Defending Morgan (Mountain Mercenaries #3)(66)

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to give you a blow job,” Morgan said against his chest.

Arrow’s dick immediately deflated at her words. Not because of the thought of never getting her mouth on him, but because of the meaning behind why she felt that way.

“I don’t care.”

“All guys care. They all want that,” Morgan protested.

Arrow put his hand under her chin and lifted her head so she had to look at him while he spoke. “I don’t,” he said firmly. “Beautiful, I just shot my load after you touched me for, like, two-point-three seconds. I don’t care what part of you is touching me, as long as you are. I am not ‘all guys.’ When we’re together like this, it’s just you and me here. No one else. What we do together is no one’s business but ours. Having you here in my shower is like a dream come true. Intimacy between us is what we make it. Screw everyone else and screw what ‘all guys’ want.”

Morgan nodded and tucked her chin once more. Arrow held her to him, turning so the warm water hit her back so she wouldn’t be cold. They stood like that for quite a while until he asked, “Do you want me to wash your hair?”

He felt her take a deep breath, then she looked up. “No. I’m hungry. I need you to go and start my omelet.”

Arrow couldn’t help the silly smile from spreading across his face. “You got it, beautiful. Thank you for this morning. You’ll never know how much it meant to me.”

“Me too,” she said shyly. “Thank you for not pressuring me for more.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he scolded. “I’ll never pressure you for anything more than what you want to give me.” Then Arrow slowly leaned down and kissed her lips lightly. She tugged him back down when he started to straighten and deepened the kiss.

By the time he got out of the shower, he was hard once again, but he didn’t care. He had a feeling he was going to spend most of his time around her hard as a fucking rock . . . and he’d love every second of it.



Morgan got dressed slowly and tried not to blush thinking about what she’d done to Arrow. She hadn’t planned it, but as she lay on his bed listening to him in the shower, she’d gotten mad. Mad at herself. Mad at her captors. Mad at the men who’d taken what she didn’t want to give. So she’d decided to take the bull by the horn, so to speak, and the next thing she knew, she was naked with Arrow.

She’d been nervous at first, scared he’d take her coming to him the wrong way, but she should’ve known better. He hadn’t pressured her. Hadn’t even touched her while she was pleasuring him. It had been empowering. She’d felt the need to warn him that she didn’t think she’d ever be comfortable taking him in her mouth, not after what the men in Santo Domingo had forced her to do, but she’d felt safe telling him because she knew he’d answer exactly as he had.

For the first time since she’d moved in with Arrow, she thought maybe she’d get to a point eventually where she could make love with him and not freak out.

Today wasn’t that day, but she could see herself giving her trust to him. He wouldn’t hurt her. Wouldn’t rush her, and would do everything in his power to make her feel safe.

She hadn’t missed how he’d pulled her on top of him when she’d cried, rather than rolling over and putting her beneath him. He was cautious and ever mindful of where her head might be when he was with her in an intimate situation. It made her love him all the more.

Wait . . . what?

Love?

Did she love him?

Morgan wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t.

Even when she’d first started seeing Lane, she hadn’t felt like she did with Arrow. She was giddy with excitement, yes, but it was more than that. It was the bone-deep realization that she trusted him with her darkest secrets . . . and that he’d protect them with everything he had.

He knew about her less-than-perfect family, and it hadn’t chased him away.

He didn’t care that she might never be the same person she used to be.

Smiling, Morgan quickly finished getting dressed and didn’t bother to dry her hair before rushing to the kitchen to see Arrow. Her stomach growled when she smelled the delicious omelet he’d made for her.

“Morning, beautiful,” he said as she came to him.

She snuggled under his arm and smiled shyly. “Hi.”

He chuckled. “I never would’ve pegged you for the shy type,” he said with a smirk.

Smacking his arm, Morgan shook her head. “Whatever. Give me that plate, mister, before I upend it on your head.”

“You wouldn’t dare waste a good omelet that way,” he retorted, handing her the plate.

“True,” she conceded. “Thank you for making it for me.”

“No problem.”

She took the plate, hauled herself up onto one of the barstools next to the island, and dug in. The eggs were cooked perfectly, like usual. He joined her, placing a large glass of orange juice in front of her, and tucked into his own fried eggs.

Just as they were finishing, Arrow’s phone rang. He pulled it out and answered.

“Hello? Oh hi, Robert . . . What? No, I didn’t . . . Absolutely not . . . keep her there for me. I’ll be down in a second.”