Page 59 of Spindrift

Emiliadrew a line along the border of Morgan’s briefs. “Is this whatyouwant?”

“Not.What. I asked.”

Footstepssounded on the wood of the wharf. She kissed her hard on the mouth, willing theintruder back into their boat so that she could fuck Morgan Donovan blindagainst this wall, right now, right here.

Achild laughed in the distance.

“Fuck,”she swore as she pulled away. Morgan’s flushed cheeks glowed in the neardarkness, and removing her hand felt like the hardest thing Emilia had everdone. She allowed herself to linger in the shelter of Morgan’s arms until thefootsteps drew even with the boathouse.

“Weshould patch that boat of yours,” Morgan said in her ear. Each word vibratedthrough her.

“Orwe could go out in your boat.”Or your truck, or a locker, or anywhere wewon’t be interrupted.

“Ihave a four o’clock appointment.” Morgan’s voice dripped regret.

“Thatgives us an hour,” Emilia said. She supported Morgan as she put weight back onher damaged foot and waved at the small boy and his father as they walked by.

“Ifyou think I’ll be done with you in an hour, then you’ve severely underestimatedme,” Morgan said. She nipped Emilia’s ear and drew her lips slowly along theouter curve. The sensation nearly killed her. Only her hold on Morgan kept herupright.

“Comeon,” Morgan continued and, limping, she led Emilia out into the sunlight.

Emiliasank onto the grass by her boat. Morgan slid down beside her and produced thecrumpled sandpaper from her pocket, but made no move to use it as they bothcaught their breath.

Desireand rationality warred in Emilia’s head. All the reasons to avoid anentanglement battled the aching, immediate need that swept her body in shock waves.This was the problem. This was why she couldn’t do this. Her mind stoppedworking when Morgan was around, making informed choices impossible. She hadnothing to offer this woman. Nothing besides her body and her confusion, andshe’d come here to find answers. Losing herself in Morgan would cloud that. Itwas also all she wanted to do.That kiss . . .Mustering her thoughtswas like herding cats. Her mind presented her with recent and vivid memories ofMorgan, and anything else faded to white noise.

“Look.”Morgan’s tousled curls tumbled over her forehead, and Emilia dug her nails intoher palms to prevent herself from brushing them back.

“What?”

“You’re. . . This has to be your call.”

“Whatdo you mean?”

“Ican’t . . .” Morgan trailed off again as she looked at Emilia with those dark,blue-gray eyes. “I can’t fucking resist you so if this isn’t what you want, ithas to be your call.”

Thewords settled in her mind, heavy and sobering even as they thrilled her. Thenaked vulnerability in Morgan’s face mirrored the ache in Emilia’s chest. Shewasn’t the only one this could hurt. That realization cooled some of the heatin her blood.

“Idon’t really know what I want.”

“That’skind of what I guessed.”

“Iactually came here planning to tell you that. I didn’t mean to . . . for that .. . it’s your fault.”

“How?”asked Morgan.

“You’retoo goddamn perfect.”

“Sorry?”

“I’ma mess, Morgan.”

“Ahot mess.”

“Idon’t even know what this is.” She gestured between herself and Morgan.“Besides the fact that I would have fucked you in a heartbeat back there if youhadn’t stopped me.”

Morgan’ssharp intake of breath reawakened the need to touch her. She put her hand onMorgan’s good ankle.

“Trustme. I would have let you,” said Morgan.

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