Damned If You Don't (2 page)

If he did, she’d let him.

Mortified by her own willingness to throw away her pride, her principles,
and
her fear, Morgan stared up at him. She came as close to begging as she could. “Jack. Not like this.”

He stilled, sanity returning to his eyes. He swallowed before he whispered, “I guess now you understand.”

She did. She had the ability to make him forget everything, because he was doing the same thing to her.

“I could take you right here, right now,” he told her, his gaze sobering. “And you’d let me.”

“God help me—I think I would.”

She dropped her gaze, for to look him in the eyes was like looking in a mirror, something she wasn’t too sure she wanted to see.

Oh no you don’t. Morgan Mackenzie is not a coward.

She forced her head upward. The breeze ruffled a few strands of his hair. His face grew taut with desire, telling her exactly what his intentions were. But his eyes. Oh heaven, his eyes. Those killer blues had softened. They’d gone from sapphire chips to the color of swirled marble, filled with confusion and heat. Funny, he didn’t seem to be able to understand this—thing—growing between them. Theirs was an insane passion, a fool’s passion, one she couldn’t begin to understand either.

Letting her see inside, though, made up her mind. There was no way to stop what was about to explode between them. He bent his head closer and closer to hers. Her chin tilted upward to meet his. One touch would reignite the fire that would probably get them both locked up for certain.

His lips closed over hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth before he let go, his breath going staccato as he leaned his forehead against hers.

“Jack,” she whispered, panting, her heart thundering, “all right.”

He grabbed her arm, pulling to where a steel beam met the sidewall of the ferry and created a tiny private corner.

Trembling fingers cupped her cheeks. Molten fire scorched her skin as his gaze roamed over her face. One enchanted evening had morphed into pure need. And that frightened her more than anything else. His head drew closer, and Morgan fell back into the wall, finding the cold metal strangely comforting, solid in a sea of emotions she could neither accept nor deny.

He dragged his lips across her forehead, her skin burning under their trace, and then tasted her brows and cheeks as if touch could imprint her features. He drew in short, helpless breaths. His hard length pressed against her belly. How had everything gotten so out of control?

“Jack,” she choked out once more, trying desperately for one last bid at sanity. He stilled. His arms tightened around her back. His head dipped, and his lips devoured hers.

So much for the word
no.

Perhaps he tasted her inner struggle. Perhaps he tasted her fear, and not just the fear about getting caught making love on a ferry. Whatever the cause, his kiss gentled, coaxed. Their tongues tasted and mated, giving and taking. And that frightened her most of all. It wasn’t just about sex anymore. It was about sharing.

Jack tore his mouth away and leaned his forehead on top of hers. Neither of them could breathe. Two hearts beating out of control. They were both a hairbreadth from exploding.

It was all so wrong. And so right.

He opened her jacket and pulled her blouse out, his hand sliding up her belly as she sucked in a breath. His fingers captured her breast, tweaking her nipple until her knees buckled against him. He caught her, pressing her into the wall of the ferry.

“I need to be inside you,” he choked. “
Now
.”

“Jack…” she mewled, making one last feeble protest.

A slow, sly grin grew on his face. His hand slipped from her breast to reach into his back pocket. He pulled out a pocketknife.

A knife! “What are you—”

His grin went beyond wicked. He simply nodded.

“No,” she whispered, a most delicious tingle rising up from her toes. “You can’t be thinking—”

“The same thing as you?” he answered.

“Oh no, you’re not,” she cried, trying to deny what she wanted more than anything else.

“Watch me.” He yanked her to him, spread her legs, and sliced open the seam at the crotch of her pants, letting the cold metal graze the skin of her inner thigh.

Her heart thumped wildly. “You’re crazy!”

“Yes,” he said, his tone devilishly wild. “Now open your legs. All the way.”

He shoved her panties to one side with the knife handle as the metal brushed her nether lips. Morgan shivered, gasping.

His gaze burned right through to her soul, sinfully delicious. “You like that, don’t you?”

Her answer was to pull his head down and grind her mouth against his. The knife clattered to the deck as his hands spread her wider. One finger. Two. His mouth covered hers just in time, her scream reverberating down his throat.

He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, took out a condom, and let the wallet fall to the floor. Once he sheathed himself, he gripped her legs and lifted her up, shoving deep inside her. He tore his mouth away, waves of heat pouring from her, and forced her up against the wall as he thrust in and out, little moans escaping his lips.

Maybe it was the realization of
getting caught
, that they could get caught. Maybe it was the realization that she really didn’t know anything about him. Maybe it was the knowledge that she knew more about him in that moment than some people know in a lifetime. Whatever it was, once Jack’s lips touched hers, once his tongue entwined with hers, Morgan lost it. Totally. She reached around his shoulders, her hands clawing at his back. Her legs tightened around his waist. She growled, biting and sucking, finally begging for more. “Jack—oh, Jack! Please don’t stop—oh
Jack
…”

She could feel his arms and legs trembling. His hard length filled her to overflowing. Each time he pulled out, he took a piece of her with him. Each time he thrust deeper, he gave a piece of himself in return.

Then suddenly he stopped.

As his breath caught all at once, hers let go, and with one more thrust, Jack cried out in release. She covered his mouth with hers and swallowed his cries, her insides imploding, exploding.

Reality returned in pieces. The metal wall digging into her back, the difficulty breathing, his hard length still deep inside her.

“Jack,” she barely whispered.

He didn’t answer.

“
Jack
.”

His head lifted from her neck. “That—that was amazing.”

She kissed him, wanting to linger, knowing they couldn’t. “I know.”

She waited for him to withdraw. When he didn’t she said, “Please. Someone might come.”

He grinned. “Obviously, someone just did.”

She knew.

He lifted her legs and pulled out, yet still, he held on. Which was a good thing, Morgan figured, for even with the wall behind her, she wasn’t sure she could stand. He nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck, his soft sighs reminding her of what could never be.

“I think you got the better part of the deal,” she whispered.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

She kissed him, unable to keep from grinning against his mouth. “You owe me a suit.”

“I’ll buy you one when we dock.”

“Not really fair when I asked for this, but it’s a deal.”

She shivered as gust of wind whipped around them and glanced down, realizing why he’d been waiting. He was still half-erect.

Jack gave her a slightly bewildered, slightly naughty, definitely a tad embarrassed grin. Morgan started laughing, but when he joined in, she was certain she was going to cry. She swallowed hard, bending to pick up the knife.

“I like the way you use your tools,” she said, closing and handing it back to him.

He threw back his head and roared, before he lifted her chin, his face sobering. “Yours, too.”

Morgan desperately needed some space between them. She pulled away. “I have to change.”

There was that grin again. “I guess you do.”

Banked embers in his gaze flared hot before he shrugged. He fixed his clothes, and she fixed hers. He leaned down, his palms cupping the sides of her cheek to bring her lips to his. A kiss for them both to savor.

When Morgan finally tore her mouth away, she saw they were approaching land. The fairy tale had to be over once they docked. She had to get away from him. Gentleman that he was, though, Jack escorted her to her car. Morgan shuffled through her luggage until she found the clothes she wanted. They went up to the main cabin of the ferry, stopping at a hallway ladies’ room.

He kissed her once. Hard. “Go ahead. I’ll be out here when you’re done.”

Jack would never know how innocently he was wounding her. “Will you?”

He kissed her again, deeper this time. “Absolutely,” he reiterated, letting go.

Morgan went into the ladies’ room, changed in a stall, then went to the sink, catching her reflection in the mirror. She remembered crashing the wedding at the hotel, eating appetizers and drinking wine on the patio, shivering not from the chill ocean breeze but from the heat exuding from his gaze.

“Friend of the bride or friend of the groom?” he’d asked her.

All at once she crumbled. For that moment, she let the pain consume her.

Walking into his hotel room, Morgan convinced herself she could have one enchanted evening. How ironic was it to meet someone so right at the absolute worst time of her life?

She clenched the edge of the sink.

God help her, she was
so
in trouble.

Chapter Two

Jack be nimble, Jack be quick. Hey, Jack, don’t get caught by that candlestick. Because you really ought to burn for this one.

Jack followed Morgan to her car. They were about to dock, and he knew this was going to be the diciest part of all.

Right and wrong. That’s the way it has to be.

He just wished it didn’t have to be so hard.

Every time he touched her. Even now. Just following her. Watching her light brown hair brush shoulders he’d caressed with his lips not long ago. He had no control. Over his feelings or where they were going. He couldn’t understand the insane power she had over him. Because it was wrong. It meant he cared. And he couldn’t. She was just another name on a list.

And he had to turn her in.

Jack reached out and caught her by the shoulder, swinging her around to face him just as they reached her car. His was a couple of cars behind hers. He advanced like the predator he was. She retreated until she couldn’t back up any more. He gazed down at her, noting the vulnerability in her fawn-colored eyes, wishing circumstances could have been different. But that didn’t stop him from wanting her. So he turned off his feelings and turned on the charm.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he whispered in her ear.

She shivered against him. “You just won’t give up, will you?”

He shook his head and nipped at her earlobe. “Never.”

Moving back, he watched her smile up at him, wounded by her trust. Jack banished his conscience. The searing guilt in his guts had no place in this play.

He had to stop.

He couldn’t.

Knowing the fires of the underworld were licking at his skin in anticipation, Jack lifted her face to his. Her eyes closed. He leaned down and tried very hard not to ravage her mouth. Instead, he gave her the lightest of kisses while his whole being centered on that kiss. They both came down to earth slowly.

“You’ll wait for me to park my car in the lot?” he asked.

Her eyelids shuttered. The moment died a slow death, and a shot of pain accompanied the anger that scorched through his belly. So she
had
been thinking about ditching him. “Yes.”

“You promise?”

“Yes.” Her slight hesitation made him certain she was lying, and the pain only got worse. Jack knew he had to take control of the situation, and he knew exactly how. He rubbed against her, letting her feel her full effect on him.

“Mmmm.”

He covered her lips with his, kissing her until she sagged against him. “Besides, I owe you a suit,” he added, tearing himself away.

Her head tilted upward, and her mouth reached for his, answering with a kiss. It seemed as though she was fighting the same losing battle, disobeying what he figured had to be a direct order from her brain. He didn’t care. He wanted her, disobeying his own direct orders. The world stopped turning every time their lips met, making him realize that the thought of control was merely a facade.

You’ve really blown it this time.

Yeah, well, the one thing he wasn’t going to blow was his assignment. No matter how right she felt in his arms, no matter how good she was with her hands, he was going to give her to the authorities and let the law decide.

Because right’s right, and wrong’s wrong. And he’d made a promise that couldn’t be broken.

Jack tore his mouth away, breathing hard, wondering how his lower extremities could be so disloyal. “If we could,” he growled softly in her ear. “I’d show you a few more tricks.”

Her body began to shake with laughter. “I’m certain you could.”

He smiled. “Lunch, then. And a suit.”

He rimmed the shell of her ear as a reminder, and she shivered. “I already said yes.”

“I know. But now I’m going for gold. How about a Holiday Inn?”

She leaned back to stare at him, her smile fading. Caution warred with a hint of despair in her gaze. “I thought we agreed—”

He put a finger to her lips and gave her a sheepish grin. “Can’t blame a guy for trying, can you?”

Her face fell. “Just don’t blame me because I can’t.”

He nodded and sighed, not having to make his disappointment real. Mentally, he slapped himself. She was going to bolt the minute she got off the ferry, and he had to be ready for that. He leaned in once and kissed her forehead, then opened her car door for her. She sat down in the driver’s seat.

“I’ll follow you and park my car. We’ll take yours and go have lunch. I’m starving.”

They both knew why.

She smiled and nodded, but Jack could tell she’d already retreated to a place where he wouldn’t be able to touch her. He smiled back anyway.

One enchanted evening he thought, closing the door. And he knew he’d never be the same again.