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Stripped off again, she walked into the shower and stayed there for what felt like an eternity as the heat seeped into her muscles, breathing deeply, inhaling the steam, and exhaling her tension. Her mind flashed back to when she was naked and cavorting, yes, actually cavorting in Alex’s bed. Her clit ached to be touched, but she wouldn’t. Not while Alex and Francine were both in the other room. It didn’t sit right.
Finally done, she wrapped her hair in a towel and sauntered back to her bedroom, intent on drying her mane of curls and tying them up before climbing into that comfortable-looking bed to read for a while, and then she’d finally check on Alex, make sure she was comfortable for the night and hit the sack herself.
It was a plan.
What could possibly go wrong?
At chapter seventeen, she closed the Kindle down and set it on the nightstand. Voices had quieted a while ago and she wondered if Alex had actually fallen asleep on the sofa.
She got up and crept to the door, opening it slowly to peek out. She found Alex alone.
Waiting for her?
She wasn’t sure, but it felt that way when her every move was watched as she stepped further into the room.
Drink in hand, swirling the ice slowly as though contemplating something still, Alex continued to stare at her.One leg was raised onto a stool, her body twisted towards Morgan. She looked in control, and Morgan felt herself weaken at the sight. God, was she that needy for this woman’s attention?
“Come here,” Alex demanded confidently, moving her leg down to place her foot back on the floor, leaning forward on her elbows.
Morgan found herself moving.
Just two words, and she was pulled towards her like a magnet that couldn’t push away.
When she was standing in front of her, Alex placed the glass down on the table beside where she was sitting. Her hands raised to rest against Morgan’s hips, her forehead falling against Morgan’s midriff.
“I made a mistake,” Alex said firmly.
“Go on.” Morgan waited for more.
Alex sat back, stared up at her and admitted, “I fucked up.”
“Okay.”
“I want more.” Without breaking eye contact, her fingertips pinched the material to Morgan’s pyjama bottoms, and they slid down Morgan’s thighs until they dropped by their own volition, exposing Morgan once more. “I want more with you.”
Innately, Morgan knew not to move. To stand very still and wait, allow Alex to explore these feelings, to explore her too.
“I don’t know how we do this, and I don’t know if it will even work, but I can’t keep looking at you and not be allowed to touch,” Alex continued. “It’s more than that.”
“I’m listening.”
“It’s more than the euphoric feeling I get. I don’t want you to feel like that’s all it is… I want more, but I don’t know how to navigate that and focus on what I need to do at the same time.”
“What is it that requires so much of your focus?” Morgan asked.
Alex stared up at her, her head tilting to one side. “I can’t say right now, I don’t want to jinx it, but there’s a plan in place that Francine and I are working on. It’s important, and I can’t fail, not now.”
Morgan thought for a moment before she asked, “Have you been focused these past two days?”
Alex glanced at her injured foot, remembered the mistakes on stage where her mind was elsewhere, seeking out Morgan and becoming distracted when she couldn’t find her. “No.”
“So, your focus isn’t lost because you want me. It’s lost because you won’t allow yourself to be with me.”
“I guess that’s an accurate description, yes.”
“So, is this your apology?” Morgan asked, bringing her finger under Alex’s chin and lifting just enough that they were looking at one another again. “Because I think I deserve one, don’t you?”
Smiling, Alex said, “See, this is what scares me. I’ve never been with anyone who can do that.”
