Chapter 16
The sun shining through my window stirred me awake from a dream I wasn’t quite ready to leave just yet. I squinted my eyes against the brightness, letting out a raspy groan as I turned onto my back and stretched the sleep from my body.
When I finally opened my eyes, I was met with the sight of the pitched tent of my sheets above my throbbing dick.
I exhaled a deep sigh of disappointment and annoyance as I shifted my gaze to the ceiling, shaking my head as I began thinking of anything to deflate myself.
No, this wasn’t typical morning wood—the dream I was so rudely pulled from involved me naked and Morgan’s ass.
And this wasn’t the first time this had occurred since we made our deal.
I was annoyed I was having yet another dream that not only involved her but left me in this state. I was even more annoyed at that moment that I was in bed alone with no other option than to figure out a solution for the problem myself.
Why was I alone? Because, apparently, Morgan and I didn’t do sleepovers.
She couldn’t come out last night for our usual night out with everyone because of a work project.
It’d been a week since our last meet-up, so when I left the bar a little after midnight, I messaged her and told her to meet me at my apartment.
She countered that it was already late. I told her she could just sleep at my place. She said that was “against the rules.”
Waking up hard with her on my mind and not in my bed to rectify it was an absolute fucking travesty. And it was occurring far too often. When was it even decided that no sleepovers were a thing? Because I sure as hell didn’t agree to that.
It was bullshit.
I narrowed my choices down to a cold shower or a morning run. I opted for the latter. Early April brought warmer weather, but it was still brisk enough in the mornings that a shirtless run would do me some good.
After my run and a much-needed shower, I spent the rest of my day doing absolutely nothing until it was time to head to my mom’s.
Sunday family dinner was filled with the usual banter between me and Haley about her love life—things with the guy she went on that date with on Valentine’s Day had already gone in the gutter and were over.
I reiterated that she should be single for a while.
She reiterated that I had no right to voice my opinion on the matter when I’d never had a relationship of any kind.
And Mom uttered a few wise words of advice to both of us that went in one ear and out the other.
By the time I left dinner, I was feeling restless, so I shot Morgan a text once I got into my car.
You free tonight?
Princess
Yeah.
I’m on my way over.
I liked the simplicity of our arrangement.
When one of us messaged the other, we knew the reason why.
There was no beating around the bush, no awkwardness, no need for small talk and hoping for the best. It was entirely uncomplicated, which made it perfect.
And in the nearly two months since we made the deal, we had a routine for our encounters pretty nailed down.
Fifteen minutes later, I was knocking on her apartment door. When she opened it, she stepped aside to let me in, and I slipped off the light jacket I had on, draping it on the back of one of the stools at her counter.
“Hello to you, too,” she said.
I smirked as I stepped up to her. “Hi.”
“Tone down the enthusiasm,” she quipped.
I chuckled, curling my hand around the back of her neck and stroking my thumb against her pulse point—the slight shiver that rippled through her from the touch didn’t go unnoticed by me. “Well, I’m not sure how much enthusiasm is or isn’t allowed with your rules,” I teased back.
“My rules?”
“Yeah, you know, the ones you keep making up as we go.”
She scoffed, stepping away from me and turning, starting down the hall to her bedroom. “If there’s a rule you’d like to discuss, just say it.”
I trailed behind her, pushing the door shut when we stepped into her room. She turned to face me, shrugging off the oversized sweater she had on and tossing it onto a small armchair in the corner.
“I think we need to discuss this whole no sleepovers thing,” I said as I pulled my shirt over my head.
“What about it?” she asked, peeling off her tank top.
I stared at the red lace of her bra that left very little to my already explicit imagination. The sight of it shot straight to my dick. Jesus. Red was definitely a good color for her. “Nothing, except the fact that it’s utter horseshit.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. Sleepovers would turn this thing into something more than it is.”
My brow furrowed as I unbuttoned my jeans. “And how, pray tell, did you come up with that logic?”
I watched as she stripped from her pants, taking note of the way she slid the denim down and over the very ass I’d been dreaming of that morning. “Because you don’t do sleepovers with someone you despise, even if you’re having sex with them.”
“Okay, but I think sleeping together has shifted us a notch above despise.” I tossed my jeans on the floor. “We’re more in the area of…intense dislike.”
I saw her eyes momentarily flicker to the hard outline of my dick in my boxer briefs. “It’s the same thing.”
“No, it’s not.” I took a step toward her, gripping her hips and yanking her body against mine; my hand slid up her back to the clasp of her bra, and with a flick of my wrist, it was undone. “You don’t make a deal with and continue to fuck someone you despise.”
“Speak for yourself…”
I let out a low, satirical laugh as I pushed her back onto the bed, hooked my fingers into the waistband of her underwear, and pulled them down her legs, tossing them to the floor with the rest of our discarded clothes. “You’re really fucking stubborn, you know that?”
“I am not.”
“Yes, you are.” I sank to my knees at the edge of the bed and pushed her legs apart. “Because something tells me I wouldn’t be doing this if you despised me as much as you claim.”
I didn’t give her a chance to speak again before my mouth was on her, and I smirked when she arched with a moan as my tongue licked and swirled.
The only time we seemed to get along and be on the same page was like this.
And our bickering and back and forth seemed to amplify these moments, almost as if fanning the flames was some form of foreplay.
I secretly loved it, reveling in the gratification that I could get under her skin and piss her off, only to have her moaning mere moments later because she couldn’t help it.
I worked her with my tongue until she was panting through whimpers, then made her cry out when I plunged two fingers inside of her. My gaze flickered up, seeing the flush on her neck and cheeks with her lips parted and her eyes shut.
“Open your eyes,” I murmured before flicking my tongue against her clit, making her body quiver with a whimper.
But her eyes remained closed. “Open your fucking eyes and look at me, Morgan. I want you to watch the man you despise eat your pussy until I have you shaking and coming all over my tongue while screaming the name you hate.”
To my surprise, she listened, and I wrapped my lips around her clit with a groan as she held my gaze. “Oh f-fuck!” she gasped, reaching down to thread her fingers through my hair as she rolled her hips.
I gripped her tightly to keep her in place, holding her stare as I continued to devour her. When I felt her start to tremble, the corner of my lips tugged into a cocky grin, knowing she was about to come undone.
“Wes!”
I closed my eyes with a shudder.
Wes.
Not Wesley.
Not asshole.
Wes.
And she moaned it.
In no fucking universe should my name ever sound that damn good being moaned from the lips of Morgan Hayes, but fuck…it did. And it was dangerous. Dangerous in the sense that I could easily become addicted to hearing it.
But that knowledge didn’t stop me from demanding more.
I opened my eyes with a groan, curling my fingers up. “Say it again.”
Her body arched with a gasp as she shattered. “Wes!”
“You sound so fucking good moaning my name like that, Princess.”
I worked her through her release before pulling my fingers from her and licking them clean as I stood; that was another thing I was slowly finding addicting.
Her taste. She was still catching her breath when I reached for her nightstand drawer and pulled it open, dipping my hand into the box inside.
I stripped from my boxers, tore open the foil, and rolled the condom on before coming over top of her between her legs.
“So…” I smirked as I looked down at her. “You finally gonna start calling me Wes now?”
Her brow furrowed. “What?”
“My tongue and fingers had you so far gone you didn’t even notice what you just said?”
I saw the moment the realization hit her. “Well, shit…”
I chuckled as I pushed her legs further apart with my thighs. “Just embrace it, Princess.”
She parted her lips to respond with what I assumed was going to be some snarky remark of protest, but before she could, I pushed into her, morphing whatever words she was about to speak into nothing but a shuddered rush of air as I filled her.
My pace started relentless, too consumed in how good she felt wrapped around my cock to care about slowing down to enjoy it. And based on the way she writhed and whimpered beneath me, she didn’t mind one damn bit.
I could sense her getting closer to the edge from the way she started to tense and quiver.
And I’d been asking her for something since that first night we hooked up, but now that she’d actually said it, I was going to make sure I heard it again.
“Say my name when you come,” I grunted as I slammed into her.
“No,” she protested through a moan. A wicked smirk curled on my lips, and despite the objection from my dick, I stilled inside of her, forcing her back from that ledge she was so desperate to fall over. Her eyes flew open. “Why the hell did you stop?”
“Say it.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” She held my stare as I pushed up to brace myself on one arm while reaching between us with my free hand.
“Say it,” I growled, letting my thumb stroke her clit, just firmly enough to keep her on the brink.
Her lips parted with a gasp, and I bit back a groan when I felt her spasm around me.
I needed to hear it again. “Come on, Princess,” I taunted. “Say. It.”
“Wes,” she whispered through a moan as a shiver wracked her body.
I smirked triumphantly, pulling my hips back slowly as my thumb continued to circle her clit. “Again.”
“Wes,” she moaned. I drove back into her hard and deep. “Wes!”
“There it is,” I grunted in satisfaction.
I quickened my speed, my thrusts almost punishing as her moans grew louder. When her orgasm crashed over her, she screamed my name again as she clamped around me. My climax shredded through me at the sound and feel of her, drawing a guttural groan from my throat.
I collapsed onto my back beside her a moment later, both of us trying to catch our breath as we came down from the high.
“You’re still not sleeping over,” she panted.
I scoffed through a breathless laugh, shaking my head.
This woman was going to be the fucking death of me.
I wasn’t a fan of Mondays, especially Mondays where most of my day was spent in court with little to no reprieve between cases. I was in Charleston for most of the day before returning to Bayport for my final two appearances.
By the time I returned to the office, it was nearly five o’clock. I went through my emails and any messages left with my secretary before going through the few voicemails on my office phone.
I scribbled down notes from the first two for callbacks before playing the third.
“Hi, Mr. Callahan. This is Shannon from New National Bank. I have the documents you requested on behalf of your client for her mother, Lori Bennett. I have everything you asked for in your initial call, but there’s a trust listed here as well that you didn’t mention that popped up with her social, and I just wanted to know if you wanted those documents as well?
Just let me know, and I’ll get them sent over to you right away. Thanks so much.”
My brow furrowed as I listened to the message.
During the probate review, Callie only ever mentioned one trust that she knew her mom had, but as far as she was aware, nothing was left in it.
I assumed that’s what they had to be referring to.
I glanced at my watch—it was five o’clock on the dot, so returning their call would have to wait until tomorrow.