Morgan's Chase 1 (Power Play)
Chapter 19
They got back after dark again. The day, the game, the sun and yet another filling dinner -- this one of steak and fries at a Steelers-themed restaurant near the stadium -- left them all blissfully fulfilled, happy and fatigued.
Morgan marched the children upstairs after each received hugs and hair tousles from Travis. But there were no goodbyes between him and Morgan. Not yet.
She made a point of telling him to stay.
“We need to finalize those kitchen plans,” Morgan said while herding her two children toward the stairs. “You mind waiting around?”
Travis shook his head.
And later, when Morgan returned after putting the kids to bed, she went for the fridge and removed two beers. She popped the tops and handed one to Travis. He rose from the table and took it.
“About those plans,” he began to say.
“Plans are overrated,” Morgan cut him off playfully. She swigged her beer and stepped closer to him.
“Sometimes you need to act on instinct,” she said.
Morgan stepped into him.
Travis Walker’s chest was rigid and strong. His entire body was compact, solid and utilitarian, not overly muscled and showy. He smelled of sunlight and the outdoors. And he didn’t back away a single inch. After all, Travis Walker had never backed away from anything in his life.
Morgan took another drink, and then slid her arms around his waist. She rested her beer on the countertop behind them. Travis’ body was hot, as if it had absorbed the day’s worth of sunlight.
Travis swung back his head, slugged his own beer, and then looked down at Morgan.
“What are we doing?” he said.
“Acting,” Morgan said. Her eyes smoldered at a sultry half-mast. “On instinct.”
She pulled him tighter. His waist was compact. His hips, tight. The bulge in his jeans, full and pronounced.
The day of watching this fine man had been foreplay for Morgan. She was primed and ready to swing for the fences now.
Morgan grinded into him harder.
Her hands ran up his muscled, sinewy back. It was so strong and solid under his thin, soft T-shirt.
She pressed her own ample chest into his. Yet she felt him standing rigid, holding back.
“Don’t you like me?” Morgan asked, pulling back and showing him a pout.
He smiled down at her, even as he shook his head.
“No,” he said. “I do like you. That’s just it. I like you and your children very much. But things that begin like this never seem to last.”
“You admit, there’s something here?” she lawyered him. “Between us?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Then let’s explore it,” she said breathlessly, pressing into him again.
“We are,” he said. “We’ve done a lot of exploring for just two days. And it’s only made me want more.”
“Then take it,” she offered. “Have more.”
“I will,” he nodded. “We will. But not now. Not like this. Not this soon.”
Morgan pulled back and studied the ugly linoleum floor.
“You think I’m some kind of slut,” she said into his chest. “I was out all night the morning we met, and here I am throwing myself at you after a ballgame and a beer.”
“And it’s taking everything I have to hold myself back,” Travis said. “The thing is, I want a whole lot more than just tonight.”
She looked up at him then. The more Morgan knew about this wonderful, mysterious man, the more she wanted to know. Travis had a way of making her want more and more and more.
“Who are you?” she asked, shaking her head in bewilderment. “You show up in my life, and everything turns upside down. Just who in the hell are you?”
“I’m here,” he said kindly. “I’m right where I want to be and nowhere else. I’m present. I’m real. I’m ready. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He leaned down and kissed her mouth.
The breath through his nose was hot and heavy. His lips were soft, but the firmness of his kiss pressed hard into Morgan’s mouth. She could feel the brittles of his beard stubble scratching her cheeks. She opened her mouth and accepted his tongue.
Their mouths and tongues explored each other. In their hunger, it was as if they meant to devour each other. The passions in their bodies ignited blazes in their already stimulated erogenous zones. The fullness of his package became rigid and hard in his jeans. Hers became aching and wet.
But as they pulled hard and close into each other, both of them realized that their nerve-quivering desire to discover each other would only deepen and build with time. Indeed, if they could play each other’s bodies like symphonies with mere kisses, just think what soaring music they could create together if they permitted their feelings and passions to crescendo in equal measure.
So even as her hungry mouth and aching body yearned and beckoned for his throbbing manhood deep inside of her, Morgan knew Travis was right.
The act, while so immediate and instinctual, would only siphon away the intensity from what was quickly becoming the most wonderfully romantic experience of her life.
The journey she and Travis were on now stood the chance of blossoming into something so monumental, not even the pimply-faced sophomore left to yearn and dream and masturbate alone in her dorm room could have dared imagine it.
“I guess I should go,” Travis managed, breaking off their oxygen-depriving deep kisses.
Both of them were panting. The heat and electricity between them had manifested itself in the form of their steam-like breath, the sheen of sweat on their faces and chests and, of course, in their swollen, aching genitals.
Morgan licked her nearly numb lips, as she struggled to catch her breath.
“As much as I hate to admit it, yeah,” she exhaled. “But I need to see you. Every minute with you makes me want another day, week, month, year. Do not leave me like this.”
“I’m not leaving,” Travis said. “Just pausing for intermission. See you tomorrow?”
“Count on it,” Morgan said, her hands falling away from him as the stepped toward the door. “If not, I’ll hunt you down, sailor. SEAL or no SEAL, you never faced Morgan Chase on a mission.”
“Could be fun,” he said, opening the kitchen door.
“You have no idea,” Morgan said, raising a sly, slanted, sexy grin that told of all the pleasures yet to come.