Cuff Master (32 page)

Ethan set the phone on the bedside table and turned off the
light. He’d worry about the dungeon and everything else before Sam arrived.

Morgan curled into him, holding on tight. Snuggling up with
her, he kissed the top of her head.

She was precious to him. When he and Sam found the truth
behind Jenna Bailey’s death, he was going to make Morgan his wife, assuming she
didn’t resent him for having doubts about her friend Remy.

Tired and stressed, he worried he might not sleep. Morgan’s
presence calmed him, reminding him that she was safe and nothing could harm her
as long as he held her tight.

Closing his eyes, Ethan drifted off, dreaming about the
night he and Morgan just shared.

Chapter Eleven

Ethan came awake with a start, rapidly becoming aware that
his woman was not only back from subspace, she was horny. She’d climbed on top
of him, centered her sweet pussy against his shaft and was slowly grinding
herself against him.

“This is a nice way to wake up,” he murmured, hugging her up
close to his body and loving the feel of Morgan’s softness against his
rock-hard cock.

“Morning, handsome, had a very nice time last night,” she
said, causing him to become aware of the dull gray light of early morning that
spread through the bedroom. “I feel so whole and open and magical.”

“Magical? I like that,” Ethan said, belatedly realizing that
he’d slept too late. “Shit, I overslept.”

“It’s not even six in the morning.”

“Yeah, but Sam’s on her way over. She’ll be here any
minute.”

Morgan lifted herself up. She looked amazing, beautiful and
all feminine temptation. “I need you, Ethan. Make love to me.”

“Honey, we need to talk first.”

She shook her head. “Not enough time. Sam’s coming over,
remember?”

Morgan switched her hips just so, tempting him to say hell
with it all and fuck her. But if he did, he’d delay the inevitable argument
they were going to have. She was fiercely protective of Remy. If he said this
wrong, she was going to be hurt and might blame it on Ethan.

Unfortunately, his thoughts went out the fucking window when
Morgan shifted exactly the right way, taking him into her body.

The snug, wet grip of her pussy welcomed him home. It’d only
been a few hours since they’d had sex. His cock didn’t care. His cock was happy
and snug, and holy God, her grip was tighter and hotter than ever.

As Morgan rocked her hips and surged, taking him for a ride,
Ethan became aware of an insistent pounding at the front door. “Sam’s here.”

“Best make it fast, Detective Maddox. I’ve got an orgasm
with your name on it.”

Put that way, Ethan better get moving. Gripping her hips
tighter, he thrust harder, always loving the fit and feel of her pussy. Without
much preamble, they chased each other to climax, hot and fast and raw.

It was pure, quickie sex and he loved it, loved Morgan.
Hell, he loved everything right now.

“Have I told you I love you today?” Ethan asked, laughing
softly as they clung to each other in the aftermath of intense orgasm.

“I believe you just did,” Morgan answered. “I love you just
as much.”

The knocking downstairs became a ringing doorbell. The day
had officially begun and reality was about to intrude in a big way.

Morgan suddenly popped up and off him in a nimble move that
would have done a gymnast proud, her smile one of pure satisfaction and
happiness.

“Hey, what’s your rush?”

“The ringing doorbell and I’ve got to pee,” she said,
dancing.

Before he could even push up on his elbows, she ran to the
bathroom and slammed the door. Ethan got up, made his way to the dresser and
pulled out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt.

Before getting dressed, he made a quick stop in the bathroom
to take a long, necessary piss. Morgan was already in the shower and washing
her hair. He finished up, not caring that he’d just urinated in front of her.

Now that was love right there. When you’re comfortable
enough with your woman, bodily functions were a necessity and not a big deal.
Not that she noticed. She was enjoying her shower.

Ethan quickly washed his hands, brushed his teeth, splashed
his face and washed his groin with cool water. He couldn’t keep Sam waiting for
much longer. There was a good chance she’d damage the doorbell by now or kick
the door in until it splintered.

Rushing out of the bathroom, he pulled on the jeans, flung
the shirt over his shoulder and made it to the foyer.

And he was almost felled by a flying fist when he opened the
door. Sam had enough control to draw her hand back and keep from maiming
something important.

She was in her most practical clothes, jeans, shit-kickers,
motorcycle jacket and a black tee shirt. Her long honey-blonde hair was pulled
back into a basic ponytail.

She didn’t seem to notice the slight chill in the air or
that the sky was a dull gray. From the looks of things, autumn showers were in
the forecast.

“Fucking hell, Ethan, I thought you’d never get down here,”
she growled furiously. “Grab the coffee. I’ve got the doughnuts.”

“Good morning to you too, partner.” Ethan stepped out of her
path, managing to retrieve the cardboard takeout tray with three coffees that’d
been sitting on the front stoop.

“Told you I’d be here first thing.”

“I heard you. Sorry, got sidetracked,” he apologized.

Sam paused, flushing as she realized his state of dress was
still disheveled. He hadn’t bothered to comb his hair or put on his shirt.

“Any chance Taran looks as good as you half dressed?” Sam
asked.

Quiet footsteps came up behind Ethan. “Samantha, we have to
talk,” Morgan said, moving right up to Sam.

Morgan’s hair was covered by a towel and she wore a robe.
She was still kind of damp from her hasty shower. She smelled great.

“Yes, we do. Ladies night out when Cassie gets home Friday,”
Sam declared. “We need to know all about the honeymoon and you need to tell us
that my partner here is treating you right. Otherwise, I may have to hogtie him
for a couple nights in the pen.”

Morgan grinned wide-as-you-please. “Being hogtied by Ethan’s
not so bad. If his kid brother’s as good, I’d have to tell you to go for him
sooner rather than later.”

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Sam said. “You hungry? I
brought breakfast.”

“Starving,” Morgan answered. She took the box of doughnuts
from Sam and headed off for the kitchen. “I’m going to snatch up one of these
and head back upstairs to finish drying my hair and get dressed.”

“Something’s wrong,” Sam commented when Ethan stared off
after Morgan.

“There’s something she needs to know and I haven’t told her
yet.”

“Told her what?”

“Remy’s the person of interest the Danvers police are
looking for in her case,” Ethan admitted.

“Are you serious? You’d better tell her, Ethan. If she hears
that from anyone but you, you might be sleeping on the sofa for a couple of
weeks.”

“I know.” And if he hadn’t been thinking with his dick about
fifteen minutes ago, he’d have told her by now. “Can you take the coffees to
the kitchen? I’m going to go talk to her now.”

“Got your laptop nearby?”

“It’s on the kitchen counter. Help yourself. Be back in a
few minutes.”

Ethan bypassed the kitchen because he heard Morgan make her
way upstairs. He followed and found her brushing her hair while staring out the
window to the alley below.

“Morgan,” he said, moving up to her.

Her brushing was slow and sensual. She turned to face him,
her after-sex glow making her stunning. Morgan was already the most beautiful
woman Ethan knew. Knowing their night in the dungeon put that satisfied gleam
in her eyes made him feel like a hero.

But he was about to turn that smile upside down. “Honey, we
need to talk.”

“Can I get dressed first?”

“It can’t wait. I should have insisted we talk before now. I
should have woken you up when I got the call, but you were flying and I
couldn’t risk having you come down too fast.”

Morgan frowned a little. “What’s going on?”

“Take a seat,” he urged, handing her to the lounge chair he
liked to camp out on when he wanted to read the
Boston Globe
before
heading to work.

She obeyed, still with the hairbrush in her hand.

“Morgan, I got a message from the police officer in charge
of your case,” he began, kneeling in front of her. “The witness who came
forward pointed investigators to a person of interest. Police need to know
where Remy is, Morgan.”

It took a few seconds for her to realize what he’d said. One
minute she was staring into his eyes, the next she stood up so fast that she’d
knocked him right on his ass.

“What? How can that be possible?” she shouted, refusing to
let him touch her when he scrambled to his feet and went to grab her hand to
stop her from stomping off in a huff.

“I don’t know much more than what I’ve told you. But Remy
Sinclair is the man the witness claimed to have seen.”

“The witness is mistaken. Remy wouldn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t
lie. I’d know. I would know.” She turned her hand inward, poking herself in the
chest.

“He’s a public figure in New England and easily
recognizable. This doesn’t mean he did anything wrong, but if there’s the
slightest chance that he hurt you, you can bet I will turn his ass into
authorities.”

“You can’t do that, you wouldn’t,” Morgan said, maintaining
her stance.

Ethan didn’t want to lose patience. He knew this would be
her reaction. “Morgan, think. I know you like Remy. Hell, I liked the guy. I
don’t want to be the one standing here telling you this. I put it off. I was
wrong. I’m sorry.”

Morgan shook her head. “You said liked, past tense. You’re
jealous.”

“Not this time. As a cop, I need to advise you to call Remy
and get him to contact Danvers PD. If he’s got nothing to hide, he won’t balk
at giving them an explanation as to what he was doing in the back parking lot.
“

Some of the steam in Morgan’s temper evaporated, causing her
to reclaim a seat. She tried to brush her hair again. Then she flung the brush
aside and buried her face in her palms, crying.

Going to her, Ethan didn’t let her escape being dragged into
his arms. Even though she was pissed, he wasn’t going to abandon her or let a
disagreement get the better of their relationship.

He had the feeling their love was about to be tested. He
could handle that. He had the mettle and wasn’t going to let anything come
between them.

“I would know, Ethan, I would know if Remy hurt me,” she
insisted.

“I don’t want to think he could have, Morgan. My gut told me
something was off with what he told me the night you’d been attacked. I’d
thought it was because he’d taken my woman on a date.”

“Thought you were over that,” Morgan muttered against his
shoulder. She remained tense, yet she wasn’t fighting to get off his lap.

“I can’t deny that it pissed me off, but I realize now why
the two of you went out.”

Morgan shook her head again. “It just doesn’t make sense.
There’s no way I can be wrong about this. I know him. I’ve read his palm,
Tarot, his wallet, you name it. He’s an open book to me.”

Ethan gently set Morgan on the chair and went to get the
bedside phone. “Call him, Morgan.”

Before he even handed the phone to Morgan, Sam’s voice came
out from the stairway. “Ethan, Morgan, get your asses down here. We need to get
to Salem ASAP.”

The urgency in his partner’s voice forced Ethan and Morgan
to finish getting dressed. All it took for Ethan was pulling his tee shirt over
his head and grabbing some socks, combat boots and his coat.

He’d love to take a long shower, but since he’d washed last
night before falling asleep and first thing this morning at the sink, he felt
relatively clean.

Morgan went into the closet, showing no sign of reservation,
and came back out with a brown skirt, blouse and Ugg boots. Wishing she’d
chosen something colorful but unable to question her choice, he said nothing.

He watched her get panties and a bra out of the drawer she’d
claimed for her undergarments. She dressed with speed and efficiency. Her hair
was still damp, but drying.

“Let’s go,” she insisted, heading off to the hallway.

Ethan caught up with her halfway down the stairs, taking her
hand just before they went into the kitchen.

Samantha was pacing nervously. It was so uncharacteristic of
her, he frowned.

“I’m sorry, Morgan,” Sam said, stopping in midstride and
facing Morgan head on. This was the face Sam Riley put on when she had bad
news.

“What is it?” Morgan asked shyly.

“There’s been a fire at Enchanted Treasures. It started
around three in the morning. Investigators believe it was arson,” Samantha
explained. “Your store…it’s been ruined. Firemen worked for hours to put it
out. It’s safe for us to head there now.”

“A fire, what fire?” Ethan demanded, even as Morgan drew up
short.

“All I know is that Taran’s been trying to call since five
this morning,” Sam stated. “He heard the alarm, checked Phalen’s police scanner
and realized the address was Morgan’s store.”

“I don’t understand,” Morgan said. “If there was a fire at
Enchanted Treasures, Grandma would have warned me.”

“We’ll figure it out together, Morgan. Ethan, I’ve packed up
your laptop. We should get to Salem.”

Morgan looked back and forth at Ethan and Samantha. She
became so sad and confused, Ethan was sure she was either going to cry or
collapse.

She did neither. She lifted her chin and said, “Let’s go.”

Morgan grabbed one of the coffees, sipped it, pausing
momentarily when she grimaced as she swallowed and then headed out the kitchen
door.

“Guess you heard the lady,” Sam said, equally confused.

“The one thing I’ve learned. If Morgan’s not shouting or
talking, she’s pissed.”

“She has the right to be. Fire was arson. Someone’s out to
hurt her.”

“That’s the reason I’m going to find this fucker and kick
his ass into the last century,” Ethan vowed. “Two fires just so happened to
affect the woman I love because she learned something incriminating about the
Bailey family? That’s not a coincidence and I might let you kick my ass for not
doing more to stop this.”

“We both tried to get Captain Morrison to reopen Jenna’s
case,” Sam remarked. “It wasn’t until I found a connection between her
stepfather and Erica White and the autopsy inconsistencies that he allowed us
back in. We need to follow the clues and we’ll find whoever did this to
Morgan.”