He clipped on her helmet and pulled her tight against him. She curled around his back and hung on for dear life, closing her eyes for the entire ride back to his place. When he pulled up to his house and parked the bike, he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the house. She didn’t protest when he insisted she go straight to bed, and carried her there. She was eager to get into bed with Morgan; that desire she’d felt earlier had only intensified as she’d ridden behind him, her body pressed against his strong back, lean hips, firm buttocks, and the flapping leather jacket he wore. But as she staggered to the bedroom, her desire faded. She felt battered and bruised, worn down and fragile. She stripped down and crawled into bed, and Morgan crawled in next to her, cuddling her close to his naked body and holding her tightly. The masculine scent of his body filled her nose and she sighed happily. His fingers lightly wandered across her skin and the tension slowly eased.
