STORY EXCERPT

“Mr. Mitchell.” Her voice is low enough to avoid spectacle and sharp enough to make distance clear.

“Declan,” I say.

“I did not ask for familiarity.”

“I didn’t ask for this assignment.” That earns the smallest pause from her. 

Morgan slides her phone into her bag with a neat, irritated motion. “Then we are in agreement. Neither one of us wants to be here.”

“Want is not part of the equation.” I watch my response hit.

She does not like it, and she clearly does not like me. She doesn't like the fact that I am already beside her car and standing in the middle of her day like I belong here. None of that matters.

“I am going home,” she says.

“Yes.”

“I’m not canceling the rest of my day.”

“You are.”

Her posture tightens so slightly that someone else would miss it, but I do not. “You seem confused about how this works.”

I open the driver’s side door and look back at her. “No. You are.”

Her gaze drops to the open door, then lifts to mine again. “And you think you are driving my car.” It is not phrased like a question.

“Yes.” The word lands between us and stays there.

Her jaw sets. “No.”

“Yes.”

“It’s my car.”

“And it is now part of your security.”

Her eyes sharpen. “I am perfectly capable of driving myself.”

“I’m sure you are.”

The wind shifts again and carries the scent of exhaust and the faint metallic tang of the city after rain. A bus exhales at the corner and somewhere behind us, someone laughs too loudly. None of it pulls my attention for more than a second as I keep my focus on her and the street at the same time.

“What exactly do you think this is?” she asks.

“A threat response.”

“It feels more like a hostile takeover.” 

“It can feel however you want.”

Her control holds, but I can see the effort behind it now. “My father may have hired you,” she says coolly, “but he does not decide how I conduct my life.

“Today he’s decided how you stay alive.”

She takes one step closer. “You don’t get to take control of my life.”

“No, but I will take control of the parts that can get you killed.” That lands the way it should, and she looks at me more carefully now.

Most people look at size first and whether I’m armed but Morgan is more disciplined than that. Her gaze does a fast assessment as she measures control, not aggression. Smart, but it will still get her in trouble if she thinks intelligence changes the risk. Her eyes hold mine another second. 

Morgan looks at the car again, then back at me. “This is temporary.”

“To be determined.”

Her expression cools further. “You seem very comfortable making decisions for me.”

“I am comfortable making the ones that matter right now.”

“And you decide what matters.”

“Yes.”

She keeps the reaction contained and that tells me something useful. She is angry by instinct and disciplined by practice. The discipline matters more.

“Fine,” she says at last.

Morgan moves past me and opens the passenger door herself. I let her. She gets in the car without saying another word, setting her bag in her lap with the same precision she seems to apply to everything else. I close the door after her and take one last look down the block.

A man in a charcoal suit steps out of a coffee shop across the street and glances in our direction for less than a second before moving on. A woman with a stroller pauses near the corner, checks traffic, and then continues on her way. The black SUV I noticed earlier is gone. I file all of it away and get behind the wheel.

The car starts clean. I adjust the mirrors and take the first right instead of the most direct route.

Beside me, she notices immediately. “That is not the way to my house.”

“No.”

Morgan’s voice sharpens. “Then where are we going?”

“An unexpected route.”

ADULT EXCERPT

Whatever tiny ounce of control I had left breaks. I need to be inside her like I need air. I stand, bringing her with me and walk us to the room I’ve been living out of for months now. I lay her on the bed, kissing her through it all as I follow her down. 

“I want you, Morgan…so fucking bad. I need to be inside you.” I don’t even recognize the sound of my own voice.

Morgan responds by pushing her shorts and panties down and I growl at the sight of her glistening pussy. “Please, Declan...”

I shove my pants down just enough to free my dick, my breath rough as I look back at her and she goes completely still. Her gaze drops, and then her eyes widen and a quiet inhale catches in her throat. Her reaction hits me like a punch. My hand wraps around my thick cock and gives it one long stroke as it leaks.

“You sure about this?” My voice is low and rough as I watch her carefully. 

Her eyes flick back up to mine as something shifts behind them. The surprise is still there, but it’s melting and turning into something hotter. Something reckless.

“Yes,” she says, breathless.

“All of it?” I tighten my grip slightly.

Her chest rises again, faster now as her thighs shift against the bed like she can’t stay still.

“Yes,” she whispers.

I move close enough now that she has to feel me between her thighs, has to understand exactly what she’s choosing.

“Say it,” I command.

Her hands grip the sheets as her body reacts, arching toward me without thinking.

“I want you.” Her voice is shaking but sure. “I want all of you.”

My hand releases, sliding up her leg instead, dragging her closer and pushing her thigh higher around me as I lean over her, caging her in. My mouth brushes her jaw, her neck, feeling the way her breath stutters under me.

“Look at me.” I slide my finger through her wet folds and she moans. “I want to see exactly what I’m doing to you.” Her eyes find mine again, dark and completely pulled under.

Her mouth parts and a raw sound escapes her as her hips lift toward me, chasing the contact without thought. That hits me low and hard in a way and makes my breath catch.

My throbbing cock rests against her leg as my hand moves lower and my finger finds her entrance. I slide one long finger inside her and gasp when her pussy squeezes it tight. Two things hit me at once. First, the burning need to drive my cock deep inside her pussy. Second, reality and it hits like a bucket of ice water. 

“Morgan…are you…have you ever…” I can’t seem to find the right words. 

She goes still beneath me, not pulling away, not hiding, just suspended in a moment that feels heavier than anything that came before it. Her eyes stay locked on mine as she shakes her head. It’s small, almost hesitant, but it lands with a force that cuts straight through everything that had me seconds away from losing control.

“No…” she says softly. “I haven’t.” 

“Fuck…” The word leaves me under my breath, strained, no trace of the hunger that was there before.

I pull my hand back, breaking the contact abruptly, like I’ve just realized how far I let this go without stopping to consider what it actually meant for her. The loss of it draws a soft, confused reaction from her in a slight shift of her body toward mine that makes something in my chest tighten even further.

That’s what does it. The trust and lack of hesitation. 

“Jesus…” The word drags out of me as I come apart in a completely different way than I almost just did.