Possessing Morgan:
A Matter of Conviction
by Aurelia
Part 2
See Part 1 for Disclaimers
Chapter 2
As predicted, Morgan did not sleep well. She was lucky to get four hours as she tossed and turned on her rumpled bed, well after the heat wave had broken in the middle of the night. She now sat in her chair at work, her chin buried in her open hands as she stared vacantly at open files strewn across her desk.
“Looks like you could use this.”
Morgan didn’t even bother looking up but just extended her hand for the mug that she knew would be there in a matter of seconds. A quiet chuckle tickled her ears as Henry complied with the silent request.
“Have problems sleeping?” And he knew very well what was causing her insomnia.
“No… just ran 10 miles this morning. I’m exhausted.”
“I know damned well you didn’t. You hate running.” Well, you sure as hell ran like the Devil was on your tail last night… “You were a little rough on Andy last night.”
She looked up into dark brown eyes that saw everything. “She has no right being here.”
“You think so? Why?”
“Oh, come on, Henry. A society girl like her doesn’t belong here. She should be out searching for some rich husband to look after her.”
“You didn’t see the ring then, I take it.”
“Ring?” Morgan’s head shot up.
“And you call yourself a detective…” Henry’s comment was tempered with a wide grin. “But... if you behave yourself, I’ll fill you in.”
“I don’t want to know.” Morgan mumbled into her coffee cup, acting the spoiled child.
“Of course you want to know. Don’t give me any of that crap.”
“Crap, Henry? Bullshit. It’s bullshit, Henry.”
“Do you want to hear or not?”
“No, but I suppose you’re gonna tell me anyway…”
“She’s engaged.” He observed his partner’s face carefully, watching the freckles dance across her cheeks as her features stiffened at that bit of news. “They’re getting married in about eleven months. He’s back in Charleston finishing up their business and then he’s moving here.” He hesitated then foolishly plowed on ahead, resting a hand next to the open file and leaning down next to her ear. “So, that gives you a few weeks to make an impression.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” She dare not look into those inscrutable eyes that were so close to her own.
“Don’t worry. No one else knows.”
“How do you know?”
“Oh, come on. I’ve known you nearly three years and in all that time you’ve never gone out once.”
“I most certainly have. Lots of times, and with men as I recall.”
“Those were official functions and you never saw them again.”
“Since when did you become my social director?”
“Mo…,” he spoke softly, “… there's obviously something there. Don’t waste this opportunity because you’re only gonna get one chance at this.”
“You’ve been watching too much TV, buddy. I only just met the damn woman. And where do you get this idea that I’m interested in her anyway?”
A raised eyebrow answered her question, but she stared back at him steadily. “You know, Red, you must think I’m deaf, dumb and blind sometimes otherwise you wouldn’t be asking that question right now.”
Had she been that transparent? How could he know? They was no way in hell that he could. She had not been even remotely interested in anyone long before he knew her, so there was no way he could know anything. Or was there? “Well I am asking, bucko. Just because there is no one in my life at present doesn’t suggest anything at all. So, drop it, okay?”
“And what about what’s his name the other week? You cut him off at the knees before he even opened his mouth. What is the matter with you?”
“He was a jerk, Henry. A complete idiot. Why would I go out with him?”
“Morgan, if you’re gonna play the game you got to go out with someone. This nun act ain’t cutting it.”
“That’s not it at all. I’ve just not found the right person… yet.”
“Do you hear yourself? You said ‘the right person’, not ‘the right man’. You can’t even lie about it.” He shifted a little closer. “Come on, what have you got to lose?”
She hesitated. How could she think that she could hide this from him forever? “I can’t Henry… especially not now,” she whispered.
He tried another tack. “Well, at least stop the hostility and get to know her. She hasn’t done anything to deserve it, you know. Besides, all she did was talk about you after you left.” I am a bad boy.
“Cursing me, no doubt.”
“At first, yes, but she kept asking me questions about you.” Henry watched as a long finger idly traced the words on the page in front of him, knowing he had planted the seed of doubt, and maybe even some hope, in a friend who had been alone way too long. He only hoped she wasn’t too damned stubborn to do something about it before it was too late.
Henry glanced up as the door swung open. ”Well, here’s your chance then.” Looking back, he saw a fleeting look of terror cross his partner’s face. He had seen many things on that beautiful face - anger, determination, thoughtfulness among them - but never terror. Watching Andrea approach the coffee maker with a brand new mug in her hand, he caught her brief glance towards Morgan, who shuffled papers to cover being caught by the small blonde. “I think I need a refill, Morgan. Would you please grab me one while I finish up here?” He blithely ignored the deadly stare she gave him as she snatched the mug from his grasp.
“I’ll get you for this…” she sputtered, the sound of the shifting chair covering the muttered expletives escaping her lips.
Morgan now knew how those condemned prisoners felt when they walked the Green Mile in that movie - feeling your heart pumping at a frantic rate yet knowing that death is at the end of the road. That’s how she felt, and knowing there was no chance of a reprieve, even more so. Dark-colored eyes watched her approach, and she felt a light sweat break out on her pale skin. “Ah, Detective, good morning.”
“Good...” her voice broke on the word. Clearing her throat, she began again. “Good morning, Counselor. Are you settling in okay?” She turned around to look back at Henry, watching a wide grin split his face as his hands motioned her to continue.
“I am, thank you very much, Detective.”
“You… ah… you can call me Morgan, Counselor.”
Surprised eyes rose to look straight at her, wondering what on earth had happened to garner this favorable reaction. “Okkaaaayyy. Then, by all means, please call me Andrea.”
“And how has your first morning been so far?”
“Not bad. Basically, I’m just acquainting myself with some of the cases I'll be handling. This afternoon I’ll be in court to observe, just getting a feel for the New York City judicial system.”
“Good to hear. Everyone treating you okay?” She dare not look into those eyes because she knew she was the guilty party.
There was a slight hesitation before the counselor answered softly. “Yes, now they are.” Morgan could feel the blush heat her skin, knowing very well that her freckles would be flaming by now. Damn her light Irish complexion!
“Er… I hope the Three Musketeers are not giving you too much trouble.”
“Three Musketeers?”
“Morelli and his cronies. He likes to test the waters, so to speak.”
“Well, I think I cooled his ardor a bit last night.” When she saw the look of inquiry, Andrea explained. “I threatened to cut his balls off.” Carrott-colored eyebrows traveled up a disbelieving forehead. “Then I offered to throw in his eyeballs for free when I caught him looking down my blouse.”
Morgan had to admit she really liked this woman. She sure wished she had been present to see Morelli’s undoing at the hands of the counselor. The image was so vivid that she couldn’t help but laugh, gratuitously enjoying the suffering inflicted on those three sorry pieces of humanity. She chuckled quietly, shaking her head in amazement. The woman had emasculated her nemesis with a few well chosen verbal barbs.
Andrea stepped back and observed the young woman in front of her. She was a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis. Lines disappeared under the look of sheer joy that crossed her face, leaving in its wake two dimples that winked enticingly at her. Years fell away from the tall detective and she once again had the image of that young whippersnapper just starting out as a rookie cop.
“What I would have given to have seen that. I bet his eyeballs nearly popped out of his head!”
“Well, if you hadn’t have left, you could have.”
“No, I had to.” Morgan hesitated and shuffled her feet. “I’m sorry, Andrea,” she mumbled, “… it was very rude of me.”
“Yes it was.” Morgan had expected a brush off, not a confirmation. “But I’ll live. All I ask is that you give me a chance to prove myself.”
“Are you any good?”
“Good?” Andrea just couldn’t help but tease the woman… just a little bit. “Well now, I’m very...very... good when I am properly motivated.”
Morgan swallowed loudly before clearing her throat. “And what does it take to properly motivate you?”
“Well now, Detective, that could be a little personal. A girl must have some mystery, especially in my line of work.” Wide eyes watched her and she relented. “Okay, if you really have to know I have a case tomorrow morning at District Court 1. If you have the time, please stop by for the show.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Morgan knew she would be there even if she broke every bone in her body, but somehow she had to convince herself not to go.
“Good. I hope I can create a good impression then. So… um… I better get back to work.”
“Until tomorrow then... Andrea. Ah... good luck.” Morgan turned around to find all eyes on her. “What? Just being friendly, that’s all.” She heard the quiet snickers. “God, grow up will ya? Get back to work.” Stomping off back to her desk, she gave her partner a death stare as she approached. “Now look what you’ve done. It’s gonna be all over the station house now.”
“I didn’t do a thing.” He held up his hands in supplication, watching the storm clouds cross over Morgan’s brow. “You did it all yourself.”
“What did I do? I was just being friendly like you wanted me to.”
“Uh huh.”
“And just for that, you and I are going to the gym at lunch so I can pound you into the mat for trying to play Cupid.”
“Me? I don’t think so.”
“Henry…,” she growled, “…just stay out of this, alright? Nothing is going on.” He just stood there smiling. Morgan knew the cat was out of the bag now, and she hoped her trust in her partner was well founded.
“Uh huh.”
“Drop it.” Morgan’s voice deepened, and Henry took the hint.
“O’Callaghan!” Markham bellowed across the room.
“Sir?” What have I done now? She searched her mind for any current breach that would get her in trouble.
“Where is that damn report? Markiewicz! Remember? It was supposed to be on my desk first thing!”
“Oh, sh… It’s done, sir. Give me a second and I’ll print it out.” She looked up to see the other detectives laughing at her expense, glad that they were not the ones to be on the end of the captain’s tirade. Shoving aside one of the younger members of the division she quickly accessed the file on the computer and pressed print, silently willing the paper out of the machine double time. She trotted up to the front, handed over the offending report and shuffled away before the captain could comment.
As she passed Morelli’s desk, he pursed his lips and kissed the air. “Laugh it up. You’re next, cupcake…” she muttered.
As if he had read her mind, the captain bellowed, “Morelli, in my office. NOW!” A subtle smile touched her face as she made her way back to her desk.
* * *
Lunchtime couldn’t come quick enough for Morgan. She was pushed and prodded by her fellow detectives, forcing her to withdraw even more into her shell to protect herself from their taunts. The Three Musketeers were in fine form, bored out of their skulls and centering their attention on her. In a way, she felt sorry for Henry because he was going to get pounded on even more. Maybe she should take some of her frustration out on a punching bag first before giving Henry the same treatment.
“Hey, Henry!” The young man looked up from the computer at her call. “I’m heading off early to get a jump on the equipment. See you in about ten?”
“Sure, I’ll just finish up this report and I'll be right behind you.” He went back to the keyboard, competently finding his way round the alphabet.
Morgan headed towards the locker room, nearly running into Andrea as she wandered along the corridor engrossed in a file. “Whoa! Hey there, Counselor…”
The petite blonde looked up, surprising Morgan with her wire-rimmed glasses. “Sorry, Detective. I didn’t see you there.”
Morgan stood there entranced, looking at those delicate glasses perched on Andrea’s fine, up-turned nose, barely grazing the beauty mark that sat high on her left cheek. They seemed to draw her attention to those liquid brown eyes gazing at her, and for a moment she was lost. She took a step back, snapping out of her reverie. “Um… sorry…” Brushing past the Assistant DA, Morgan moved to the locker room, rummaging through her locker for her duffel bag and slamming the metal door shut with a bang.
She could feel a blush warming her face, making each and every freckle jump out in vivid relief. Her brisk walk along the street broke into a run as she covered the block to the gym in about a minute and a half. Quickly she changed into shorts and a tank top, binding her hands carefully to protect against damage.
Facing the leather bag, she sighed deeply, letting the emotions of the day surface to feed her strength and speed as she started to pummel the bag. In the past she had mentally pasted a picture of Morelli on it. Today brought another image to mind but she was loathe to hit it. First her self-imposed celibacy, and now the proverbial apple being dangled in front of her, was more than enough to overcome her initial reticence. She was lonely, she was frustrated and now she was horny. Something had to give... and soon.
The bag felt like a brick wall against her fist, the pain shifting up her arms to her shoulders as she punched. Her mind drifted to the morning’s conversation with Henry. Since the arrival of the new ADA it was like a magnetic field surrounded them drawing them together. Maybe that was what Henry was picking up, because she sure as hell wasn't trying to give out any hints.
“You took your own sweet time,” she growled at her approaching partner. She had been impatiently waiting for Henry, eagerly wanting to throw something around. Maybe she secretly wanted a bit of pain to bring herself back down to earth.
“Sorry. Markham caught me as I was about to leave. He had a couple of questions about my report. Ready to eat the mat, Big Red?”
“I don’t think so, pal. I’m just in the mood for a little Chinese.”
“Ha ha, very funny Red. Do your best.”
“Oh, I intend to, especially after that prank you pulled this morning.”
“Well, someone had to, Mo.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, shifting his attention to her hands as she circled him.
“No, you didn’t. Ha!” She launched her attack, lashing out with her right foot towards his mid-section, connecting with a slap. Henry doubled over momentarily, backing away and rubbing his stomach.
“That’s one for you, oh grasshopper. And that’s all you’re gonna get.” Henry enjoyed the light banter. He really liked his partner, of whose sharp wit and boundless loyalty he was lucky to be the recipient. He knew inside this woman was a mischievous kid waiting to come out. Who had forced her to bury herself away from the world?
For the next twenty minutes they exchanged blows, holding back the power in an effort not to injure the other. Each wanted to win, but not to actually inflict pain. Well, not too much pain. Their bodies shifted to and fro in an elaborate dance performed with deadly grace. Each knew the other well and took advantage of the known weaknesses. It was rather cathartic to punch the hell out of someone, and she was only glad that Henry knew how to take a punch.
Morgan thought she finally had her partner on the ground when he reached up and yanked her to the mat by her hair.
“Hey! No fair!”
“Probably not, but I doubt the bad guys have read the rule book, Morgan.” She rolled away from him, not wanting to start rumors by being seen tangled up with her partner. Both lay panting, allowing a few quiet moments to catch their breath. “Why don’t you cut your hair?”
“Well, I would… but think Whoopi Goldberg.”
Henry looked over to his partner’s face, trying to imagine her with shorter hair. “I’m tending to think more a Sixties flower child, but your image works just as well. Why not cut it real short then? Get rid of the frizz altogether?”
“Oh, great. Then I’ll look like a dyke.”
“Aren’t they calling you that now?” He grinned to take the sting out of the comment.
“I have one word for you… Morelli. He thinks I’m butch as it is. No steady male presence, I dress like a guy, now the arrival of the counselor and if I have short hair that’ll really do it.”
“Would it be that bad?”
“You know that I don’t give a rat’s ass what they think. They’re
morons, Henry, and you know it.”
”Then what is it?”
“I want to go for a promotion, Henry.” She knew this was news to him, having only decided recently to apply. “I’ve gotta appear squeaky clean. The last thing I need is Morelli stirring up trouble. Besides, there’s no one in my life, why bring it up?”
“Because it is who you are, Morgan.” He reached across to take her hand, showing his support.
“Thanks. It means a lot to me, Henry.”
“There’s still the counselor.”
“No. She’s not an option.”
“Why not? She’s not married… yet.”
“But she’s taken. It’s the same thing. Besides, she’s not interested in women.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Hello? She’s marrying a MAN!”
“Uh huh.”
“Will you stop saying that!”
“Well, listen to yourself. Who are you trying to convince here?”
“Me, Henry. Me.”
“Well, these eyes see a mutual attraction whether you admit it or not.”
“There are a number of reasons why I won’t let this happen.”
“And I can see one why you will.”
“And that would be…?” Why was she asking this? She didn’t want to know.
“You know.” Yeah, I know. She sighed deeply, more confused than ever.
Henry stood, extending his hand down to help Morgan to her feet. “Meet you in ten outside, okay? Just enough time to grab something quick to eat.”
“Fine.” She dragged herself off to the showers for a quick wash down, foregoing washing her hair until after work. It was moments like these that she wished for that short hair, where washing was a matter of minutes instead of being a major military operation to wash, dry and corral the wayward hair into some means of control. While she justified to herself all the practical reasons for keeping it long, deep in her heart was one more reason, less logical but by no means less compelling. She was an Irish lass to the core and the mass of long red hair was at the heart of it.
She stood under the lukewarm water, briskly rubbing suds over her fair skin. Morgan tried vainly not to think of anything but getting clean, especially not one small brown-eyed blonde beauty who seemed to be occupying her every thought lately. Before she got herself into trouble, she grabbed the cold tap, twisting it around sharply until the cold water brought goose bumps to her skin.
* * *
It had taken her a fraction over the allocated ten minutes to emerge from the building, finding Henry talking to one of the other detectives in the division. “Okay, Charlie, catch you later.”
“What was that all about?”
“Oh, nothing, just organizing going to McGee’s after work. You in?”
“Not tonight, thanks. Hair washing night, you know?” She dismissed his disapproving stare. “What?” She grabbed her braid. “You think this stuff washes itself?”
“Of course it does. If it was that much trouble you wouldn’t keep it.”
“I’ll let you in on a secret. It’s about the only thing that I will take my time over.” She held the long braid in her hand. “This is who I am, Henry. It’s more than hair to me. It’s my last connection to my childhood… to my mother… to dad.” One slim hand touched her shoulder in comfort. “That’s why I don’t want to cut it. I lose the braid and I lose my past.”
“Oh, Morgan. Your past is more than a length of hair.”
“I know that… I do, but my thoughts are running on emotion here, not logic. This is my last physical reminder of my roots, my home.’ She sighed. “My dad. He was everything to me. My only family.”
“What about your brothers?”
“How do you know about them?”
“You mentioned them quite a while ago, just once. I assumed things weren’t so good so I never brought it up.”
“You’re right, they weren’t and they aren’t.”
“You gonna tell me what happened?” Henry slowed his walk, trying to buy some time.
“Let’s just say they took off when mom died and never came back. One day I’ll tell you the whole story.”
“One day?”
“One day when I can talk about it without getting pissed off.”
“Oh. Well, what about McGee’s? Andy might be there.”
“Andy? Since when do you call her Andy?”
“Since she let me last night. You missed out on a lot when you stomped out.”
“I did not stomp out.” This whole conversation about Andrea had been going on way too long for Morgan’s liking. It was bad enough that every thought she had was about her, now every single word was about her as well. “Can we just drop this, please?”
“Okay. It’s your loss.”
They stopped off at the local deli and picked up sandwiches in quick succession.
“What did you buy that for? We have coffee back at the precinct.”
“It’s always nice to have real coffee from time to time, Henry. Not that brown-colored water that passes for it.” She was almost tempted to stop in the street and have a good long drink, but time was running short and they would be chewing double-time to finish before their lunch break was over.
“So, what’s on the agenda for this afternoon?”
“Not much, I think. Damn, it’s been quiet.”
“Yeah, you notice that too?”
“Yep. Something’s gotta give soon. So, I guess it’s boring paperwork until then, unless of course, Markham decides to spring something on us.”
“Oh, please, don’t even think that out loud.”
* * *
Morgan made a conscientious effort to bring all her files up to date that afternoon, growling over the keyboard as her fingers slowed to a snail’s pace looking for letters that were there only moments before. Internally she kicked, she screamed, she moaned and generally threw a tantrum at having to spend so much time doing something she absolutely abhorred, but she finally finished.
Sitting back studying her handiwork, Morgan once again considered her decision to apply for a promotion. The further she moved up the ladder, the more she would be behind a desk and mountains of paperwork. Is that what she really wanted? She loved the thrill of the chase and using her intellect to outthink her prey. Then, of course, there was the danger aspect as well. She would lose all that with a promotion. Maybe I need to re-think this…
* * *
Morgan dragged her sorry ass home, detouring to the local Chinese restaurant for takeout. She knew it was unhealthy to be eating so much fast food, but she was no cook. It was something she didn’t get from her mom… or her dad either. Hmm, must have missed that particular gene.
Her mind flashed back to those early days when her mom tried to pass down the family recipes to her daughter. But Morgan’s mind was outside with her brothers playing stickball, hide and seek or just kicking a ball around. Potatoes were potatoes and cabbage was cabbage. Her small mind saw them as vegetables and not food.
“Honey?” The mild accent of her mother intruded into her thoughts. “Morgan? Sweetheart? Are you paying attention?”
“Yes, mama,” she replied automatically, but both of them knew her heart wasn’t really into it.
“Go on, little one. No point in teaching you today. Go and enjoy the sunshine.” After that, her mother gave up trying to change a rambunctious child who lived to play.
* * *
Henry had tried to talk her into going with them to the pub but she was worn out, more mentally than physically. Andrea emerged from her office and all Morgan wanted to do was escape, to go home and hopefully not think about her pathetic life.
She sat back, beer in hand, surveying the half-empty Chinese takeout containers that were the remains of her dinner. Sighing, she stood, removing the cardboard boxes and placing them in the refrigerator, wondering how long it would take before they became alien life forms and made a bid to take over the winter wasteland inside the aging appliance. They could have it, but she’d sure as hell fight for the beer.
Morgan made her way to the bedroom, stripping off her work clothes and throwing them into the wash pile, steeling herself for washing her hair. It was still slightly damp from the tussle at lunchtime and her scalp started to itch with the sweat. She faced herself in the mirror, critically eyeing her naked form for the first time in quite a while. Somehow she just couldn’t see what the attraction would be for someone else. The first obvious fault to her was the freckles liberally splattered over her pale skin. That’s gotta be a turn off.
Trying to look past that flaw, she took in her shape, pleased to realize that while not ‘buff’, as some would call it, she wasn’t skinny or fat either. She turned to see that her ass was still firm, still holding its shape well and not looking like a soggy grape. Chuckling at that thought, she faced the front again, taking in her breasts. Although not full, they still had some substance to them, managing to still sit high on her chest with very little sag. Her hands rose to cup herself, feeling the weight in her palms. She closed her eyes and imagined that it was someone else’s hands touching her… no, she knew whose hands she wanted, but putting a name to the phantom would only cause her pain.
Still, she had put her libido in motion and there was no way she could stop herself from finding relief. She opened her eyes, watching long fingers glide over her coral nipples, teasing, tormenting and begging them to come out to play. Green orbs traveled down the image before her, convincing herself that she was a voyeur in this particular scenario, watching as the young woman in the mirror succumbed to the long fingers exploring her naked torso. She looked down to see the evidence that the woman was indeed a true redhead, dark orange curls hiding the sensual heart of her.
Morgan couldn’t remember the last time she had made love with somebody, and her mind vehemently refused to present any images to remind her of what she didn’t have. With nothing to draw on, her mind eagerly sought out her fantasy lover, the one whom she had sworn not to touch. Those arms shortened and the fingers became more delicate, but the strength in them as they roamed over her stirred her blood, and she shamelessly watched as those same fingers found her and claimed her, driving her higher and higher until she could do little but yield to her passion.
Her cries echoed around the empty room, a name escaping her lips that she hadn’t realized she had spoken. As she trudged into the bathroom she realized sadly that she was not satisfied. She would never truly be satisfied until she came into her life and into her bed.
* * *
Andrea was well pleased with her first day at her new job. While she didn’t get to practice any real law, the time was well spent watching other ADAs in action, picking up the slight nuances in court protocol that changed from one state to the other.
She felt the loneliness at night in her hotel room, silently wishing for those dinners around the table with family and friends. She was quite often at odds with her parents, especially her mother who seemed to feel she had a right to run her only daughter’s life. But it was that familiarity that she sought, the easy comfort and company that she missed. She was homesick.
She had begged off going to the pub with the detectives, claiming she had an early start in court tomorrow. While Henry would be there, Morgan would not, and somehow that took away the need to go. Why was that?
She had just emerged from a shower when the phone rang. “Hello?” She tried to make herself comfortable on the bed but the towel tangled itself around her body. “Dang it! Hang on!” Pulling back the blankets, she stripped off the offending material, lying down on the bed naked and feeling the cool sheet brush against her freshly scoured skin. “Sorry, hello?”
“Andrea? Sugar?”
“Joel. How are you, honey?”
“I’m fine. Are you alright?”
“Yeah. Just had a shower and got tangled up in the towel.”
There was silence on the other end. “And… what are you wearing now?”
Mischievously, she answered, “Why, nothing at all, darlin’.” The exaggerated moan on the other end of the phone sent her into a fit of giggles. “Well, you asked.”
“Don’t do this to me, Andrea. It’s hard enough as it is being separated from you.”
“Hard, is it?” She heard the visible swallow on the line. “How hard?” What had gotten into her tonight?
“You okay?” Joel’s voice croaked, tension lacing his words.
“I’m just peachy, Joel. I just had a good day today, that’s all.” There was heavy breathing on the other end of the phone, and if she didn’t know it was her fiancé she would have thought she had gotten a dirty phone call. “You alright, honey?”
“No, I’m not, thanks very much to you.”
“Go and grab a cold shower and I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I have an early start here.” Another moan. “You know, you do dirty phone calls really well, Joel.” She thought she could hear a growl, but she wasn’t sure. In her best bedroom voice, she whispered, “Good night, lover, sleep well,” knowing damned well that she had ensured that he wouldn’t.
What had she done? This mindless little game served no purpose but to frustrate the hell out of both of them. Somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind was the answer but it lingered just out of reach from her consciousness. Did she want to know?
She rolled over to hang up the phone, enjoying the feel of the crisp linen brushing against her sensitized skin. Undulating gently, the material brushed her nipples, slowly teasing them to erectness and fanning the embers that had started with the phone conversation. Andrea knew she should get some sleep, but what the hell, it felt so damned good.
Shifting onto her back, Andrea looked up at the ceiling, allowing images of Joel to float in her mind’s eye. Busy fingers wasted no time in teasing, but slid straight to the heat of her, feeling as if they belonged to another, but she was little aware that the dark eyes of her fiancé had slowly changed to a sea green or that the low timbre of his voice had lightened, seeking only the temporary gratification that such an act would provide. As she cried out her release, she didn’t even notice when she quietly slipped into peaceful slumber.
* * *
Andrea awoke to complete darkness, but she was not alone. She knew a tongue on her breast when she felt one, and there was definitely one lingering there now. Reaching for the bedside lamp, she illuminated the room.
“Joel, honey? How did you get here?” Didn’t she only talk to him in Charleston a few hours before? “Oh, God!” A gentle nip blanketed her mind in passion. She looked down to see the last person she expected to see.
“How the… unnhhh…. How the hell did you get in here?” Passionate green eyes looked up from their position over her right breast.
“American Express. Don’t leave home without it.”
“You bribed the desk clerk?”
“I jimmied the lock.”
“That’s… oh, Christ...!” Sharp teeth grazed over a sensitive nipple. “…illegal, detective.”
Morgan’s face rose from her breast. In a seductive whisper, she spoke, “I know,” before returning to her work at driving the Assistant DA crazy.
Andrea’s head dropped to the pillow, her mind in a flurry of confusion and arousal. She had never been with a woman before, but how could she ignore what her body was telling her? And Joel? What about Joel? Forget him…, her mind whispered. Enjoy what she is doing…
While Andrea held court in her mind, Morgan’s lips moved, slowly descending the slim body underneath her, randomly tasting the veritable feast laid out in front of her, dipping her tongue into the indentation of her belly button and feeling the answering rumble as she tickled it.
Her long fingers grabbed handfuls of tissue and muscle, surprised at the solid, well toned body of the young blonde. She had always thought she would be soft and pliable from being a society debutante after all, but it seemed that the counselor had surprised her again.
Morgan felt the muscles shift and play under her roughened fingertips as Andrea’s legs moved to accept her. A gentle smile touched her lips as she moved, slowly painting the counselor’s skin with her tongue as she herself was being painted.
The riot of sensation this woman was stirring in her was unlike anything Andrea had ever known. Vainly, she tried to picture the image of Joel, valiantly trying to remind herself that she was engaged to be married to a man who was shifting heaven and earth just to be with her. But Morgan… Morgan, with one touch had made her forget her past, her man, her very identity, leaving her adrift on a sea of indecision and confusion. She thought she knew what she wanted, but now…
At that precise moment Morgan had found her and she stood on the precipice, unable to stop the slowly building tide approaching her, created by the insistent demands of the tall redhead moving over her. She breathed in a rapid staccato, barely able to catch that one more breath to live. So close….
* * *
Andrea awoke with a start, her sweat-slicked body heaving as she dragged in great gulps of air. Collapsing to the bed, her mind desperately tried to pull together the slowly scattering pieces of her dream before they were lost forever. What did it all mean? She was thinking perhaps she didn’t want to know…
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