Page 42 of No Strings Attached

“Really?” As Sam stroked his fingers through Morgan’s damp hair, tenderness spread through his mate’s espresso-colored eyes.

“Yes.”

“I like the way you smell, too.” Sam leaned in close to Morgan’s neck and inhaled deeply. A soft smile played on his lips as his mate’s facial hair tickled Sam’s nose and lips, adding to the intimacy of the moment.

“That’s not the same thing, Sam,” Morgan replied, his voice full of affection. “To me, you smell like a warm ocean breeze.”

Sam’s heart clenched. “I used to stay with my grandparents every summer when I was little. They lived just off the ocean. Those times are my most cherished memories. Whenever life got too hard, I would close my eyes and pretend I was back on the beach, watching the waves roll in and letting the sun warm my face while I played in the sand.”

Morgan rubbed his cheek over Sam’s. “When you’re better, I want to take you to the ocean and create our own cherished memories.”

Aw fuck. Morgan really was going to make him cry. Not since becoming a preteen had anyone cared for Sam this much. Hell, he would even go so far as to say Morgan was even better at making Sam feel safe and treasured than his parents had been.

“I love you.” Sam's eyes widened in horror. What had possessed him to say that? It was way too soon, and Morgan was going to think he was insane and emotionally needy.

Morgan’s expression shifted from tenderness to confusion to something unreadable. His hand slid from Sam’s neck to caress his cheek, and for a moment, they were both still.

“I’m sorry,” Sam quickly stammered, feeling foolish and exposed as he tried to backtrack. “I don’t know what came over me. I blame it on the mind-blowing sex we just had.”

He fell silent, realizing how lame and desperate he sounded.

To his surprise, a slow smile spread across Morgan’s lips, causing his deep brown eyes to shimmer. “You’ve just made me the happiest man alive, Sam,” Morgan’s voice filled with wonder. “Say that to me again.”

“You actually want me to repeat myself? Why? It’s way too soon for love.”

Morgan eased out of Sam, but remained hovering over him. “Say it again, please.”

His heart thumping wildly, Sam repeated those three little words that held so much weight. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Morgan captured Sam’s lips, making him feel completely and utterly cherished.

Chapter Fourteen

Morgan wasn’t pleased that his truck was just towed from his garage, on its way to the repair shop. He scowled as he used the broom to sweep the shattered glass from the access door and fragments of his truck into a neat pile.

He wasn’t the type to worship a vehicle like some guys, but his pickup was only two months old, and he’d spared no expense in customizing it. That fucking hyena had invaded his home, completely disregarding the damage he’d caused to Morgan’s property.

After disposing of the pile in a nearby trash can, Morgan grabbed a sheet of plywood and nailed it over the broken access door window.

It would suffice as a temporary fix. He’d already made some calls, and a new door was on its way.

Placing the hammer on his workbench, Morgan went outside and pulled the police cruiser into the garage. Until he got his truck back, it was his only transportation.

He closed the garage door and went inside, washing his hands in the kitchen sink. What he wouldn’t give to wrap his hands around Daryl’s neck and squeeze the life out of him. He dried his hands and was walking toward the stairs when he heard Sam coming down them.

“Don’t say a word about my toes not touching the floor.” Sam stopped on the steps, holding the railing with one hand. “I’m steady on my feet, and there’s only a slight twitch in my back. I don’t want to sit upstairs all day.”

It wasn’t fair that Sam couldn’t get out and have some fun. Morgan hated keeping the guy trapped inside the house. “I tell you what. We can go to the ice cream hut, but only if I can recruit some help to keep an eye on you and our surroundings.”

Sam’s dark blue eyes lit up. “Seriously?”

Common sense told Morgan that they should stay inside, but Daryl could just as easily attack them at home as he could out in public.

And Morgan was damn tired of letting the son of a bitch call the shots. “If you can, go upstairs and get dressed. I left your shorts and shirt neatly folded on top of the dresser. While we’re in town, I want to get you some more clothes, too.”

“You don’t have to do that, Morgan. You’ve gone out of your way to help me already,” Sam said. “I don’t want you to spend your hard-earned money on me.”

“One, it’s my job to take care of my mate, so don’t think for a second I’m stopping anytime soon.”

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