“Sex. You and me. One night together with as much sex as we can fit in. After that we go back to this . . . to being friends.” She motioned between us with her hand and flashed me an innocent smile.
I coughed, which led to a full-on coughing fit, which had everyone in the place looking at me. One man stood up and came over to see if I was okay. He patted his hand on my back a little too hard. I was pretty positive he had overheard Morgan’s . . . proposition.
Lifting my hand, I said, “I’m fine.”
Morgan sat there, leaning back in her chair, arms folded across that perfect chest of hers, a smirk on her face.
Once I could form words, I glared at her. “That was not funny. And it was mean, too.”
Her brow quirked. “It wasn’t meant to be funny. Why is asking for a night of sexual pleasure mean?”
I wasn’t sure how many times I opened and closed my mouth to speak. Ten? Maybe even twelve. Possibly twenty. It felt like an eternity before I finally could answer. Morgan ended up talking first. Saving me from looking like a complete fool.
“Thank you for taking me home last night and making sure I was safe. I should have started with that before I told you I wanted a night of sex.”
I reached for my water, finished the entire glass, and set it on the table. Someone was there instantly to refill it. When they walked away, I leaned in and narrowed my eyes at her.
“Do you hear what you’re saying? Are you still drunk?”
She laughed and leaned forward. “I am very sober, and I’m being serious. I need sex, Blake. I haven’t been with a guy in a long time, and I’m tired of using . . . other means . . . to make myself come.”
I groaned and closed my eyes as I buried my face into my hands. It was like both a dream come true and a nightmare. This was my karma coming to cash in on my ass.
“Who better to ask than a friend? Someone I know. Someone I trust. Someone I’m attracted to. A guy who will take care of me in all the right ways.”
“Fuck,” I mumbled. “Morgan. Stop. For fuck's sake, you were just in a bar last night drowning the memory of your ex.”
Her eyes dropped to her hands. It had probably been a dick move to bring that up, but it was true. “If the drinking couldn’t drown him out of your thoughts, I don’t think one night of fucking me will do it.”
Morgan’s eyes lifted to meet mine. “My reasons for last night are not what you think. When Mike killed himself, it devastated me. But something strained things between us in the end. I think . . .”
Her voice cracked and she sat up straighter. “I give myself one time a year to mourn his death and let myself drown in guilt.”
“Guilt?” I asked.
She nodded. “I couldn’t make him happy. I couldn’t see he was hurting. I never saw the signs. He told me in his note he had been having an affair. I couldn’t seem to get anything right when it came to Mike. So forgive me for giving myself one night a year to get shit-faced over it.”
I scrubbed my hands down my face. “I’m sorry, Morgan.”
She turned away, trying to get her emotions in check before she focused back on me.
Morgan lifted her chin and said, “Be honest with me. Are you not interested in me that way?”
Dropping my hands to the table, I stared at her like she was an idiot. “Not interested in you?” I laughed. “If you only fucking knew.” I looked away and then back to her. “I’ve already pictured you naked and imagined my mouth exploring every inch of your body.”
She squirmed in her seat as she bit her thumb.
“Don’t do that.” I growled.
“Do what?” she asked, her breath a little husky sounding.
“Don’t sit there and squirm like you’re horny.”
“What if I am, and even more so since you so graciously gave me that visual? What else would you do to me, Blake?”
My dick grew hard, and I had to reach down to adjust the fucker.
“What?” I asked in a cracked voice.