CHAPTER 21

Then she exposed the fiery hair guarding her pussy. Jack clenched his jaw. He was dying to taste her. She was already slick. Totally wet and ready. Knowing that was killing him.

Finally, her thong made it to the floor. She straightened, casting him an uncertain glance, but played brave by throwing her shoulders back and holding her head high. Jack knew from the way she squirmed that she was fighting the urge to cover her breasts with the camisole hanging from her shoulders and place a hand over her mound. But she didn’t. His respect for her courage climbed up a notch—as did his eagerness to have her completely at his mercy.

“Pick up the thong.”

Morgan stared at him, a little frown crinkling between her brows as she looked for the logic in his request. He’d break her of that habit eventually.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he warned.

With an expression torn between confusion and resignation, she bent and picked up the thong, then held it against her bare breasts. Her fiery hair lay tou