14
I hover in the doorway as Morgan strips his brother down to his boxers and T-shirt and tucks him into bed. Warren’s out cold before the quilt has even been pulled over him. It’s kind of adorable, actually, the relationship these two have.
Morgan gazes down at his brother and shakes his head before rooting around in Warren’s bag and pulling out a bottle of something. Giving his brother one last look, he creeps out of the room and closes the door behind him, leaving us both standing out in the hallway.
“What’s that?” I whisper, pointing to the bottle.
“Macallan.” He exhales slowly. “I think we’ve earned this after tonight.”
He reaches for my hand and leads me down the hall to his room. Once we’re inside, he takes off his shoes and sets them by the door.
“You might as well get comfy,” he says. “I’m going to be getting you out of those clothes anyway.”
I kick my own shoes off—not nearly as neatly as him—and loosen my tie. Slipping my jacket off, I lay it over the back of a chair, then remove my waistcoat and place it on top of the jacket. Next goes my belt, which I toss on the chair for good measure. I untuck my shirt and head for the bed, climbing up and falling on my back with a groan.
Morgan appears from the bathroom holding two glasses, and I take a minute to look around the room while he pours us each a drink.
“I see Archie put everything back where it should be,” I muse. “Did you get your clothes and your–”
He pulls his phone from his pocket and holds it up before setting it on the nightstand.
“You know, I’ve never really liked whiskey.”
“That just means you haven’t had a good one.” He hands me a glass, and I pull myself up and lean on one elbow.
I take a tentative sip and feel the smoky, fruity flavour slide over my tongue. “Oh, wow.” I blink.
“Exactly.” He climbs up onto the bed next to me and leans back against the headboard, stretching his long legs out and crossing his ankles comfortably. “A good single malt should be savoured, and this one is a twenty-five-year-old sherry oak.”
I rest the glass on my belly and lean back, sinking into the pillow. “I can’t believe Warren slept through all of that.”
“Yeah.” Morgan takes another slow sip. “He’s always been a hard sleeper. Once he’s down, he’s out for the count. Even an earthquake couldn’t wake him, and I’m not joking. He once slept through an earthquake at one of our hotels in the Virgin Islands.”
“I can believe it.” I huff out a laugh. “I’ve just seen him sleep through whatever that was downstairs, and in the end, it was his own snoring that woke him up.”
I turn my head to look at him and we burst out laughing. And we laugh, and laugh, and laugh. Deep belly laughs until tears are streaming down our faces and we’ve almost spilled the expensive whiskey on the bedding.
“Oh my god.” Morgan sucks in a breath and wipes his eyes. “Sometimes with this place, I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster I can’t get off.”
“I’d ask if that’s a bad thing, but I suppose it depends on whether or not you like rollercoasters.”
“Not really.”
I place my glass on the nightstand and roll towards him, propping my head on my hand. “This place is a lot. I know that. Just because I love it doesn’t mean it’s for everyone, but for what it’s worth, I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I wouldn’t exactly say I’m glad to be here.” He reaches for my free hand and turns it over, tracing my palm with his thumb. “But I’m glad to be here with you.”
For several drawn-out moments we sit in silence as he strokes my skin.
“What’s bothering you?” I ask softly. “You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
He sighs, letting his head fall back so he is staring up at the canopy of the bed. “It feels like it.”
“Then tell me,” I coax. “You know what they say. A problem shared is a problem two people have.”
He snorts out a laugh and then sighs again. “Warren and I talked about selling off the hotel business we inherited from my stepfather.”
“That’s… okay, wow. I was not expecting that.” I study his troubled but gorgeously grumpy face while he continues to absently draws patterns on my palm. “It’s a big decision.”
“Yeah, it is.” He nods and drops his gaze, staring contemplatively at the contents of his glass.
“How do you feel about that? Selling the business?”
“I have very mixed feelings. It’s complicated. I loved my stepfather, not the way I loved my father, but…” He shakes his head. “Royce was a good man. He never treated me any different than he treated Warren. As far as he was concerned, we were both his sons and everything was equal, from punishments to birthdays to college educations.”
“That’s good.” I squeeze his hand. “I’m glad.”
“He passed away so suddenly. A heart attack, there one minute and gone the next. He literally worked himself into an early grave. His dream was to own the biggest, most luxurious chain of hotels, and he did it. The Hamilton Hotel brand has an impeccable reputation and is worth billions. Ren and I have worked our asses off for the last ten years to make sure of it, make sure we preserved his legacy.”
“So what changed?”
“My perspective, I guess. The last ten years have been nonstop. Travel meetings, long days.” He blows out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know, maybe it’s being here. Maybe it’s thinking about death, or what comes after. We kind of have the answer to that, or part of it anyway. I’ve just been thinking, when my time comes and I look back and remember my life, what will I see? I don’t want to drop dead at fifty-five and realise all I did was work. It took meeting you to recognise that.”
My heart speeds up as he links his fingers with mine and raises my hand to his mouth. He plants a soft kiss on the back of my hand that I feel all the way down to my soul.
“I do know this. Whatever it is between us is still new, but I feel things for you I’ve never felt for anyone else. I’ve never even really dated someone seriously, never been in a relationship, but I’d really like to try because…” He hesitates. “I feel like we could have something special. I don’t know why, it’s like a–”
“A gut feeling,” I whisper. “An instinct.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs.
“I do too. I mean, yes to all the above.” I smile. “I mean, I feel that way too, about you and that we could have something special.”
“I’m worried I’m going to mess it all up.”
“Mess it up how?” I ask softly.
“With you, with Warren and the business, with saving the hotel, with Grandfather.”
I can hear him stressing himself out, so I roll onto my knees and throw my leg over his, settling myself in his lap. Taking his glass, I set it down on the nightstand and cup his face in my hands so I can press a lingering kiss to his lips.
“Stop,” I murmur as I pull back and look into his eyes. “You’re worrying about too many things at once. It’s going to feel like you’re drowning. Let’s start with me. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m certainly not making any demands of you.”
“But I haven’t even been able to take you on a proper date yet, and we’re supposed to be getting to know each other.”
“I don’t know what the men who’ve danced in and out of your live have been like, but honestly, I’m easy. As long as I get to see you in between your trips, I’m good. We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other and see how we fit. I don’t need fancy restaurants. To be honest, I’ve been a bit spoiled by Aggie. I don’t think any other restaurants are going to compare to her cooking.”
“True.” He’s watching me with a small smile tugging at his lips. “I want to spoil you though.”
“I don’t need you to spoil me. I just need you.” The words slip out before I can censor them, but even as they pass my lips, I know they’re true. Meeting him changed me too.
“You really are something special,” he mutters, and I smile, warmth radiating through my body.
“Okay, what was the next item on your list?” I think hard. “Warren and your stepdad’s fancy hotel company. Well for starters, Warren adores you, anyone can see that. What’s just as obvious is the bond you share.”
“I know.” He frowns. “And just because I want to slow down and make some changes to my life, I don’t want him to feel obligated to do what I want. Selling off his dad’s company–”
“You do that a lot,” I mutter.
“What?”
“Call it his dad’s.”
“Do I?” He blinks and I nod.
“Do you feel deep down that it’s not yours too, or that you haven’t earned it?” I tilt my head as I study him.
“I have no idea,” he murmurs thoughtfully. “Warren and I both love the hotel business, it’s all we’ve ever known. Even as kids, we’d run loose in whichever of the hotels we were staying at. We moved around a lot while he oversaw the building and running of new properties. It’s in our blood. I can’t imagine doing anything else, and I don’t think Warren can either. But a huge multibillion-dollar chain of luxury hotels was Royce’s dream. A part of me feels guilty at even the thought of selling it off.”
“You don’t have to, you know, even if you want to take a step back or down. You could get a CEO or someone else in to run it, couldn’t you? Why sell it?”
“Warren had this idea, which I have to admit sounds appealing… really appealing. And if we were to move forward with it, we would need money to do it. A lot of money. It’s going to be expensive and challenging and–”
“Exciting? I can see the fire in your eyes. Something that’s missing when you talk about your job the way it is now.”
“Warren floated the idea of downsizing. Instead of running this dreadnought of a hotel empire with its cut-and-paste formula for all its assets, we build a new one that’s completely ours. A smaller portfolio, but the hotels would be rescued historical buildings. I mean, there would be so much red tape, but a lot of conservation work. We could save old buildings and turn them into exclusive but accessible boutique hotels so that the history is preserved and people can still enjoy them.”
“I wonder where he got that idea.” We both grin.
“There’s just one problem though.” Morgan’s smile falls. “Even if we agreed and proceeded with either selling the Hamilton group off as one business or broke it down and sold off the hotels individually or in batches—which would generate more income to buy and renovate some of the new hotel stock—it would take a fair amount of time. There’s no way we can do it in time to save this place.”
“That’s okay.” I stroke his face. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“But this estate, it’s in a very tenuous place. With the money Warren and I have poured into it so far, it’s been enough to keep it from going to auction, but it won’t hold the creditors off forever. We need more money coming in, more than a few extra guests. We need investment and renovations. It’s your home, and Bertie’s, and all the staff’s, the ghosts’, and most importantly, Grandfather’s. What if I can’t save it?”
There it was. The heart of the problem.
“Morgan, I want you to listen to me very carefully, but more importantly, I want you to hear me. You don’t have to save it. This is not all on you . WE will save the hotel, you and me as a team. You don’t have to shoulder this responsibility alone, even if it is your legacy, your inheritance. I and all the others here, both living and dead, are in this together. We will save our home.”
“You seem so sure.”
“I am. I know we’re going to do it. I don’t know how yet, but this place is ours and we will protect it.”
He stares at me, his eyes still filled with questions and worry, but there’s also a new determination in the set of his mouth and his posture.
“Together?” he says.
I nod and smile. “Together. You and me, Morgan. It’s that gut feeling again.”
“I know I’ve said it before, but I really have never met anyone like you, Ellis.”
“And that’s a good thing?” I ask hopefully.
“A very good thing.” He leans in and takes my mouth.
Every thought drains out of my head and all I can register is the feel of his lips and the taste of the whiskey on his tongue. My hands snake into his hair and grip as I roll my hips and feel him harden beneath me.
His hands slide around to cup my buttocks and pull me in closer, guiding me to ride against him, the friction sublime as my own hard cock rubs against his.
“I want you,” I pant against his mouth. “I’ve wanted you all day.”
Releasing his hair, I slip my hands under his sweater to find warm skin. He groans into my mouth and I swallow the sound eagerly. My fingertips rake through his chest hair, my nails lightly teasing over his sensitive nipples, and he sucks in a sharp breath.
“Fuck,” he hisses. He reaches for the buttons of my shirt, flicking them open so he can drag the material over my shoulders and kiss every inch of skin he reveals.
I arch into his touch, crying out as his hot mouth closes over my nipple and he sucks tightly.
I’m riding his lap harder now, my dick throbbing in my pants. He switches sides, lavishing as much focus on the other nipple.
I fumble in my desperation for him, my fingers clumsy as I grab the hem of his sweater and drag it up and over his head, breaking the connection between his lips and my chest. Tossing the bundle of material over my shoulder, I wrap my arms around his neck and press our upper bodies together, hot flesh to hot naked flesh. My lips find his once more, and as we slant our lips together, I open and slide my tongue into his mouth.
God, I could kiss this man until the end of time. Every part of me is attuned to him. It feels so perfect, some would say too perfect, but not me. It’s not my nature. I don’t question why, I’d rather spend every moment I have just savouring this sexy, complex man who feels like he was created just for me.
I don’t know how I know that, I just do.
“Morgan,” I gasp, throwing my head back as we break the kiss. He latches onto my neck and sucks a teasing trail down to the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder.
Goosebumps erupt over my skin and my nipples harden against his chest. I groan again, the rough texture of his chest hair abrading the overstimulated nubs. Before I can open my mouth to demand more, I feel him unhook my trousers and lower the zip so he can reach in and fist my aching cock.
“Fuck,” I cry out, unable to help myself. I thrust forward into his firm grip. As my foreskin slides back, he teases the head of my cock, swirling the dampness of my precum in little circular patterns with his thumb.
He slides this other hand down the back of my trousers, tracing along my crease and pressing against my hole.
“Please,” I moan.
Suddenly, he withdraws both hands. I give a little moue of distress, but he nudges my hips.
“Strip now,” he commands. Fire races down my spine, my cock giving a throb of approval at the authority in his voice.
Not needing to be told twice, I roll off him and onto my back so we’re side by side. Morgan fumbles for the zipper on his jeans and lifts his bum up to shove them and his underwear down his legs, peeling his socks off too. I follow suit, stripping the rest of my clothes off until I’m stark naked. I’m rolling up onto my knees as he opens the drawer to grab the lube.
Once he shifts back, I scrabble back into his lap, making a hum of pleasure at the feel of his hot cock against mine. I give him long enough to squeeze some lube onto his fingertips and reach behind me before my mouth is back on him, kissing him feverishly.
The cool slickness of his fingers presses against my hole, massaging in small circles, then he slides the first finger in slowly. I groan.
“More,” I demand, impatient and not worried about the slight burn. I want him inside me so badly my damp cock is leaving tiny trails along his stomach as I grind against him.
Two of his fingers push inside me and I suck in a breath, trying to relax. He pumps those long digits in and out, working me open and teasing my prostate every now and then.
“Oh god.” I throw my head back when he hits the spot again. With all patience now gone, I pull his hand away and reach for his cock, lining it up with my hole and sinking down.
It burns a bit but I want it. I want to feel him overwhelming me.
“Ellis, wait,” he chokes out, his voice gravelly. He lifts me back up and I whine in protest as he slips from my body. But he doesn’t give in; instead, he reaches for the lube again, coating his cock and tossing the bottle aside.
This time when he notches the head of his cock in my opening, I push down onto him, my body giving way and allowing his invasion. I give a needy cry and push down until he’s in me to the root. Panting, I roll my hips, feeling the stretch and fullness.
I wrap my arms back around his neck, pulling him in as close as possible. We kiss deeply as I begin to ride him in earnest, I love the feel of him buried deep inside me. He grabs my bum cheeks and forces me onto his dick harder, faster. It’s so fucking hot, having him control my movements.
The whole world spins around me as the tension in my body builds. I’m not going to last; I’m already wrecked, my cock throbbing with every grind against his stomach. I roll my hips over and over, searching for that spot.
He leans me back, the angle changes, and sweet bliss explodes inside me. The thick, heavy club of his cock hammers at my prostate, making me see stars. I’m lost to the pleasure.
I feel him moan and writhe beneath me, as desperate as I am.
“Fuck, fuck!” I yell, not really caring about my volume. His brother may only be a few doors down, but he’s already demonstrated that nothing short of a universal cataclysm would wake him.
“Harder, yes! Right there! Ahhhhh.”
He wraps his arms around me and rolls over in a move so smooth I don’t register it until I’m staring up at the ancient canopy of the bed as he pounds into me. He hooks my knees into the crooks of his elbows, almost folding me in half.
“Oh my god, so good! Don’t stop! Don’t stop.”
He absolutely destroys me in the best possible way. My head spins, my body burns, and my ass is on fire, but the place deep inside me sends shock waves of pure pleasure through my body like a tsunami. I tense suddenly, then come hard, no warning at all, exploding between us and shooting hot cum up his torso.
He cries out as I tighten around his dick, giving two more deep, battering thrusts, and then comes. A follow-up long, drawn-out moan escapes as he buries his face in my sweaty neck and gives a deep exhale.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs almost drunkenly into my skin. “Did I break you?”
I laugh in delight and he groans. “Don’t laugh, you’re tightening around my cock and it’s too sensitive.”
I laugh again and reach for his head, lifting it from the crook of my neck and smiling up at him. “No, you didn’t break me. That was incredible. You’re an animal.”
He moans in mortification. “I don’t know what happened, I just lost control.”
“It’s called chemistry, Morgan.” I kiss his swollen lips. “And I think we’ve proven we have it in spades.”
He pulls out of me slowly. “Do you want my fingers?” he mumbles and kisses me back. “I know you like me to feel how much I’ve come inside you.”
“I do.” I smile against his lips. “Because it’s sexy. But not tonight. I’m tired. I just want you to hold me.”
Morgan gives a little hum of pleasure and rolls onto his side, pulling me in close.
“I should probably clean us both up,” he murmurs. “But I’m exhausted.”
“It’s okay, baby.” I stroke his hair back from his face. “Go to sleep.”
“Ellis?”
“Hmm?”
He yawns so widely I hear his jaw crack. “We didn’t talk about what happened this evening.” He looks at me with sleepy eyes. “Do you really think we set three potentially homicidal ghosts loose?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I pat him gently as he slides into sleep, and then I lean in closer to murmur in his ear.
“That’s a tomorrow problem.”