Morgans Muse Read online

  "Don't think about him. He nearly killed you."

  Banishing her ex-fiancé from her mind, she retrieved her laptop from its case and settled at the butcher block table. "Hmm, what to write now," she murmured, plugging the machine into the wall outlet and turning it on to boot up. She opened a new file in her word processing program and stared at the blinking cursor in the corner of the page. Images flashed in her mind. The man emerged from the waterfall, bare skin gleaming in the moon light. Without conscious thought, her fingers flew over the keyboard, racing to record in explicit detail everything she either experienced or dreamed the previous night.

  The incident duly recorded, Morgan scrolled to the beginning and read every word, every sensual detail she'd captured on paper. Face flushed hot, pulse pounding, heart racing, she stared at the screen. "Well," she said on a slow exhale. "You can still write. Just needed some inspiration."

  A low growl rumbled in her stomach and she chuckled. Glancing at her watch, she blinked. Early evening? "No wonder you're hungry."

  She pushed the wooden chair back and stood up. Pain streaked across her shoulders and lower back, protesting any further movement. After stretching out the kinks, she eyed the hard-backed chair. Her gaze slid over the computer screen and she grinned. "If you're going to hole up in the woods and write, lay in a few supplies, especially food and a seat cushion." Snatching up keys and wallet, she headed for town.

  Morgan walked into Carrie's Diner and took a seat at the counter, the two chairs on either side of her empty. The clink of silverware on china and the delicious mingled odors of frying food filled the air. Her stomach growled, reminding her to stuff it with something before it shriveled up. She snatched up the menu and perused the list of offered items, willing her neglected stomach to behave.

  "Something to drink?" the young female voice pulled her attention away from the menu for a brief second and she looked up at the perky blond, hair in the expected bouncy ponytail. Carrie, she read on the girl's name tag. "You own this place?

  "No." The young waitress grinned. "My grandmother... I'm named for her and everyone in the family at one time or another has worked here."

  "Okay, I'll have iced tea and a beer, Budweiser. I want steak, medium rare, mashed potatoes and gravy, dinner salad with bleu cheese, a large bowl of chili, hot enough to scorch the sun, and for desert apple pie a la mode."

  Without missing a beat, the girl, no more than twenty at most, whipped out an order pad and scribbled for several seconds. "Both drinks at the same time?"

  "Beer first. Tea with dinner."

  "Lemon?"

  "Yep." Morgan slid the menu back into its metal rack and settled back in her brown vinyl chair.

  "If you can eat all that, I'll buy your dinner," a deep male voice said beside her.

  Jerking her head around, she stared at him. He'd placed his helmet on the counter but still wore sunglasses. "You!" She hissed it between her teeth, a harsh whisper. No one else needed to know what this asshole had done at the waterfall. He's real! Her mind reeled from the shock of seeing him in the flesh.

  He frowned. "I'm sorry?" Removing his sunglasses, he studied her through narrowed, blue eyes. He looks exactly like... oh god! But... could be trick of the dark with those eyes... "You were at the waterfall?"

  He shook his head, those incredible bright blue eyes holding her bewildered stare. "I just got in last night, and I'm staying in town, not at a waterfall. Michael Logan."

  "But you look just like..." Shut up, Morgan, or he'll think you're a loony! Obviously you're just confusing him with a figment of your imagination.

  "But he was so real."

  "Excuse me?" That deep voice rumbled over her senses, pulling her out of her thoughts.

  "Nothing. Sorry, thought you were someone else. I'm Morgan. Morgan Caine."

  He arched an elegant black eyebrow, but said nothing more on the subject as he perused his menu. Grateful for that small reprieve, Morgan sipped the beer the waitress had placed, unnoticed, in front of her.

  The cold, refreshing brew slid down her throat, soothing the senses and her sizzling nerves. Just a single glance from those eyes bored straight into her. Almost wish he'd put those sunglasses back on! A soft sigh escaped her. Such incredible eyes. Molten silver eyes settled in her mind, exactly like the eyes on the biker next to her except the color. Twins? Her pulse raced and her heart hammered in her chest. A single image scorched her brain, two men wrapped around her... Jesus, Morgan, get a grip! One isn't even real and this one... You don't need this. Get your mind off your pussy!

  That particular organ clenched as that searing image settled permanently into her brain. A plate slid onto the counter, the delicious scent of beef seared yet still dark pink teasing her nostrils. All other thoughts vanished as her stomach clamored for sustenance. Spicy red chili, hot enough to water her eyes just from the enticing smell, sat to the upper right of the plate while mashed potatoes swam in homemade beef gravy alongside the steak. Ignoring the salad, she cut off a barely manageable piece of the porterhouse and settled it on her tongue.

  Flavors exploded on her tongue, spreading over taste buds and all through her mouth as she chewed and swallowed, and then ate another piece. Oh, man! Heaven. Focused only on the food, she ate more steak and then scooped up a heaping spoonful of chili. Hot peppers and spices erupted on her tongue, energizing her senses, and she swallowed, savoring the fiery hot dish through several more bites. Her stomach greedily consumed all she sent it, chewing and swallowing with a unique pleasure owned only by those who really enjoy food. Her body separated the various flavors and scents and then recombined them into something nameless but nearly orgasmic. Swallowing the last bite, she let out a sigh of pleasure and dropped her fork onto the empty plate.

  "Now that was enlightening," the biker spoke, admiration in his tone. "What else do you do with such obvious pleasure in the moment?"

  "I happen to like good food, and that was good food." His question dropped into her mind and she gaped at him. "Did you really just say that?"

  He offered a wry grin. "Yeah, not the best line, but..." He trailed off, his gaze roaming her face for a long moment. "You're a sensualist."

  Face flushed hot, she drained the remainder of her iced tea and pulled her wallet from her pocket. "I'm sure. Nice, um, eating with you."

  Pushing the chair back, she stood up. Long elegant yet calloused fingers dropped on her arm, halting her flight. "You ate it all. It's on me."

  "You do not have to pay for my dinner." Morgan frowned and tugged on her arm until he released her. He took several bills out of his wallet, covering the cost of both meals, and she bolted, all but running out the door.

  Despite the flickering lights of the parking lot, darkness surrounded her as she traversed the asphalt toward her vehicle. Key ring in hand, she poked the key at the door, metal skidding across metal as she struggled to unlock the truck door. Just as the key slid into the hole, a hand settled on the door frame, holding it shut. Heart racing, she whirled and he shifted, pinning her to the truck door.

  "Couldn't have planned that better if I tried," he murmured, half closed eyes peering down into her face in a look of such slumberous desire her toes curled inside her boots.

  "Um..." The words she commanded on paper deserted her in speech as those mesmerizing blue eyes bored straight into her until she thought he might see her soul if he chose.

  He leaned closer, his breath warming her ear, stirring her senses into a cauldron of needs so strong she only stared up at him. Oh my god! If he kisses me, I'll...

  Morgan! Don't you dare! Logic screamed in her brain. He's a man.

  "He certainly is," she admitted under her breath, his body imprinted full length against hers. Pure male sex appeal called to everything feminine inside her. Her pussy clenched, clamoring for just the slightest touch. Oh...

  Resistance weakened, she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back with everything in her. Her lips parted on a soft inhale and he slid his tongue de
eper, caressing and exploring at leisure. Her breasts pressed against firm hard muscle, sharp thrills spiraling from her tits to her pussy in a single streak of lightning. Knees weak, she tightened her hold and he worked his knee between her legs. Kissing him as though her life depended on it, she settled against him, allowing his superior strength to support her.

  Only when her lungs burned for oxygen did she pull her mouth from his and suck in a deep breath, caught in those mysterious blue eyes. Morgan! Damn it, look before you leap this time! Common sense screamed in her brain, startling her out of the sexual haze.

  Struggling for composure when she couldn't even catch her breath, she tilted her head back. "You bought dinner and now you want sex?"

  He shook his head, amusement sparking in his eyes as his lips twitched. "No, a bet's a bet and I never welsh. This is separate. I wanted to taste you, to know what your lips felt like under mine, your body against mine."

  "And?" she blurted before even realizing the question resided in her mind. Her face flushed hot and she closed her eyes on a low groan. Oh my god... he has to think I'm a loony tunes now. Asking a question like that...out loud!

  "More," he murmured, low and husky. His lips grazed hers once, twice, and then a third time before he stepped back and smiled at her. "Tomorrow."

  Stupidity invaded her brain and she blinked. "What?"

  "Tomorrow," he repeated, an indulgent gleam in his eyes. "The holiday festivities. Fireworks in the park. Booths of all kinds, food, a carnival." He paused, tension crackling between them. "A date."

  The breath caught in her throat. Date? "I...um..." Morgan! Common sense tried to rear its ugly head, but she squashed it. Date! Not sex, just a date! She nodded. "Okay."

  Looking satisfied, he only said, "I'll pick you up around 3:30," and then turned to walk across the parking lot.

  He climbed onto a powerful machine, a gleaming black monster that set her inner girly-girl squealing. The engine roared and then settled in a low powerful hum just before he drove out of the parking lot. Imagine that power under you. The vibrations of high speed spreading through your whole body as you absorb the pure freedom... Images flashed in her mind, the two of them on that very motorcycle, parked beside the waterfall, a soft leather seat under her ass as he... "Stop it," she muttered as she climbed into the truck. "Just stop it. It's only a date for god's sake!"

  As her body calmed down to something resembling normal, she drove through the woods, windows open to the night breeze and nocturnal sounds of wildlife. She sighed, an oddly pleasant exhaustion settling over her. Lush greenery, darkened by nightfall, blocked the full force of the moon, allowing only a glimpse here and there. Through the normal scents of the woods, a whiff of smoke teased her nostrils and she slowed the truck to a crawl. What the...? Not a forest fire!

  "Doesn't seem enough smoke for a fire and I don't see any flames anywhere, but better check in case---don't want to burn the a-frame down by ignoring it." With a put upon sigh, she pulled the truck to the side of the narrow road and shut off the engine.

  Muttering dire imprecations to whoever hid in the woods at this hour of the night, it felt late even though she couldn't see her watch, Morgan tramped through the woods in the general direction of the strongest smell of smoke. As she stepped around a tree, over an exposed root, a small orange and yellow glow drew her eye.

  Campfire? Seems a little dangerous in the middle of the woods like this! A dark shadow of a man squatted in front of the fire, poking it so sparks flew into the night in the tiny clearing. She stepped between two large tree trunks, intending to give the hapless camper a sharp piece of her mind...until he stood with a familiar ease reminiscent of... No! She shook her head. He's not real. That waterfall...him...all not real...

  "Very real," he drawled and turned to face her, molten silver eyes fixed on her. "As real as you are."

  Oh...my...god... Reeling from the shock of him in the flesh, she staggered and before she could blink, he caught her, arms wrapped around her from behind, breath warming the back of her neck. Heat scorched her senses, smothering her so she could barely breathe at his proximity. The pure sexy scent of man teased her nostrils and, as she inhaled deep, settled into her lungs. Oh man! She tried to turn, to face him, but he tightened his embrace, holding her back against his chest as his tongue toyed with her ear. Shudders rippled over her, sharp tingles racing from her ear straight to her pussy.

  She let out a slow breath in a vain attempt to steady clamoring nerves. "Who are you?"

  He shrugged, his shoulders lifting and settling against the back of her head. "Muse."

  Finally, she managed to step out of his embrace, turning to face him though his hands remained at her waist. "Um, you don't look female to me."

  "Nice of you to notice." He grinned, a flash of gleaming white teeth in the moonlight streaming into the clearing.

  Face flushed hot, she stared into his eyes, willing her body to calm down. "Well, the Muses in Greek mythology were all women."

  "My mother had an... interesting... sense of humor."

  "Hmm." The cool night air raised goose bumps on her arms and the back of her neck so she moved closer to the fire. "That can be dangerous here, in the middle of the woods," she stated, determined to ignore the sheer animal sex appeal of the man. Two such men cannot possibly exist in this world, let alone in this tiny spot on the planet!

  "I'd never let you burn." He moved closer, that heat swamping her again. "At least, not that way."

  She shot a sharp glance at him only to find herself caught in molten silver, drowning with no desire for rescue. She swallowed hard, struggling to maintain some sort of control over her raging libido. How does he do that? Make me want... "What are you doing here? What do you want?"

  He shrugged, those massive, strong shoulders lifting and dropping in a lazy movement. That white tank top showed off male physique to perfection and her mouth watered as her pussy wept for just a taste of male flesh, a flavor denied it for months.

  "What do you want, Morgan?" he demanded, low and intense, and right behind her.

  Morgan whirled, stumbled and landed in his arms, plastered against solid muscle. Imprinted against her pliant body, he tightened his hold and lowered his mouth to hers. Somehow magical, fantastical, he swept her into his kiss until she craved more with a soul-deep need that shattered common sense and tossed logic out the window.

  Resistance gone, she kissed him until somehow her clothes vanished and soft grass tickled her back. Beyond caring, she tangled her tongue with his until he pulled out of her embrace and cold air blew across her exposed flesh. Her nipples hardened as her pussy clenched.

  No, she bit back the whimper. Don't stop...

  Warm breath fluttered over her inner thigh, and her belly quivered, anticipation razor sharp in her gut. Oh please, she begged in silence. Please!

  Obliging, he blew across her clit, which immediately stood at attention. Blood rushed to her pussy, the moist folds now throbbing for more. Her stomach tightened and her fingers curled into the dirt and grass at her hips. She lifted her ass off the ground, seeking more of that mouth. She clamped her teeth on her lower lip and watched, eyes glued to his head, a dark shadow between her quivering thighs. Dark hair fluttered in the breeze, stroking her pale skin until shivers rippled through her. Finally, an agonizing eon later, he shifted and stroked that hot, moist tongue up along the swollen folds of her pussy and licked her clit.

  "Yes," she hissed, no air in her lungs to scream the pleasure building inside her as he tongued her pussy, ecstasy rippling through her with the force of a tidal wave. Without conscious thought, she clamped her hands on either side of his head and held him to the feast, fingers tangling in thick black strands, pulling him into her hot flesh. His tongue stabbed deep, again and again. Tension coiled so deep inside her, tight enough to snap like a rubber band, and she squirmed, her legs rubbing against him. Hair tickled her sensitive skin, her thighs quivering harder under that sensual caress.

  His tongue left he
r pussy and she fought back a scream. No! She pulled his hair, urging him back to his task, but he only slid two fingers into her sopping wet hole, nails grazing inner muscles already ultra sensitive. Quivers and shivers rippled through her, nerves screaming for release, for more of him, for his cock driving deep inside her. I can't stand it! Oh Christ!

  He buried his face in her pouting, dripping pussy, tongue gliding over and around her clit until it throbbed, on the edge of release. Oh shit! Her neck arched and her eyes closed, visions racing through her mind: steamy, passionate images that fueled her rampant desires. Craving more, she bucked her hips as his fingers plowed in and out, his tongue torturing her clit until the edge of orgasm shrank her vision to nothing but him.

  Twisting and squirming, she fisted her hands in his hair, panting for breath as her heart raced so hard it might burst out of her chest. His tongue stilled, his lips closed over her flesh, and his teeth nipped her clit before clamping on her. Orgasm blasted so hard everything grayed around her and she stopped breathing. Ecstasy exploded along every nerve until hard, rapid waves pounded her senses and she sagged onto the ground.

  Eyes closed, she lay still until her heart rate slowed and her body returned to normal. Something warm covered her and she turned into it, wrapping herself in heat until drowsiness overtook her.

  * * * *

  Heat baking her face and the sweat dripping off her forehead pulled Morgan out of sleep. A golden hue behind her eyelids indicated blazing sunlight. The soft cushion shifted as she rolled and the breath caught in her lungs. No grass? She opened her eyes and verified a sunny summer afternoon. Speechless, she stared at the A-frame's front deck. What the..?

  "Not again," she muttered, glancing in the direction of the trail she'd taken to the waterfall her first night in the a-frame. "No way did I dream such..." Memories raced into her mind at the speed of light, leaving her gasping for breath as her pussy tingled, eager for another round. My god, he can eat pussy! Arousal tugged at her, but she shook her head, denying the sensations rippling through her body. "No way can a dream, a figment of my imagination, do that to me. He's got to be real, but where is he? Who is he?"