. His voice was gruff when he found it. “I’m so proud of you, Bear.”
“Thanks.” I stepped closer. “Is my chest candy straight?”
Arlo fussed with it even though I knew it had been perfect. I let him, since it seemed like he needed a moment. My service ribbons weren’t as copious as some but I had my fair share. The only thing new was the retired military badge. My retirement didn’t mean I didn’t represent the Corps, though, and so everything had to be up to protocol. Technically, evening dress would have been more appropriate for this event, but I hadn’t had that uniform in years, so the dress blues would have to do.
“There.” Arlo cleared his throat. “I thought we could ride together?”
“Sounds good.” It would mean I’d have to cram myself into Morgan’s tiny car again, but it was a short ride. I’d survive. Of course, everything around here was a short ride. I adjusted my belt, glanced down to make sure everything was right, and tucked my cover under my arm. I was skipping outerwear tonight. I could freeze for the few minutes when I was in the cold.
I drove, not having a problem with Arlo driving my SUV back. Neither of us talked on the way, but the silence was comfortable. I didn’t even think of turning on the radio until we were almost there. It had always been like that between us. We could just exist without needing to fill the silence. It was probably my fault for how I acted as a kid, but Arlo never made me feel bad about it.
The Ranch was lit up when we arrived, lighting the way down the long drive and then away from the house to the party barn. At least that’s what Morgan had called it. And it did look somewhat like a barn, but far too fancy to house animals. There were lights strung in the trees that lined this part of the drive, some sort of pine I didn’t know the name of. It looked very much like a Hallmark movie.
There were several cars idling in front of us, and when the line moved, I saw why. Valet parking, which I guess made sense. No one wanted to trek across possibly muddy fields in dress shoes or heels. It didn’t take long for us to make it to the front of the line, and both Arlo and I got out. I situated my cover, waited for Arlo to round the vehicle, and we headed to the doors, which were open. My instant thought was that they were letting the heat out, but then I saw a second set of doors, as well as space heaters. They’d really thought of everything.
Morgan stood next to Harris and two women, greeting guests as they arrived. He finished what he was saying to the lady in the red sparkly gown, then turned his smile in our direction. He froze, but honestly, so did I. His tuxedo had tails, fit him like a glove, accentuating all his lines, and he had a real bowtie. The cummerbund was a nice touch, more traditional than a vest, and really showed off his assets. I wanted to drag him off somewhere and do unspeakable things to him.
Morgan apparently had the same idea, because his pupils were blown when I stepped in close.
“Dress uniform?” His voice squeaked just a touch.
I smiled lazily. “You said it was formal.”
“Yes, but, dress uniform ?” He sucked in a breath, then lowered his voice. “You didn’t warn me. This tux jacket hides nothing .”
“You’ll survive.” I leaned in, just so I could smell him. I slid a hand to his waist. “You look fantastic, Morgan. Stunning. I can’t wait to take you home later.”
He let out the tiniest whimper, which Harris must have heard. I saw him do a double take out of my periphery, then move to intercept the next set of guests. I used that as my cue to herd Morgan back a few steps, further into the entryway. It was a little more shadowed here, and I knew people were going to talk, but I didn’t give a flying fuck.
Morgan gripped my arm, fingers digging into my elbow. “Can you kiss me? Is that allowed?”
I frowned, not understanding. “Because I’m in uniform? Regs say as long as I’m not on duty, then it’s fine. As long as it’s not salacious.” I let my smile grow. “And since I’m retired, I’m definitely not on duty.”
He stopped me before I could dip down. “Not because of the uniform, idiot. Which, by the way, you’re absolutely keeping on later.” He shook his head as though to clear it. “Because people are going to see and they will talk.”
In answer, I kissed him. Slow and sweet, because I was in uniform and while there were no superiors to reprimand me, I still respected the uniform. He melted into me, gave me his weight, and let me control the kiss. When I pulled back, he licked his lips.
“How long do you have to stay out here?”
It took him a few seconds to answer. I liked to think I’d short-circuited his brain. He touched my service ribbons, then the buttons on the jacket, before he looked up and met my gaze. “Until everyone arrives. So who knows? You and Arlo are at table one with me.”
He sounded dazed, and I needed to help him get his game face back on. I thought fast. “Who else is at that table? Am I going to be bored?”
Morgan laughed, the sweet one he let out when he thought I was being ridiculous. Good. That was what I wanted. When he spoke, he sounded more like himself.
“Harris. Marianne and Christopher Wentz. They own The Marquis. They’re…” He waved a hand, brushing that aside. I wouldn’t like them. Noted. Morgan wasn’t done. “Lisa and Eddie Costa. They own—”
“Costa’s, yeah. I know.” I winked.
He snickered and gestured to the two ladies who were also greeting guests. “And Janice and Lucette Reinhart-Jones. They’re friends of Harris’s who helped him get the Sanctuary off the ground.”
“All right.” At least with Lisa there, I wouldn’t be bored. And it was a good opportunity to speak to Harris as well. I liked what he was doing here and wanted to offer support. “You need to get back to work. I’ll see you in there.”
“Count on it. Now get your sexy uniformed ass away from me.” That last bit was whispered, so I hope no one heard. He gave me a quick peck and pushed me away. I went.
Harris and the Reinhart-Joneses were busy with a new onslaught of guests, so I bypassed them and headed inside. I removed my cover and looked around. It was tastefully decorated with even more lights, silver accents, and poinsettia arrangements on every table. A string quartet played softly in the corner, and I instantly recognized classical versions of Christmas hit songs. I’d bet money on that being Morgan’s doing.
The tables were arranged around a dance floor that was currently empty. I expected that part of the evening came later. A bar graced one wall where black-shirted bartenders were passing out drinks. I spotted Arlo already seated at a table at the top of the room. He had a glass of something in front of him, so I made my way toward the table by way of the bar.
I wasn’t going to get drunk, but a little liquid courage would help me through the night.
“ W here’s your hat?”
Morgan’s voice in my ear made me jump. I hadn’t heard him sneak up behind me. It was just too loud in here, with a hundred and fifty people chatting, the string quartet, and the occasional clinking of glassware.
I turned and took him in. He looked even better in this lighting. It had been dim in the entryway. And though it wasn’t overly bright in the room—the ceiling fixtures had LED bulbs, not fluorescent—it still illuminated him well. He was gorgeous.
I pointed to where I’d set it on the table, above my place setting. “I’m not under arms, so therefore, inside, protocol dictates I’m not under cover.”
Morgan blinked those blue eyes at me, not an ounce of comprehension on his face. I hoped no one heard the literal snort of laughter that escaped me.
“I’m not wearing my sword, so since I’m not outside, the hat comes off,” I clarified.
“Um.” He swallowed hard and dropped his clasped hands in front of his pants. “You have a sword?”
“Technically. But now it’s a wall ornament. Or will be.”
He nodded like that made sense, but I could tell his brain was working. “So. Outside means hat on?”
I squinted at him. “It does, yes. What are you—”
The music stopped and Morgan jumped. “Oh. Shoot. Dinner’s about to start. I have to…yes. I’m making words. No. I mean.” He took a breath. “I need to give a little speech. Because I’m a host. It’s my job.”
And off he went to the front of the room, where a mic stood on a stand. I didn’t fight the laughter. He was something else tonight.
T he food was good, if a little fancy for my tastes. I knew I’d be hungry again in a few hours. The best part was that Morgan kept his foot against mine the entire time. I especially liked it when he slipped his hand to my thigh. Never for longer than a moment or two, but it was as though he just had to touch me.
The second-best part was that Lisa made her husband switch seats with her. She was as funny as I remembered. Her one liners about some of the guest had me cracking up. Eddie matched her energy well, and I could see why they’d been married for nineteen years and counting. She showed me pictures of her other two children, since I’d met Jess already, and called her middle son an “angsty piece of crap.” It was said with such love and affection, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Weren’t we all at that age?” I commented.
She pressed her shoulder to mine. “Some of us had more reasons than others.”
Yeah. Maybe.
Lisa reminisced about high school. She brought back so many memories, most of which I’d entirely forgotten. That might have been on purpose. I hadn’t been as involved as she’d been, but there were plenty of moments we’d both been present for. Things that, at the time, were funny, but looking back…well they were still funny but also stupid. Like the time Wesley Adams brought his pig to school and tried to convince everyone it was a service animal. The thing had to have been like two hundred pounds and didn’t do anything but squeal.
Eddie was smiling at her indulgently as she launched into the story about the school play that had gone so wrong all the actors cried and walked off stage, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Morgan was standing now and he had my cover in one hand.
“Pardon me for interrupting.” He smiled at Lisa, then focused on me. “Can I borrow you for a minute?”
“Sure.” I stood up and followed him as he weaved through the tables and headed straight for the door. The moment we stepped into the frigid air, he held up my cover.
“Outside means hat.”
I chuckled, low and deep, and he shivered. Though that could be because of the temperature. I very deliberately set my cover on my head, adjusting it just so. His pupils dilated and his breathing picked up.
“Yeah. That’ll do.”
“Why, Morgan Hawley, are you a tag chaser?” I drawled.
“I don’t know what that means. I can guess, though.” His lips quirked up and he looked me up and down. “I never thought so. Maybe I’m just a you chaser. You look so fucking hot.”
“Is that so?”
He didn’t answer, just grabbed my hand and hauled me after him. He clearly knew where he was going. Either because he’d been here before or because he’d already scoped out the perfect spot. Maybe a combination of both. He led me away from the barn, down a dimly lit path, and past the field filled with cars. The trail was narrow here, hard packed dirt, but he kept walking until all the sounds from the party and the lights faded away. It was a clear sky though, so the stars were out in full force. Despite the biting cold, my blood was on fire.
Morgan finally stopped in the shelter of a large tree, next to a lean-to type building. He turned fast, and then he was on me, kissing me hard, brutally. Our teeth clacked together, and I swear, he tried to climb into my skin.
Damn but he was needy. I knew just what to do about it too.
I crouched down until I was eye level with his zipper. I put his hands on my shoulders. He was staring down at me, his lust filled gaze heating me up even more. “Hold on to me.”
He nodded. I went to work, zipper down but pants not unhooked, and I found the opening in the front of his boxer briefs to pull out his cock. I wasted no time and I didn’t play around. He needed to come and fast. I sucked him for all I was worth, employing every trick of tongue and teeth that I knew. He was panting, leaking, and holding on for dear life.
I was still in good shape but my quads could only hold this position for so long before they started to protest. And as the host of the ball, or one of them, Morgan’s absence would be noticed. He was close, but not close enough. I wiggled my hand in through his zipper, pushed it between his legs, and massaged his taint.
Morgan was loud. He was a screamer. He made all the most delicious noises when we were in bed together. But he clamped his lips shut so not even a whimper could escape as he came in my mouth. His whole body tensed and he bowed forward over my head.
When I was sure he was done, I licked him clean quickly, then tucked him back in. His boxers were probably a little sticky since he’d been leaking before I pulled him out, but it wouldn’t show. I’d been very careful not to crease or wrinkle anything. Not a speck of dirt or hint of evidence could be found.
I stood up, and Morgan kissed me again, this time searching for every taste of himself in my mouth. He moved his hand, but I could tell the trajectory, and grabbed his wrist before he could make contact with my cock.
“I’m fine,” I murmured, not wanting to part our lips. I was hard as hell, but my jacket hid things better than his. Besides, I had plenty of tricks to kill a boner. But I’d do that in a minute. I kissed him again and again, soft little pecks, helping him calm down. Then I took a half step back, putting just a little space between us. “You can take care of me later.”
“I will. I promise.”
“I know.”
He looked better now. Not as wild. I straightened my jacket and hoped his fingers hadn’t left crease marks. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth several times, and then he nodded.
“Go inside, slip into the bathroom, and splash some water on your face. You look a little flushed.” If I could see it in the near pitch dark, then it would be more than obvious in the light. “I’ll be in in a minute. I wanna dance with you.”
His smile was soft and sweet. He squeezed my hand then walked away to do as I directed. I took a few deep breaths, the cold temperature helping to cool me down now that he wasn’t right in front of me. I stood at attention and ran through my mental list of erection killers until I wasn’t hard enough to cut glass. Then I followed him inside.
W e did dance. We weren’t the only same gendered couple on the dance floor. There was Janice and Lucette, who really knew how to move, their steps coordinated. Harris had a man in his arms, which, not gonna lie, was kind of a surprise. It didn’t look particularly intimate between them, more like friends having a good time. I spotted one or two others. But even still, I sort of felt like there was a spotlight on us.
The song shifted into something even slower and I tugged Morgan in closer. He came willingly. My right arm around his waist, I tucked his hand up against my chest. He was exactly the right height that the top of his head fit under my chin. He pressed his forehead against my throat instead of laying his head on my chest. We swayed as the couples around us shifted into similar positions.
“We’re going to be the talk of the town tomorrow,” he murmured.
“Let ‘em talk,” I responded in the same tone.
He looked up at me, eyes cautious. “And what happens when you go?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” I said after a moment.
Because suddenly, I wasn’t so ready to run. This moment, here with Morgan, felt so damn right. Thinking back on the past two weeks, it all felt so good. I knew he wouldn’t leave Hickory Hollow. I would never ask him to. He loved it with the same passion I hated it.
Or had hated it maybe. I wasn’t so sure anymore. And wasn’t that a kick in the head.