Rixen raised an eyebrow at her from the stove, his magnificent back muscles fighting for attention as he turned at the waist. “What’s troubling you, Morgan?”
She crossed her arms, her scowl deepening when her stomach growled loud enough to wake the dead. Obviously she was hangry. That’s all this was. “Nothing. I’m not jealous.” Her face flamed. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
He flipped off the flame on the stove and approached her, brows knitted together. “What makes you jealous?”
Morgan studied her nails. “Your books. Were you just sitting here thinking of women all this time? All the ways you wanted to touch them?”
“No, I thought of you. I thought of…” He seemed to be searching for an explanation. “Warmth. Hope. But there was no face for my dream until you arrived. Now yours is the only face I will ever see.” Before Morgan could process those words—or the fluttering they created inside her—Rixen plucked her from the chair, holding her against his chest. “I will burn the books. I will only study you from now on.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said, wrapping her legs around his waist, inhaling the intoxicating scent of soap and male from his neck. “But I won’t stop you.”
His rusty laugh sent a smile breaking across her face. But soon his mirth turned into a low moan of need. “I can’t hold you like this much longer, my gift.” His hands dropped to her backside and abused it with rough hands. “Not without filling your pussy with come.”
Morgan’s core constricted so hard, she saw stars. “Do it. Please.”
“No, we will be late to my brother’s house. And I need to be sure you’re not pleasing your daddy at the cost of your own pain.” Their mouths tangled in a damp, hungry kiss, Morgan reeling over the lust generated inside her by that title. Daddy. “Later I will have time to prepare you with my mouth and ease into your cunt so slow, you will not feel any pain when the beast comes out to play.”
I want to play with him now. She almost screeched the words but forced herself to stay silent as Rixen let her slide slowly down his body, their sexes dragging over one another. His expression was one of regret as he stepped away and continued to prepare her breakfast. “You did not notice your present on the table?”
Frowning, Morgan scanned the surface of the beautiful antique tabletop. And when her gaze landed on the Nikon FM10, her jaw dropped. “Wait. This is your camera?”
He hesitated to answer while flipping the stove burner back on. “Possession is nine tenths of the law.”
“Rixen.”
“A tourist did not fare so well with the alligators,” he said on a sigh. “That was his camera. Now it’s yours.”
Morgan pursed her lips. “I should be more conflicted about this.” She picked up the camera and turned it on, checking the settings. There was an unused roll of film inside and she immediately lifted the viewfinder to her eyes and…possibilities exploded in every corner of the room. Rixen. God, she could photograph him all day. From his granite face to his mammoth body to the gentleness in his eyes when he watched her sometimes. Like he was doing now. Breathless, she lowered the camera. “It’s a great camera. Mine is newer, but it’s lacking something. Character, maybe? You would feel the pictures writing themselves on the film with this camera.”
Rixen’s expression was unreadable. “You love it. Taking pictures.”
“Yeah. I do. I…”
He set down a plate of eggs and butter-slathered toast in front of her. “You what?”
Morgan bought herself some time to answer by biting into the bread—and oh my god. It was the most delicious bread she’d ever tasted. “Mmmm. Um.” She swallowed. “I do love photography. But I love the leisure of it. Does that make sense? I’m kind of dreading it becoming a job. Will I still love it if I’m forced or on a deadline? I don’t know.” She took another bite and fell back in her chair. “Did you make this bread yourself?”
Rixen grunted an absent confirmation and sat down across from her, rubbing a thumb along his bottom lip. “It sounds like you weren’t looking forward too much to college.”
“Weren’t? As in, past tense.” She stopped chewing and set the hunk of bread down. “That’s one way to remind me I’m being held against my will.”
“Your legs wrapped around my hips of their own free will just a moment ago.” Morgan couldn’t respond. Not with his hot eyes tracking over her and leaving fire in their wake. “Tell me what you would do with your future. If the decision was yours alone.”
Her entire life had been mapped out by overzealous parents. She’d never actually taken the time to prod her own aspirations without factoring in their wishes. “I…would travel. I would find a place and learn its secrets through the lens of my camera. And I’d just be on my own schedule. No one to impress. No time constraints.”