Chapter 21
Jack
“Morgan, I know what you’re doing.”
She stands quick. “If you were Christian—”
“What? We could be together?” I ask rhetorically. “Get that idea out of your dumb little head, okay?”
She pouts, giving me big pleading eyes.
But the truth can’t be rewritten.
“It isn’t a choice for me, Morgan. Jesus would have to walk through that door, and perform a miracle for me to believe.”
“Miracles come in many forms that are often overlooked.”
It’d be a miracle if I fucked this girl tonight, but that’s not happening. Actually, it’d be a miracle if she walked away from a church that’s controlling her every breath.
I down two more shooters to make this bearable. I hate talking about religious crap.
She rambles on.
“And if you give your heart to Jesus, he will...”
She sounds like Mom did. Why does Morgan do this to herself?
“Want to go out?” I interrupt, desperate to hush the propaganda spewing from her mouth. “There are bars close by. We can play darts or pool?”
Anything else.
Because I don’t want to end my time with this woman.
Her brow furrows. “So you won’t even consider converting for me?”
“For you?”
She shrugs innocently. “Losing my virginity to another Christian is better than an atheist.”
I bark out a laugh. “Is that why you invited me here? To convert me using sex as your leverage?”
She looks away and mumbles, “Maybe.”
I smile, wide and genuine. It’s hilarious. Church girl playing wicked games.
I haven’t changed, though. I want to fuck her — what man wouldn’t. However, I won’t lie and pretend to be a born again Christian. Ain’t gonna happen.
She holds herself, clearly ashamed. “This would be so much easier if you believed.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Then maybe we could be together.”
“Come on, Morgan. Wake up. My brother is in love with you.”
She looks up from under her brow. “So? I don’t want your brother. I want you. Nobody seems to care what I want, though. Men make all of my choices.”
I sigh softly. “I care, but your little plan — converting me in a hotel room — won’t fix all the things stacked against us. Religion is just one problem. For fuck sakes, your dad could’ve killed me. That man hates me.”
She winces. “I know...”
“I have a criminal record. I’ve been arrested for pot and reckless driving. Will your followers be down with that? How about your snobby donors who’ll take one look at my tattoos and go elsewhere?”
Her frown deepens.
After a long pause, she nods, defeated.
“I can’t leave the hotel room, but we can watch a movie.”
She turns on the television and flips through channels. Although clearly disappointed, she seems less anxious.
Softly, she adds, “I can hang with an atheist. Even Jesus was friends with nonbelievers.”
Back in the friends-zone.
But I chuckle at how pitiful she sounds.
She fluffs a pillow and pats the bed half-heartedly. “Sit with me.” She curls up against the headboard.
Guess I am the pitiful one, because I kick off my shoes and join her fast.
We watch a comedy and she laughs. It’s that beautiful laugh I’ve missed, the one that makes everyone look. I take her soft hand in mine, settling for any touch she’ll give me.
Actually, this is the most PG time I’ve spent with a girl in bed. It doesn’t bother me. The more I think about it, the crazier it is that this is where I want to be. Near her, even though we aren’t fooling around.
Halfway through, she snuggles closer and—
Kisses my neck. Soft at first, then wet.
Then teeth.
I let my head drop back on the headboard and stare at the ceiling.
“Morgan,” I say flatly, a warning.
“I know! You’re just so hot, Jack. And you smell good. And I missed you!”
Greedily, she sucks on my neck. She must have no idea what that does to me. I don’t know what they do in Bible camp, but in my world, she’s asking to get fucked senseless.
“Morgan,” I growl. “You better stop.”
Her hands slip under my shirt, and she roams her soft palms over my stomach and chest.
“And you’re like freaking marble!” she whines.
I hold back a laugh. “Nice dirty talk, church girl.”
I’ve given her ample warning. I’ve told her we’re too different. I won’t change.
At this point—
She’s screaming to get railed.
I slam my tongue into her mouth, and place her hand over my dick.
Like before, I’m hard as steel and want to sink into her so badly that it’s painful.
She buries her face into the nook of my neck, probably shy.
Fuck, it’s sweet.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I rasp low, and force her hand up and down my shaft. “My cock put the fear of God in you?”
Her eyes flick to mine. “Can I see it?”
My lips quark into a half-smile. I slide out of bed and pull off my shirt. She studies my body, mouth parted, entranced. Slowly, I unzip my pants. My gaze never leaves her face. I watch her squirm and cheeks tinge pink.
Yeah, she’s fucking cute.
“Go ahead. You can show me,” she assures, her eyes sparkling with fear and anticipation.
As if I am shy.
I’ve never blinked twice if a girl wants to see it.
Just as I am about to slide down my clothes, her eyes dart away, and she begins unbuttoning her red pajama top.
As her fingers work, she speaks with determination.
“If you don’t want to convert, okay then, but I won’t be a virgin anymore.”
The fabric rolls off her shoulders. She unhooks her bra, unleashing the most full, heavy looking tits I’ve ever seen.
My heart stops.
“Fucking hell,” I whisper, my eyes blown wide.
They’re better than I imagined.
Just then, an image flashes, violent and unwelcome. Her new pretty-boy pastor with his mouth on those perfect, supple breasts. Devouring her.
The vision boils my blood. I know her being mine is impossible. Her life is planned. I don’t doubt she’ll marry him, or someone similar. Just listening to her try to convert me earlier is a lifetime of conditioning I’ll never undo.
Forget about that, Jack.
Take your chance. Fuck her better than anyone ever will. Make her remember you.
Yes.
I slip my thumbs under my waistband and jerk down.
She’s probably never seen a dick in her life, because by the look in her eyes, she’s overwhelmed. I watch, half expecting the puritan to blush or say never mind.
She doesn’t.
Her gaze rises from my cock to my eyes.
“Um... Be gentle. Okay?”
I bite my bottom lip to conceal my grin.
Before I go back to the endless grind, I sense this might be the best night of my life.
I have to savor every fucking second.
“I’ll be gentle.”