Chapter 51
JAMIE
Seagulls caw over the bay, cutting across a sky of deep azure. The midsummer sun casts golden rays, soothed by the brisk harbor breeze.
It’s illuminating to watch Morgan work her magic on someone else. She’s got Mom eating out of the palm of her hand on the deck of the super bribery yacht as she puts on a contrite expression and apologizes deeply for the secrecy, emphasizing just how distraught I was to not be able to tell her.
“These things are complicated with a publicly traded company,” Morgan explains. “I apologize again for the secrecy.”
“Oh, it’s no problem, I’m just so happy for you two!” Mom absolutely beams, gripping my hand tight enough to crush my bones as I hand her a tissue for the tears welling in her eyes.
“And I know it seems sudden…” Morgan offers.
“But sometimes you just know,” Mom says, and she looks at me.
And I see in her eyes that she gets it. “I…” She takes a long drink of her champagne.
“A long time ago, I just knew. And even though things didn’t work out with Jamie’s father…
that decision brought Jamie into my life.
And I wouldn’t go back and change that decision, not in a million years. ”
“Oh, Mom…” I throw my arms around her, hugging her tight.
“You are the best thing that ever happened to me.” She squeezes back, and when she finally lets go, we both wipe away our tears. “So, trust your instincts. Things may not turn out how you expect, but… they’ll be good. They’ll be really good.”
#
MORGAN
That night, we sit on the cheap couch in Jamie’s apartment, his two cats running in excited circles now that they’ve had their dinner. Jamie’s in my lap, and I run my fingers through his copper hair.
I can’t get enough of his scent. Not only the jasmine and vanilla and sandalwood, or the allspice and cloves of his arousal, but also the lingering coconut of his conditioner, the subtle fresh linen of his favorite detergent, the hint of champagne clinging to his breath. Every little molecule is perfect.
“Thanks for being so good with Mom,” he says. “She really likes you. She sent me, like, ten texts about it.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Do I get to meet your parents?”
“Eventually. But I’m afraid that won’t be an enjoyable dinner for anyone. They’ll be much less subtle than your mother about asking for kids.”
Jamie looks surprised. “Did she?”
I raise a brow at him. “The thing about how things will work out.”
“Oh, I guess you could take it that way. But she—we’ve talked about it before. She didn’t mean, like, in any specific way.”
“Do you want kids?” I ask, keeping my tone precisely casual.
Jamie considers for a long moment. “I… I don’t think so.
I mean, I’m not totally closed to it, but…
I saw… I saw how hard it was for my mom.
And I know she still feels guilty about…
about how much I shouldered then. So I think I’d have to be…
a hundred and fifty percent into it. Like, absolutely fully committed.
And I’m just… not. Yet. Maybe… ever.” He lets out a sigh.
“Look at that, I formed a whole opinion before begging you to tell me what you want.”
“I’m so proud of you,” I tease, ruffling his hair.
“So… do you? Want kids?”
“No,” I say simply.
Jamie looks at me expectantly, and when I don’t elaborate, he cracks a smile. “Well… why?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” I tease.
His smile widens. He’s getting the hang of my games. “Yeah, but I want you to.”
“And what do we do when we want something?”
His eyes shine up at me. “Please, alpha. Please tell me.”
The words go straight to my cunt. Fuck.
“Because,” I purr, grazing my teeth along his neck. “I don’t want to share even a second of your time with anyone. You are mine and only mine.”
He shudders against me. “That’s very selfish of you…”
“What are you going to do about it?” I brush my fingertips on the inside of his knee.
“I…”
“Are you going to try to fix me, Jamie Brennan?” My fingers trail higher.
His voice turns breathy. “I…”
“Or are you just going to cum about it?”
I palm his cock, and he arches into me, moaning so sweetly.
“T-that one,” he gasps, and in short order I have him unraveling for me again.
#
JAMIE
Morgan stays the night. Surrounded by her scent, I sleep better than I have since I left Pleasantwood. And… the fact that she tired me out with another couple of orgasms, tongue working hungrily over my cock and ass, certainly didn’t hurt.
As I stir in the morning, I find her arms around me. I rub my eyes, the brightness from the window telling me I’ve slept later than usual.
“Morning, sleeping beauty,” she says, planting a kiss on my forehead.
“Mmmm… did you sleep okay?”
“No. This mattress is terrible. You’re moving.”
I chuckle sleepily. “Imagine an alpha being pickier about bedding than an omega…” Though I guess it makes sense ‘cause she’s so tall…
“I’m serious.”
“Hm? But what about the cats?”
“Bring them. I’ll send movers for the rest of your stuff. Pack what you’ll need for the next twenty-four hours.”
“…Right now?”
“Unless you have a good enough reason to keep me waiting…?”
I yawn and stretch. “Well, okay. I mean… Yes, alpha.”
My slightly smug grin dissolves in a yelp as Morgan tackles me back into the bed.
She makes the executive decision that fucking me into the mattress is a good enough reason to delay the packing, so at least she rates this bed as adequate for that purpose.
I pack my suitcase as Morgan gets breakfast delivered.
Egg and Bacon are a bit confused to go back in their carriers, but they’re good sports, and I spend the whole car ride feeding them treats and assuring them that they’re not going back to the pound.
The car pulls into a private garage that also connects to the apartment’s private elevator, and Morgan insists on carrying both cats, leaving my hands free.
At the top floor, the elevator doors slide open, we step out, and I stop short.
There is something very different about the apartment other than that it’s no longer an ongoing party.
Empty shelves now line the walls, and the designer decor is interspersed with structures that look like modern art with wooden leaves radiating out of iron stems and hollow spheres balanced on delicate metal legs.
“Is this… cat furniture?”
Morgan nods, leaning down and opening the two carriers. Egg and Bacon warily emerge, sniffing intently. Egg jumps right into one of the hollow spheres, continuing to survey the room from the safety of his cave.
“How did you… when was there time to…”
“I hired a consultant,” Morgan says with a shrug. “Gave them a blank check. There’s more coming—this is what they could set up overnight.”
I laugh, but I’m on the verge of tears. Happy tears. “They are going to be the most spoiled weird little shelter cats ever.”
“Not as spoiled as you’re going to be,” she purrs as she pins me against the wall with a hungry kiss.
#
Morgan wants to have the wedding just before the next full moon, which means it’s all of three weeks out.
At first, I’m comforted by this because I figure it can’t be too extravagant.
Monday takes me back into the office—I still have a job, after all, engaged to the CEO or not. Morgan assures me she’ll take care of everything with HR.
I don’t succeed at focusing much in the morning, so I’m hoping my afternoon caffeine with Eileen will get me back on track.
Given that she’s doing the wedding planning, she doesn’t exactly help get my mind off of Morgan.
Her eyes twinkle. “You’re going to love it! I can’t tell you anything, of course, except you’re going to love it.”
“It can’t be too over-the-top, right? Aren’t those crazy weddings planned, like, two years out?”
“Millionaires plan years out,” she informs me. “Billionaires don’t have to. Anything can show up tomorrow… for a rush fee.”
My eyes widen as I process the implications. “What about booking a venue? Please, please promise me we’re not canceling anyone else’s event.”
“Of course not. Though, Morgan totally would. But millionaires book venues. Billionaires own venues. And don’t worry. We’ve got the perfect one.”
I take a deep drink of my latte. “Promise to never, ever show me the budget.”
Eileen winks. “Pinky promise.”
We hook our little fingers and seal the deal.
She doesn’t tell me the budget—or anything else. I remain totally in the dark, and those next three weeks fly by.
And then it’s time.