Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
RHYS
F uck. Me.
Long two fucking days.
We’re down two people. Something Brent pointed out every time there was a hole in the push up. Just lucky Beau is a demon on the bike. Has a conscience but no fear. Makes fuck all sense to me.
And as if Brent wouldn’t have done the same. So, I don’t even know what his problem is. Maybe he needs a good root.
Speaking of a root, I need one. Maybe then I can stop fucking my fist to Morgan. I don’t even mean for it to be her. But as I’m nearing my climax, her face appears, and it catapults me across the line.
She was heavily featured last night while I tried to sleep. I woke up dry-fucking my mattress like a horny teen. So, like the horny teen I’ve apparently become, I went and had a wank in the shower. Only to have the person who is plaguing my mind, walk into me on the way back to my room.
The cattle are in makeshift yards. The storm didn’t seem to spook them too bad. Not sure how Morgan would have taken it seeing another dead animal.
She mentioned she called Shane. Still no news on her douche bag ex.
Speaking of Morgan, I haven’t seen her since we got back, I assume she’s with Molly. No wait, Molly is skipping next to Dani. Where is Morgan?
Panic sets in.
Fuck. I know she’ll be fine, but the last time I took my eyes off her, well, I ended up committing murder.
I run back to my place yelling at Beau to make sure the gates are closed and locked over my shoulder.
As soon as I enter, a broken sob catches my attention. “Morgan?”
Nothing. I walk deeper into the house.
“Princess?”
A panted fuck off gets called back.
One of two things is happening. And I hope it’s a panic attack. I can’t walk in on my best friend’s sister masturbating.
When I reach her room, I gently push on the door.
And my heart does this funny thing when I see her.
She’s curled up on her bed, in the furthest corner away from the door.
Esky is nudging her arm with her nose, but Morgan isn’t responding.
I don’t hesitate to close the distance. Once I’m closer, I tell her I’m going to reach for her, but she still flinches when I touch her.
I silently curse. Rolling her on her back, it’s evident she’s been crying, but her eyes are vacant of all emotion.
I stroke her face with the back of my fingers. This time she doesn’t flinch. “Hey Morgan, what happened?”
Holding my breath, I watch as her blue eyes come back into focus. Once she notices it’s me, instead of telling me to fuck off again, she wraps her arms around my neck. And I let that breath out. This can’t be good.
“What happened?” I ask again.
“I forgot to block him. Ethan. I posted a picture of Esky, a-and… and he messaged me.”
I try to keep the anger that is vibrating in my chest out of my voice, “What did he say?”
“Remember I like it when you run and hide. So, keep hiding. It’ll make dragging you back so much sweeter.”
It finishes in a hiccup. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Fuck this prick is as good as dead. I don’t think when I kiss the top of her head, or when I say, “I’ll never let anything bad happen to you.”
She nods into my chest, while I hold her. I move so I’m leaning against the wall, and she’s cradled on my lap. Head resting on my chest,
“Rhys?”
I hum in response.
“Aren’t you sick of putting me back together?”
“You’re the only one here who thinks you’re broken.”
She’s still the same fiery take-no-shit Morgan I know. Yes, she has triggers now. They don’t make her weak. They make her resilient.
I lean my head back against the wall, closing my eyes. That is, until I feel her shift.
Looking down at her I notice she’s already looking at me. I cock an eyebrow in question. The air has shifted into unspoken territory. This is intimate. When did it change? Why aren’t I doing anything about it? And why, when she leans up, softly closing her eyes, do I lean the fuck in?
Her soft lips meet mine. Her tongue runs along the seam of my lips. Fuck. I open my mouth, meeting her tongue with mine.
It’s messy, heated, and oh so fucking good.
She once again shifts so she’s straddling my hips. Slowly rolling hers, back and forth. She growls in frustration, not being able to get the friction she wants or needs.
I pull away from her seeking lips.
“Put this leg between mine.” I tap her thigh.
She doesn’t hesitate. But still, she can’t get what she needs.
“Hold on.” I bend my knee, and she rolls her hips back at the same time. Her breathy moan goes straight to my cock.
Our lips meet once again. Her hands fist my hair at the back of my head. Her hips continue to roll, grinding her pussy along my thigh.
I break the kiss, resting my forehead on hers. “You going to come on my thigh?”
Her eyebrows pull together while she nods, and another moan slips through her lips.
Placing my hands on her hips, I guide her in long forceful movements.
Morgan whimpers my name. Her breathing has picked up, coming in short, broken pants.
“Close?”
She lets out a breathy yes.
“You’re doing such a good job riding my thigh.”
“Rhys.” She pulls my hair causing a spark of pain.
“Come Princess, come all over my thigh.”
Her hips stutter in my grip. She forces her lips to mine, letting out a choked sound, that is somewhere between a whimper and a moan. Her legs squeeze mine in their vice grip .
“Good girl. Come apart for me.”
She goes still before relaxing and melting into my hold, so I keep moving her hips, helping her through her orgasm.
We sit here like that, wrapped in each other’s embrace, until reality comes crushing down around us. Pushing up from my hold, she looks at me with wide eyes, “What did we just do?”
“We? I did nothing.” I shrug.
“You did nothing?”
“Well, I didn’t come, did I?”
She lifts up off me and falls to the bed. I immediately miss her warmth. But when I look down at my thigh, I notice a small wet spot. Fuck she must be soaked. We’re both wearing jeans and yet her cum left a little patch. Just for me. I shouldn’t smile at it, but I do.
Morgan follows my gaze. “Oh my God. I’ll wash them.”
“No, I think I’ll keep them like this.” I trace the spot with my finger.
“Whatever, it’ll dry anyway.”
“But I’ll know.” I risk taking a look at her. She in her ‘Morgan pose’. Hip popped to the side arm crossed over her chest, well under because they have pushed her tits up. And well her expression is just bored, as is her tone,
“Get out of my room.”
I push myself forward so I’m resting on the side of the bed, “Is that anyway to speak to someone who just helped you get off.”
“Ha, so you did do something.”
I stand up from her bed and rearrange myself. I take pleasure in the way her eyes grow wide at the bulge in my pants.
Fuck, what am I doing ?
“Yeah, I helped my best friend’s sister fuck herself on my leg.”
“Don’t say that out loud.” She groans as if coming on me was the worst thing that could have happened.
“Bye, Princess.”
I make a promise to myself that it won’t happen again.
What just happened was a one off. We just got caught up in the moment, again.
At least that’s what I try telling myself.
Over and over again. All the way to the shower, where I fuck my fist to the way she said my name.
The way she kissed me. The way she came apart for me. On me.