Page 124 of Spindrift

Theskin around her nipples screamed as Morgan stroked it, and she writhed withunaccustomed sensitivity as her mind went white. Morgan bent her head andclosed her lips over her right nipple. The hand not still pinning Emiliakneaded the other, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger, and lightningtraveled through Emilia. Morgan’s tongue lashed her with fire as her climax tookher by surprise. Up and up she sailed, Morgan’s teeth raking over her betweenexquisitely, almost painfully tender kisses, and she screamed into her father’shouse as every filament of her being aligned.

“Didyou . . .?” Morgan asked her when she regained consciousness.

“Holy.Fuck.” Each word was a struggle. Language was a struggle. Why were there somany words? Her body was a mess of nerve endings, each alive and desperate, andshe shivered as Morgan’s breath passed over her skin.

“Holyfuck,” Morgan agreed, and another shudder passed through Emilia at the look of reverenceon Morgan’s face. She let her head fall back as it claimed her.

Morgan’shands tugged at her shorts, and she raised her hips to let her remove them. Sheseemed to know Emilia was in no condition to return the favor, because shekicked off the rest of her clothes before settling against Emilia again. Thecontact of skin on skin, softness and curves and muscles and bone and Morgan,Morgan—Emilia slid her hand between them.

“Emilia,”Morgan said as she parted her. “Oh god, Emilia.”

“Lookat me.”

Morgan’seyes flew open. Emilia entered her, and the full strength of Morgan’s bodyclosed around her hand as Morgan propped herself on one elbow to hold her gaze.Emilia moved her hips in time with her hand, and Morgan’s body answered. Thetight line of her stomach was just visible, but she forced herself not to lookaway from those slate blue eyes as she gathered Morgan to her, bringing herslowly and inexorably to the brink. She watched Morgan’s pupils expand as shecame, but Morgan did not break their eye contact even as her body trembled andshe breathed out Emilia’s name.

“You,”Emilia said in wonder as Morgan fought to hold herself upright.

“No.You,” said Morgan, and though she should not, in Emilia’s opinion, have beencapable of such immediate reaction, she slipped three fingers inside Emilia,then four, rocking with her while her thumb teased her clit and the room spunagain.

Herbody no longer belonged to her. It belonged to Morgan, and Morgan eased moredeeply into her with sure, strong, inexorable strokes. She opened. The completeand total surrender as Morgan filled her unlocked something. She arched againsther, wanting her deeper, more totally, more completely than she’d ever wanted anything.

Thisorgasm did not take her by surprise. It built from the tips of her fingers andtoes and erased every other touch her skin had ever felt. Her throat was raw,though she was unaware of making a sound, and the blue of Morgan’s eyeseclipsed everything. She fell through that blue, weightless, and Morgan caughther as the last of the evening light bled out of the sky and painted the room agold that lit her face and framed it forever, eyes sea-gray and sea-blue, blacklashes and warm lips, and love, so much love, pouring out of her and intoEmilia as her soul splintered and re-formed around the waves of ecstasy thatdrowned her. She came, sobbing, as the pieces that had for so long drifted,sharp-edged and brittle, fit back together with a pain so exquisite she couldnot tell if it was agony or bliss, and then it passed, leaving her more fullyherself than she had been in years.

After,she lay with Morgan’s arms wrapped around her and Morgan’s heartbeat thunderingbeneath her ear. Her body ached in its wholeness. She’d come here to grieve andto find a new direction. Instead she’d found Morgan. While her scientific mindbalked at the idea of spiritual guidance, she couldn’t help but feel herfather’s hand in this. Of course she’d fall in love with this place and withthe one person besides her father who had always embodied it. She’d be a foolto throw that all away for a life she no longer wanted.

It’stime, she decided, and sat up.

“Youokay?” asked Morgan.

“Ineed to talk to you about something.”

Morgan’sface clouded. She dropped her eyes and then frowned. Emilia followed thedirection of the furrow and froze.

No.This can’t be happening.

Wedged between the couch cushionswas a business card. One corner had been crumpled by their bodies, but the couchhad preserved the rest. Kate’s photo looked up at them, the embossed realestate logo reflecting the last of the half-light.

Chapter Sixteen

Morgan’sblood cemented in her veins. She stared at the innocuous bit of card stock.Slowly, as wary of the card as if it were a fractious animal, she picked it up.The face that had shattered her world smiled up at her.

Abrittle laugh erupted from her lips. Sometimes the universe sent clear signsafter all.

“Morgan?”

Shecontinued gazing at the card as her last fight with Kate echoed in her skull.“Ithought things would get better.”

Thingsnever did, though. Now here she was again, blind to the truth before her.Emilia would sell her house and leave. Alone, she would stare at the mooringwhere theEmilia Rosahad lain at anchor while the boat’s owner moved onwith her life. Morgan had been a distraction, maybe even a friend, but she wasnot the sort of person women stayed with. It fit, didn’t it, that Kate would bethe one to remind her of this. Maybe it was even a kindness.

Emilianeeded to figure out her life.

WhatMorgan needed didn’t matter.

“Morgan,”Emilia said again, this time more urgently.

Shemet those brown eyes. Emilia looked frightened. Her face had lost its flush,and Morgan wondered what her own face looked like. “I think I should go.”

“What?No!” Emilia grabbed her hand.

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