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What the hell is wrong with me? I seriously need to get laid. Morgan Powell is so far from my type of woman, but I can’t shake her from my thoughts.

When Screech had given me the strange location her phone was tracked to, my heart stopped beating for a moment. My first reaction was to wonder whether she had been taken. Finding her here, seeking out her sister, pulls at something inside me.

I promise you, Madyson will come home. I won’t fail. I won’t let Morgan down. Somehow, I will find a way to give her everything she wants.

Pausing and taking in my own thoughts, it hits me. There is definitely more to what I feel for Morgan. I don’t know how it happened or when, but she is drawing something out of me that I thought died the day Erin did.

As hard as this has been, she keeps pulling herself back together. She refuses to give up on her sister. Too bad the same can’t be said for her parents.

The courage she possesses to face down some of the worst parts of town shows the depth of her character. She touched a damn dead body. I am sure it hasn’t fully hit her yet, but it will. When it does, I have no doubt it will hurt, just as I know she will find a way to push it down and work through it.

I climb on my bike without giving another moment to my thoughts on Morgan. Kicking up the kickstand, I rock the bike up, popping the clutch with my foot and cranking the beast under me. When I turn my gaze to her, I see something longing in the depths of her beautiful green eyes.

“What?” I shout over the engine.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she shouts back uncertainly.

“What you’re doing is getting on the bike.” I extend my hand to her. Taking her shaking hand in mine, I tug her over to me and place her hand on my shoulder then nod my head down to the foot peg. She follows my thoughts and climbs on. Reaching behind me, I take both of her hands and wrap them firmly around my waist, pulling her against me. She is tense against me while her thighs squeeze mine, her head comes to rest on my shoulder, and her breath puffs on my neck in an erotic way that brings my cock to life.

“Do you trust me?” I ask, causing her to lift her head, bringing her lips against my ear.

“No,” she firmly replies.

“Morgan, let it all go. I promise you, I’m doing everything I can for your sister. For the next half hour, be in this moment with me. Feel the wind around you, feel the power of the bike under you, and just live free with me.”

She nods against me, her cheek brushing against my ear, causing my cock to press harder against my unforgiving zipper. As we pull off, the first jerk of the bike beneath her has her hands gripping my stomach tightly.

We travel down the road, and the scene to our right becomes the open beach filled with people who have not a care in the world. They lie out on their towels, not giving a second thought to the missing women. They aren’t facing the challenge of keeping hope inside that their sister is still alive. No, they lie on the soft sand, letting their minds drift freely into whatever fantasy should decide to take root and grow there.

To our left is the hustle and bustle of the city businesses. People are shuffling around to get their souvenirs, their Cuban espressos, or get to their jobs. Whatever their purpose is today, they don’t feel the pain and helplessness Morgan does right now.

I want some of this tranquility to seep into her. I know she is literally in knots, making herself sick over her sister, but she can’t do this to herself. She has to keep from going insane while I look for Madyson. I know it seems hypocritical of me because, if anything like this ever happened to Brooke, I would tear the entire world down in a rage looking for her. I can’t be worried about Morgan slipping further away in despair while I am trying to find Madyson, though. I also can’t afford to come save her from dangerous situations she unknowingly puts herself in.

Morgan may not trust me, but I am going to prove to her, one way or another, that she can. I am going to find Madyson if it is the last thing I do.

It takes her a bit before she finally relaxes behind me. Her hair whips around us both. Usually, this would bother me. I don’t let many women ride bitch, and even less get to ride with their hair down, but with Morgan, all that matters to me is giving her this moment to have a release. I want nothing more than to liberate her from all her problems, if only for a little while. I can give her that.

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