Defending Morgan (Mountain Mercenaries #3)(87)

“I’m going to come, beautiful,” he warned her.

“Okay,” she breathed.

“Is that all right? I don’t want to do anything that will startle you.”

“Oh yeah,” she said, her gaze dropping between her legs.

He could only imagine what she saw when she looked down at their bodies. Her hand, which had been resting on his chest, reached between them, and she lifted his dick, pressing it harder between her folds. He still wasn’t penetrating her, but he could feel her pussy lips on either side of his shaft now.

“Fuck,” he swore, tightening his grip on her hips.

“Come on me,” Morgan ordered. “I want to see it.”

As if her words were all he’d been waiting for, Arrow felt his orgasm move from his balls up his shaft until he was spurting all over his stomach, her hand, and her folds.

Wanting her to come with him, he pressed on her clit hard and fast. Morgan ground down on him, prolonging his orgasm, even as she exploded with her own pleasure.

She twitched and shook over him, her fluids mixing with his own. By the time they’d both come down from their orgasmic high, they were a mess. Arrow was soaked from his stomach to his balls and knew Morgan was just as wet.

But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

She lowered herself down on top of him, keeping her legs spread over his crotch.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured into his ear.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She was sorry? “For what?” he asked incredulously.

“For not being able to go through with it. For not being able to make love.”

Arrow couldn’t help it. He laughed.

He felt her stiffen above him, but he couldn’t stop the laughter from escaping. When he had himself under control, he said, “I’ve never done anything half as intimate as what we just did together,” he told her. “That was definitely making love.”

“But you didn’t . . . I couldn’t . . .” Her voice trailed off before she could finish her thoughts.

But she didn’t have to. Arrow knew what she was getting at. He pushed her up until he could look into her eyes. “It was perfect. Every second of what we just did blew my mind. There was only one thing missing.”

She bit her lip, worry easy to see in her eyes. “What?”

“I haven’t kissed you yet.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “I can fix that.”

“I hoped you would.”

Morgan leaned down and pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss. But almost immediately, she changed it to a more carnal one, her tongue pressing against his lips, demanding entry and sweeping over his as soon as he opened for her.

They lay together, naked, sweaty, messy, and sated, and made out. Kissed as if they’d never kissed before in their lives.

When Morgan finally took her lips from his and rested her head on his shoulder, Arrow said, “We should get up and shower.”

“Mmmmm.”

“And put on some sleep clothes.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Arrow smiled and shut his mouth. He was sticky from their combined releases and knew he’d need to change the sheets, but if his woman wanted to lie on top of him and sleep, that’s what she’d get to do.

He wasn’t worried about what the future held for them. She’d come so far so fast that he knew she’d eventually wrestle her demons into submission. It didn’t matter if it took one year or ten—she was more than anything he’d ever dreamed he’d have.



Black stood at the back of the room and watched the women and children with a smile on his face. The men on his team took turns coming to the women’s shelter and spending time with the residents, to try to show them they didn’t have to be afraid of all men. Many of them were there because they were homeless and trying to get back on their feet, but a vast majority had lived in tough situations where they were abused. Domestic violence seemed to be on the rise, and the shelter was a safe place for women from all walks of life.

Coming to the shelter was a tough assignment, especially if the kids cried when they first saw him and the women cowered away. But by the end of the evening, he could usually win over even the most frightened children and their moms.

Tonight, he’d colored pictures with the group. Then, after the kids were sent to the kitchen to participate in some sort of cooking lesson with the newly hired chef, he gave a short self-defense class to the women.

The children were now back, and everyone was oohing and aahing over the cookies they’d made during the last forty-five minutes or so.

“Excuse me. You’re Lowell Lockard, right?”

Black turned in surprise to see who’d managed to approach him without his noticing.

The woman was the same height as he was, around five nine, and had blonde hair with the ends dyed light purple. She had dark-blue eyes that reminded him of a stormy ocean. She was full-figured and had the kind of hips he would die to put his hands on.

The thought startled him, even made him feel a little uncomfortable. He wasn’t the kind of man who had intense feelings about women he’d just met. He cleared his throat before saying, “Yeah, that’s me. Do I know you?”

“You probably don’t remember me,” she said, her voice low and husky. “I’m Harlow. Harlow Reese. We went to high school together. Well, you were a year older than me, but we both went to Roosevelt High.”