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I move back to the table. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not stupid, Noah. You have a personal interest in Scarlett. When you’re hot you’re hot, right?”
Our eyes battle as if we’re playing some sick twisted game, neither one of us backing down. Scarlett walks back in, apologizing for her absence. With lunch being served, our conversation is forced to the backburner. Yet, the whole time Scarlett speaks, my head is elsewhere. Trying to make sense of the argument that just occurred. Morgan seems unaffected, quietly listening to Scarlett speak. But maybe she isn’t, the food on her plate is barely touched, yet the glass of champagne completely empty.
Throwing myself into work, I discuss with Scarlett how we expect to roll out the book launch, a little bit about the party, and a few in-store signings which have been scheduled to precede the launch. She appears to be keen on what’s presented, throwing in a few of her own ideas.
“What do you think?” she asks Morgan. “Will my schedule allow for it?”
“We can rearrange a few things,” she says simply.
Esmerelda, the housekeeper, cleans up the table which prompts Morgan to finish the meeting, citing she needs to be elsewhere. Scarlett stands up. Giving her a quick hug and avoiding my eyes, Morgan says goodbye to me then leaves the area in a rush.
“I probably should be going, too,” I suggest with the hope of catching Morgan outside. “I’ve got a ton of work to do back at the office.”
“Here’s my direct number.” Scarlett hands me a piece of paper, placing it in my hand longingly. “Don’t be afraid to call. I may be busy, but I’ve always got time for a handsome man like yourself.”
I smile politely, shocked that I don’t stick around to see how much time she really has. With my goodbyes said, I bolt outside to where Morgan’s parked toward the side of the property. With the sun hiding behind the clouds, the side entrance is dark, covered in massive bushes that protect the property from the paparazzi.
I’ve learned my lesson, and this time, I don’t call her name. Instead, I reach for her arm, willing her to stop so we can talk.
“Noah, don’t,” she begs, trying to wriggle her arm away from my grip
I turn her around to face me, both hands latching onto her arms. Refusing to make eye contact, her gaze is fixated on the ground.
“What is this, Morgan? All this lying. All these games,” I demand answers, furious and momentarily I’m beyond words. “I don’t do well with women treating me this way.”
“What way, Noah? Should I just take my clothes off and beg for you to fuck me? Is that what you’re used to?” She forces a laugh and waits for my reaction by tightening her lips.
I didn’t expect that. She makes me sound like some goddamn pimp.
I let go of her arms angrily. “You don’t know me. And you’re awfully quick to judge me based on what? Huh?”
“Based on many things,” she blurts out. “Noah, I don’t know what it is about you. But I know your type. You like women. Many women. Not one woman. Or perhaps, my sister could sway you.”
“I don’t care about your sister,” I half lie.
“C’mon, Noah. I wasn’t born yesterday. You’ve met her. You have her personal number, right? I need to leave.” She presses the remote, unlocking the car.
“Morgan, stop.” I slam the door shut, resting my hand on the glass to block her from entering. My body is almost touching the back of hers, so close I can inhale her sweet scent. I close my eyes for only a moment, trying to get a grip on my body’s reaction to hers, and just when I think I can control my desire to touch her, I lean in and whisper in her ear, “I think you want me. In fact, I can bet my life on it.”
“Noah, you don’t know what you’re talking about…” she trails off.
“When you’re hot, you’re hot.” And with the words escaping my mouth, I turn her around until our faces are an inch apart, and slam my lips onto hers kissing her deeply, pressing her body against the car. She tastes beautiful, and when my tongue finds hers and glides with ease, I hear her moan into my mouth, arousing my cock as I press hard against her.
She struggles out of my grip, pulling her head away as she takes a breath. “I can’t do this. I want to... but I can’t,” she begs through a moan.
“You have no choice,” I whisper back to her. “I want you. And when I want something, I’ll do everything in my power till it’s mine.”
“Noah…”
“Don’t fight me. No more games. Tomorrow, I get to meet the real Morgan Bentley,” I demand, my hands still clutching her arms.
“Okay,” she murmurs, her posture rising slightly as if the weight of the world has lifted off her shoulders.
I release my grip and run my finger along her bottom lip. Her innocent stare into my eyes does something unimaginable. Something I can’t quite figure out. Something that makes my heart thump really loud, almost beating out of my chest.
I know this isn’t a good sign.
