Chapter One #2
Morgan was beginning to forget the very reason she had forced herself to the gallery that evening. And then, when Sydney cupped her cheeks, bringing their mouths closer, she nearly forgot her own name.
The kiss deepened, and the sweet taste of champagne lingering on Sydney’s breath was as intoxicating as if Morgan had drunk the bubbly herself.
Morgan dropped her hand down to rest at the swell of Sydney’s hip and she could’ve kissed her for hours if she wanted to, if she could. Instead, she settled on removing what remained of their clothes.
When they were both naked, their gazes roaming each other’s bodies, memorizing what would be the first and last time, Sydney pressed her finger against Morgan’s sternum, directing her to the bed.
Morgan scooted back further up the mattress at the same time Sydney crawled onto it, moving with her as she went.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” Sydney whispered, pressing her lips against Morgan’s collarbone.
“When I saw you there looking at that photo, I just… I couldn’t imagine not introducing myself.
” She then moved down, pressing kisses between Morgan’s breasts, down her stomach just below her navel, over her hip, and then ended at the smooth, shaved spot just above Morgan’s clit.
Fuck.
There was nothing punishable about this.
Just the opposite, actually. This was like a reward for being good, for being the upstanding citizen Morgan had always prided herself in …
until she killed someone. A ripple of fear suddenly jerked through Morgan’s body as she remembered what she had done, and then she felt the accompanying pain, like the sharpest end of a needle sticking into her eye.
But then, Sydney settled her hips between Morgan’s legs, kissed her once more on the mouth, and adjusted her legs until her right thigh pressed against Morgan’s center and the fear disappeared.
And when Sydney shifted her body until their warm centers touched, Morgan couldn’t even remember why she had experienced that fear in the first place.
Sydney pressed her mouth against Morgan’s, sucked at her lip, and then rolled her hips, reaching for Morgan’s waist and forcing her to do the same.
For a while they just rocked back and forth, wet centers gliding against each other, dancing a silky dance of lust, of unfamiliarity, of beginnings and endings, and the few delectable moments in between.
And then it stopped so suddenly that Morgan lifted her head up and frowned. She wondered what the hell had happened. But it wasn’t anything to worry about. Sydney had moved until she was sitting on Morgan’s waist, straddling her, her wetness apparent on Morgan’s stomach.
“You haven’t even told me your name,” said Sydney with both brows raised.
“My name’s not important,” Morgan whispered, her breath shallow and raspy while her heart flapped wildly in her chest.
“Of course it is,” said Sydney, reaching for Morgan’s arms and pinning them above her head. “It’s the most important thing about you.”
“Agree to disagree,” Morgan said as she pulled her arms free and flipped the woman on her back.
She was ready to silence Sydney in order to keep the focus on what their bodies were doing.
Her sole focus was on what their bodies needed, but she hadn’t been able to get her lips close enough before Sydney flipped her right back and giggled.
“I like to be on top. You don’t mind, do you? ”
“No,” muttered Morgan, shaking her head, both stunned and intrigued.
She was completely intimidated by this far younger woman, whose confidence was something she had never expected.
But then again, Morgan was off her game.
She couldn’t possibly expect to correctly assess anyone when she could barely hold a thought together without those frustrating tears welling up behind her eyes.
But there were no tears now. There was only Sydney’s mouth on hers, her tongue running over Morgan’s teeth. The woman’s hands were exploring along the side of Morgan’s breast, thumb flicking over the hardened peak of her left nipple.
Sydney broke the kiss and shifted all the way to the end of the bed. She grabbed Morgan’s thighs, dug her nails in deep, though not enough to penetrate the skin, and then urged her legs open.
Morgan, who was leaning back on her elbows, watched the woman she hardly knew lower her head down. She was truly beautiful. Even with the dim light, it was impossible to think of her otherwise. Morgan tried to remember the last time she had slept with a—
But her thoughts were interrupted when Sydney slid her tongue over her sex, light at first and then a little harder.
Sydney licked and sucked, her tongue acting like a thread, stitching the cavernous hole in Morgan’s heart back together.
She bucked her hips against Sydney’s mouth, harder, faster, forcing the woman to lap her up.
She twisted the bed sheets, pushing her head back into the pillow.
A loud groan escaped her lips when Sydney’s tongue flicked at her clit, and even more so when she brought in a finger and curled it inside of her.
The painful world fell away. The gallery was a distant memory, so too was what she had done. It was just now, here, with this woman she didn’t know, in this room that wasn’t hers. Lips. Tongue. Fingers. Could it get any more basic than that? Any more primal? Any more fantastic?
Sydney slipped in a second finger, and that was it.
Morgan’s orgasm burst through her like a fiery blaze.
Her body shuddered, and her legs clamped shut.
She dropped her head back into the pillow and, at the same time, that thread that had held her together and mended her dissolved.
In its wake, it left that gaping festering wound exactly as it was.
Morgan was up before Sydney had even fallen onto her back. She had both feet on the floor before Sydney had even climaxed herself.
“I have to go,” she said, her voice tinted with panic.
That feeling of pain lifting and then crashing back even harder was far worse than she had ever imagined. It was like a wave retreating, only to slam back with a ferocity that threatened to drown her.
Morgan’s legs wobbled beneath her, but she didn’t drop down to the floor like she wanted to. She didn’t curl onto her side, holding her head in her hands until the worst of it subsided. Instead, she forced herself to stay upright.
“Why don’t you just stay the night?” Sydney said, looking both startled and disappointed—considering Morgan jumped up mid-sex. “You can leave first thing in the morning.”
Morgan was bent halfway down to fetch her right heel when she almost blurted stay the night? You know this was just a fuck, right?
But she thought better of it.
“I have to go,” she repeated, snatching her dress from the floor. She shrugged it over her shoulders and didn’t dare look back at Sydney lying naked on the bed before grabbing her heels.
A minute later, Morgan was already reversing out of the driveway.