He dropped a kiss on her forehead, another on her jaw. “You know I’m not going to hurt you, right?”
Slowly, she nodded. “You…You’re right.”
“And your friend Reggie. He might be guilty, yes. He might not. Until we know more, don’t assume anything.”
Morgan shook her head. “But he’s totally into photography. No one else—”
“I understand. Just wait. Deke will keep digging. For now, I think it’s important that you don’t talk to Reggie, not until we know more. Had you planned to call him, check in?”
“I tried yesterday. I can’t get a cell signal out here.”
“No.” Jack shook his head. “Most people can’t. Will he raise some red flag if you don’t call?”
“Not for a while; a few more days probably.”
“Hopefully, we’ll have this sorted out by then. Until then, don’t assume the worst. We have one fact that doesn’t make things look good for Reggie, but nothing is absolute. And even if he is guilty, you know he can’t find you here, right?”
Wherever here was… “Right.”
“In the meantime, I’m here to protect you.”
“Why?” Why would he go so far out in a limb for her? “You don’t have to keep that promise.”
“Yes, I do.” He nuzzled her neck, teeth nipping at her lobe as his hot breath fanned in her ear. “Besides, with you, it’s about more than protection.”
Morgan shivered. She became aware of his fingers sliding up her arms to clamp around her wrists again, his legs pinning her own beneath him once more, the heat transferring between them, down the line of their bodies. And the stalk of his erection, thick, long, insistent.
“So much more,” he whispered. “You amaze me. You are smart enough to stay one step ahead of a very determined psycho. Sweet enough to addict me. Stubborn enough to defy me. Strong enough to work to break into TV, which I know is a tough business.”
The nicest compliment Andrew had ever paid her was to claim she was dazzling. Great, so she filled out a dress well. Whoopee. But Jack’s words drizzled onto her one at a time like hot fudge on a sundae, coating her fear with something soothing and wonderful
A man out to hurt her wouldn’t care if she was smart, sweet, stubborn, or strong. Even more, he’d paid attention to her. Her—the deep-down person she was.
Jack was getting to her, slowly making her melt. With a press of his hips against her sex, she melted a bit more. A flare of arousal ignited and spread through her body. With a sharp inhalation, she took the scent of him into her nose. He lingered there: leather, man, cypress, mystery. The urge—the ache—to press up and meet him gripped her.
“You puzzle me, too,” he murmured against her skin, pretending not to notice how she tensed against him. “You took a big risk in digging beyond your own uncertainty and starting a TV show that encourages people to explore their sexuality, whatever it is. But you hesitate to explore your own. Why?”
“I explored. I’m just not sure I want to be…held down or restrained or—”
“Tied to my bed? You like being at my mercy.”
“I don’t want to work that way! It’s not normal.”
“It’s perfectly ‘normal’ not to want straight vanilla sex. You’re not wired for that, cher.”
“I’ve got to be. I want to be!”
Before Jack, she’d never had a man bring her to multiple orgasms. It didn’t seem possible that he was only able to because he tied her down and filled her head with wicked suggestions of submission and other dirty deeds she had only fantasized about. That wasn’t it. Any way he touched her would be mind-blowing because she found the man himself irresistible. The pleasure he gave her had nothing to do with his domination.
“I know you wish you were.” He smoothed a tangle of wild, flame-colored hair back from her face. “But if you’d let me, I’d help you. I want to show you that your desires are not only perfectly normal, but totally wonderful.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“You’re burying your head in the sand and wasting yourself on what you want to be true, rather than what is,” he growled, frustration tightening his mouth.
Morgan shook her head. No. A thousand times no.
But she feared he was right. Something deep inside her flowered at his words. Hope, need, yearning. It was all there, every bit she’d tried to push down, block from her conscious mind. A part of her—a big part—wanted to gobble up everything he had to offer.
“Why are you running from yourself?”
Andrew’s ugly slurs replayed in Morgan’s head, slashing deep at her self-confidence. You’re depraved. Only a whore wants that!
As the tension ramped up in her body, so did Jack’s grip on her wrists. He drew one hand from her own to slide against her naked cheek. The warmth of his palm against her cool skin brought her completely back to the present. Back to the fact that Jack lay on top of her, his big body taut and tense and spread out, completely covering her.
“Why are you the way you are?” she challenged. “Does there have to be a reason?”
“I can cuff you to this bed,” he growled. “Order your sweet submission, fuck you half the night and get you off half a dozen times.”
Desire gouged her belly like a hot sword at his terrible, provocative words. Morgan closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, ignoring her dampening sex, and shook her head. “The only thing I want you to get is the hell off me.”
She bucked beneath him, trying to throw him off her body. He didn’t budge.
“I can feel your nipples stabbing my chest and your pussy getting all sweet and damp for me. I’m right, and you know it.”
“I know you’re pushy! Maybe I don’t want to be ordered or bound or made to submit. Maybe I just want to be touched. Held. In the regular way.”
He raised a dark brow. “You think you want vanilla sex?”
“Traditional,” she corrected. “Absolutely.”
Jack hesitated, his dark eyes scanning her face. The disbelief etched there played havoc with her composure.
“We have some…chemistry. I’m not denying that,” she rattled. “I just think we’d find plenty of pleasure together without the ropes and commands.”
Staring, Jack appeared to be sorting through the possibilities. Quickly, he came to a conclusion. And he smiled.