What the hell? I’m actually wishing to miss out on my weekend fucks, so I can spend time working with Morgan.
Can the real Wilder Cross please stand up?
The only thing I can think is that my cock is in definite lust with her. That, or she’s done some kind of voodoo to him.
That’s the only explanation I have right now as to why I’ve turned into a Morgan-obsessed idiot.
We all leave the restaurant together. My parents have a car waiting. I’ll hitch a ride with them. My condo is on Lake Shore, which is on the way to my parents’ house on Gold Coast. They still live in the same house that I grew up in.
“Thanks for dinner,” Morgan says to my mom and dad.
Mom kisses her on the cheek. “See you soon,” Mom says to her, climbing in the car.
“I’m looking forward to seeing that proposal,” my dad says to her. “You want a ride?” Dad asks me, climbing in next to my mom.
“Yeah, I’ll just grab Morgan a cab.”
“Oh, no need. I’m going to walk. I only live on Lincoln.” She thumbs over her shoulder.
“I thought you got a cab here?” I say stupidly.
She smiles. “I came from the office. I was working late.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll walk you home.”
“You don’t need to. It’s not far.”
“I don’t give a shit if it’s five steps away. I’m walking you,” I firmly tell her. “I’m walking Morgan home,” I tell my parents, leaning into the car. “I’ll talk to you later.”
I shut the car door.
I turn to Morgan as my parents’ car pulls away into traffic.
“You really don’t have to walk me home,” she says to me.
“I’m not letting you walk the streets of Chicago alone at night.”
“It’s not that late.”
“Mmhmm. Okay. So, you think murderers don’t start work until it’s super late?”
“I actually didn’t know that murdering was a profession.” She gives me a dry look.
“You’re hilarious. And I’m serious, Morgan. You shouldn’t be walking around the city on your own at night.”
When I look at her, a smile is tugging at her lips, and she’s shaking her head at me.
“What?”
“I just didn’t realize that you had such strong feelings about women walking Chicago’s streets alone.”
“I don’t. I just care about you walking these streets alone.”
Something flashes across her face. It’s not happiness at my words. If anything, she looks annoyed, but it’s gone too quickly for me to know for sure.
She stares ahead, wrapping her arms over her chest.
She isn’t wearing a coat, and a slight chill is in the air.
I don’t ask if she’s cold because something tells me that, right now, she’d reject the offer of my jacket.
So, instead, I slide my jacket off, keeping pace with her, and I step closer and hang it over her shoulders.
She stops abruptly. Her eyes flash to mine.
“You looked cold,” I say gently.
Her lips press together, like she’s about to argue with me, so I’m surprised when she says, “Thank you.” Her words are soft, and they curl in around my chest and settle there.
She slips her arms into my jacket.
It’s huge on her. And the sight of her wearing my jacket sets off something primal inside me.
I want to pick her up, carry her off to my lair, and do dirty, dirty things to her all night long.
Heat flares in my groin, and I have to bite back a moan at the images flashing through my head.
Morgan starts walking again, and I follow, falling in step beside her.
I shove my hands in my pants pockets to stop myself from doing something stupid, like grabbing her and kissing her right here on the street.
We walk in silence for a while. I can’t think of a thing to say that doesn’t consist of the words kiss and fuck, so I keep my mouth shut, as I know I can’t do either of those things with her, no matter how much I want to.
My parents love her, and I know they would kick my ass to hell and back if I screwed things up with her working for the business.
And I know me. I’d screw things up.
Business, I’m great at. Women, not so much. Well, I’m great at fucking them, but anything beyond that? Nope.
“Your mom and dad seemed…happy with my idea,” she says softly.
I slide my eyes to her. “They are happy with your idea. More than happy.”
The smile that appears at my words sparks alive every sexual feeling in my body like nothing ever has before.
If her smile can do that to me, then I can only imagine what it would feel like to be inside her.
Why does the one woman who excites me this much have to be the one woman I can’t touch?
I try to tell myself that that’s the reason. Because I can’t touch her.
But it’s not.
It’s her.
I can feel my cock start to swell in my pants. In an attempt to direct my thoughts elsewhere, I say, “So, I know you lived in Evanston when we were at Northwestern and you live in Chicago now, but where are you from originally?”
“Decatur,” she says.
“Can’t say I’ve ever been.”
“You’re not missing much.” Her lips lift at the corners.
“You didn’t like it?”
“No, I love it. It’s home. But it’s not as”—she wafts her hands around, as though trying to find the words—“exciting as Chicago, if that’s the right word to use.”
“Exciting is as good as any word.” You’re exciting. You excite the hell out of me.
“You’re from Chicago, right?” she says. It doesn’t sound so much like a question but more like a statement.
“Yep. Born and bred.”
We continue walking on in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s actually nice.
I can’t remember the last time I walked a woman home like this—without the promise of anything at the end of it.
There probably hasn’t ever been a time. Because, when there’s me and a woman in the mix, there’s always sex at the end of it.
Except with her.
It’s different. And I like it.
I like her.
“So…this is me.” She comes to a stop outside a three-story brownstone on Lincoln.
Looking up at the building, I ask, “Which apartment is yours?”
“Top floor.”
“I’ll see you upstairs.”
“I’ll be fine.” She laughs softly. “My downstairs neighbor, Mrs. Bigly, is like a rottweiler. No one gets in this building if they don’t live here.”
“So, she wouldn’t let me in?”
“Definitely not.” She grins up at me.
“I’m sure I could charm my way in.”
I wink at her, and she laughs.
“I’d like to see you try. Mrs. Bigly’s immune to bullshit.”
That makes me laugh. Her eyes are sparkling with amusement. Warmth spreads across my chest.
Fuck, I want her.
“Oh, your jacket.” She slips it off and hands it to me.
I want to tell her to keep it, but there’s no reason for me to say that without it seeming odd, so I take it from her.
“So…” She takes a step back, and I want to follow her. “Thanks for walking me home.”
“Anytime.”
She seems to hesitate. Then, she turns and walks up the steps. I watch her go. When she reaches the top, she gets her key from her clutch and unlocks the door. She opens it and then pauses before turning back to me.
“I had a good time tonight.”
I smile at her. “Me, too.”
“Good night, Wilder.”
“Night, Morgan.”
I watch her go inside, and the door shuts safely behind her before I leave.
I see a taxi light heading my way, so I step out and flag it down.
The taxi stops, and I get in.
“Lake Shore,” I tell the driver.
The driver has the air conditioner on full blast, so I pull my jacket on. It smells of her, and my dick is instantly flying at full mast.