Chapter 2 - Morgan (Part 1)

When Morgan's mother, Isabella Sullivan, was still alive, she was proud to say that she was raising a gentleman. And until three years ago, before a pretty, reckless girl jumped into a fountain in front of him and turned his world upside down, Morgan didn't even have to put in the effort to put into practice the education his mother had given him.

How disappointed would Isabella be if she could see him right now, unable to take her eyes off Charlie's ass as they walked out of the restaurant? Surely she would make a point of gouging his eyes out so he could never do something so indecent again. Which, perhaps, was a good thing. Just maybe, he really should do this to himself.

Maybe that way the heavy cock between his legs would find a reason to calm down whenever Charlie was around.

Clearing his throat to try to contain his indiscretion, he opened the door for her, trying to focus on anything other than her sweet scent, the mesmerizing sway of her hips, her full lips or the way the blouse she was wearing rode up a notch. little whenever she moved, revealing the soft skin of her belly and making him wonder what it would be like if he lifted the fabric a little higher and freed her full breasts, which always seemed to be crying out for them, no matter how covered they were. ...

When had he started to be so easily distracted? No, that was a stupid question with an easy answer. It was after Charlie turned 18 and the fun girl he had a deep affection for began to reveal herself as a woman capable of bringing out the most primal in him.

"Are you sure you don't want more potatoes?" ’ Poor innocent Charlie, completely oblivious to the fact that all he could think about at that moment was putting her legs back around his waist, as she had unintentionally done earlier, thrust a potato chip towards his mouth. “After all, it's the only thing you can eat in this terrible capitalist temple of fake food." she teased, making him chuckle.

She always made him smile.

"I just don't like the idea of wasting precious space in my stomach on meat mixed with cardboard, when I could be eating something so much better..." when he noticed that his eyes were about to stray to her legs, Morgan caught himself squeezing the steering wheel almost to the point of breaking it "And, well, don't forget we still have to carry out the tradition of me taking you out to dinner at a real restaurant after this."

"I know I know. I have to make it up to you for the trauma of coming to a place like this...” Charlie laughed, flooding the car with the best sound in the world, at least for Morgan. "Just make sure you don't spend a car's worth on the bill again...” she paused for a moment, thoughtful, until a huge smile spread across her face, “Actually, why don't you do better and cook for me again? I've never had anything better than that pasta carbonara you made for me.".

"Cook for you...? At home...?" he gasped, almost panicking as he imagined Charlie standing in his kitchen once more, leaning over his worktop as she watched him prepare food...

Several times, when she was seventeen, he had accustomed her to dinner at his house and eating his food. Frankly, she was the only person alive who knew he liked to cook. But once, not long after she turned 18, Morgan had made the mistake of asking her out to dinner again... And she showed up at his house in a dress that barely reached mid-thigh and a neckline that left nothing to the imagination. For the first time, his cock began to disagree with his mind and, instead of a young friend, he began to see her as a woman who would look even more beautiful lying on the bed, legs apart, while he fucked her pussy. .

He had tried to convince himself that if it weren't for that damned day, he wouldn't have discovered his desire for Charlie and would have continued to love her pure and free of malice. But that too was a lie. That deep love for her had always been inside of him, growing with each new hug she gave him, each word they exchanged, each look he stole from her…Just waiting to become something more ardent. It's forbidden.

During a brief moment of insanity, just that night all those years ago when she'd shown up at his apartment in that indecent rag that had no right to be called a dress, he'd even wondered if she was doing it all on purpose: pressing herself against his body whenever she could, leaning over the sink to the point where her boobs looked ready to burst out of her cleavage, and putting her ass in the air whenever she bent down to pick something up… But soon he saw himself scolded for daring to think those kinds of things about her. Charlie wasn't to blame for anything. She was just an innocent young woman who had the right to wear whatever clothes she wanted, and it just so happened that she felt comfortable enough around him to express her friendship with physical touches.

And mostly, it wasn't her fault that he couldn't stop fantasizing about what it would be like to have her in his bed.

"Earth to Morgan!" He blinked as a pair of slender fingers snapped repeatedly in front of his eyes, bringing him back to reality. Charlie smiled, snuggling into the passenger seat, contentedly. "Just a tip, I'm still dreaming about that pasta in white sauce last time."

"I..." Clearing his throat, he had to make a monumental effort to look away from that little pink tongue darting across her full lips. "So, I'm sorry, but I won't be able to take you to my apartment this time..." seeing her lower lip start to form a pout, he immediately amended another sentence "But I still have some frozen dishes at home. I promise I'll bring you some when I visit again tonight."

"You always bring me frozen food..." she lamented, in a mixture of sadness and irritation "I wanted you to cook for me and then the two of us ate together, like in the old days."

"Maybe another day?" He struggled to smile, even though he knew it was a lie. Since he didn't trust himself to be alone with Charlie in his house, then it was best for her that they avoid as much as possible any kind of place where he couldn't give in to the desire to kiss her.

Not looking too pleased with his answer, Charlie crossed her arms over her chest and puffed out her cheeks, turning her face all the way towards the window, sulking, remaining silent the entire way to the entrance to the Manson mansion, where Morgan had finally created courage to speak again, trying to lessen her disappointment with a joke.

"Do you know if Chuck's bride is lurking around?" he murmured, looking theatrically around the neatly trimmed bushes and trees of the huge garden, feigning panic. "I'm afraid of being attacked."

"Poor thing..." even without turning to him, Morgan could see her amused little smile through the reflection of the window "Would you faint if I said yes? Should I don my silver armor and save you?"

"I would love." In a moment of distraction, he reached out to caress her cheek, but at the last moment he berated himself, contenting himself with just tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, touching it as little as possible to avoid temptation. "I'll need it when we get inside."

“You don't have to take me in there." She shook her head, determined, seeming to have completely forgotten that she was supposed to be sulking "Seriously, I don't want to give Samantha the taste of being able to flirt with you under her own husband's roof."

“You know you don't have to put up with this anymore." He encouraged her, needing to clench his fists tightly around the steering wheel to stop himself from stroking her face once more "Just accept my proposal to find you an apartment. You can pay me later, if you're so keen." that little lie made him smile, at the same time that Charlie rolled her eyes.

“Or, you can just stop being stubborn and let me move in with you." She raised an eyebrow, as if challenging him.

“Well, looks like we're going to go another day without getting what we want, apparently." keeping all the nervousness he felt out of his voice, Morgan swallowed the rough feeling that churned inside his chest whenever he was forced to leave her, before speaking, "See you later?"

“If you bring me that homemade frozen food, I can think about your case." snorting, she quickly got out of the car, pausing only to lean out the window once she had closed the passenger door "And no extravagant gifts!"

"Don't worry. I promise I'll only buy you one island in the Caribbean this year." He winked, making her cheeks flush with what he thought was irritation. "You know, just a little souvenir."

"You're unbearable..." she whimpered softly, before turning her back on him and walking towards the huge entrance door of the mansion, leaving him alone in the room, enveloped by her scent.

Taking a deep breath, even though he knew he was in serious danger of being accosted by Samantha at any moment, Morgan took a moment to calm the wild desire racing inside and the almost uncontrollable urge to take Charlie in his arms and really take her to her apartment. Where would she be protected from her useless father, her terrible stepmother...

And where could he dress her again in that damn little dress and fulfill all the dirty fantasies that had been tormenting him for over two years.

When he finally felt calm enough to hit the road again, Morgan left the grounds of the Manson mansion faster than humanly possible, trying to concentrate only on the important mission he had for that late afternoon: finding the perfect gift for Charlie. That decision had been tormenting him for months, but nothing ever felt good enough. He knew her like the back of his hand, it was true, but that didn't help much. Charlie tended to turn down expensive gifts and her two favorite things in the world were animals and spending time with them. If Vivian Brandon, the owner of the institution she worked for, wasn't as stubborn as her owner and refused to accept very sparing donations, he would have already turned that little shed full of dogs into an NGO bigger than Anthony's mansion.

So what was left for him...?

Lost as he was in thought, his blood froze in his veins as he noticed an orange shape dart from the shoulder towards the road, heading straight for his car. His tires scraped the road with a screeching sound and the car had barely come to a full stop when he opened the door and got out to check on the unsuspecting little animal. Despite having spent most of his life being practically indifferent to animals, loving Charlie had infected him with an unconditional love for all things that had four legs, especially when they were small and fluffy.

When there was no sign of life on the empty road leading out of Charlie's house, Morgan bent to search downstairs, breathing a sigh of relief to find a full-grown orange-and-white cat huddled next to one of the rear wheels, looking completely shell-shocked but, thankfully, with no apparent injuries.