Guarding Morgan, page 9
"Is this going to have an impact on us here?"
"The leak isn't in Sanctuary, so nothing leaves this room on your location. The leak is definitely fed based." Jeez, how clichéd can this get? "Keep your eyes open, and look after your boy. If they reached out to get to the cop inside then they're sure to have your boy on their list next."
"Okay." What else could he say? Morgan was in danger, hence Nik having him in protective custody and the reason for his job. The nebulous "bad guys" were clearly intent on eliminating evidence trails with both Morgan and the cop.
"Oh and Nikolai? With the new data Dale is providing, there is evidence of a definite link to the Bullen family."
Organized crime, Nik thought immediately, not good, really not good.
Ops continued, "There are some back links to the Bullen campaign for governor. The FBI's Organized Crime Unit is making noises about having Morgan back under their auspices—"
"Not going to happen," Nik growled.
"Which is what Jake said you would say, so the feds got the message." Jake, as owner and director of Sanctuary, was always one hundred percent behind his operatives. Nik didn't even begin to question the anxiety that coiled in him at the thought of Morgan being taken from his control. She ended the call with an assurance Dale's reports were copied to Morgan's master file and a brusque goodbye.
For a while he stood where he had ended up, the office in the attic, as naked as the day he was born, looking out of the barred window to the water beyond. The FBI wanted Morgan back? That wasn't going to happen any time soon, not if Dale was convinced a single fed was somehow touched with the stain of organized crime or linked to the corruption that tainted the Bullen campaign for governor. Bullen, the eldest son of an eldest son, was the stuff of newspaper front pages. In his fifties, rich, and clever, he'd been backed to rise as far as it was possible to rise in the murky world of politics. Rumor had him connected to the dirtier side of the Bullen family. There was nothing more than unsubstantiated anecdotes by people who had dealt with the Bullens. No one would come forward with anything concrete, but the rumours and the anonymous tips were enough to have the man watched.
He wasn't sure why his first thought was to feel sorry for Morgan or why it made him so sad to see the man who had gotten so under his skin involved in this shit. From being in the wrong place at the wrong time to ending up in the ass-end of nowhere wasn't exactly a fair deal in life.
Strong hands slid around him, and Nik berated himself for not hearing Morgan climb the stairs. Morgan was still warm from bed, his hands strong and firm in their hold around his waist and across his stomach. Nik groaned inwardly as his dick showed an interest in the company of a sleepy Morgan.
"What did they say to you?"
"Nothing." Damn it, that wasn't what he meant to say. He leaned into Morgan's hold, the cell phone gripped tight in his hand. "And everything."
"Talk to me." Morgan's voice still held a half asleep grumble.
"There was an attempt on Gareth Headley's life in prison." Morgan didn't reply, and apart from his tightening his hold on Nik, it would seem he hadn't even heard. "I would lay twenty on the fact, with you still alive and able to testify against Gareth, they decided to get him out of the way instead." He moved out of Morgan's hold, turning to face him. "I need coffee." He looked at Morgan where he stood in sweats and little else. "And clothes. You put the coffee on."
Ten minutes later, dressed, warmer, and a little less rattled, Nik took his seat at the wooden table and sipped on the hot coffee. He knew he needed to explain more about what the hell was going on, but he wasn't sure he even knew where to start.
"I don't understand…" Morgan dropped into the chair beside him and leaned close. "I mean… I do understand why, but I don't see…" He huffed a small sound of resignation, a warm puff of air on Nik's shoulder.
Nik owed him some kind of explanation. Keeping his thoughts to himself and leaving Morgan in the dark wasn't the right thing to do.
"I'm guessing, and I haven't looked at Dale's report so this is conjecture from Ops. If you are removed from the picture then you can't testify against him and he walks free. Otherwise, and this could be easier for the perps, the cop dies so he can't talk. Full stop."
"He hasn't talked up to now."
"Maybe he thought he wouldn't need to cut a deal, if you were dead."
"And when they didn't succeed in killing me, he probably got scared. Maybe he even threatened to talk." Morgan sounded so matter-of-fact, and Nik watched carefully for any cracks in the calm accepting tone.
"Exactly," he stated. "Headley threatening to talk, and them failing to kill you, leads to a shiv in the stomach." Morgan winced, and Nik immediately regretted the harsh words.
"Is it what they did? Stabbed him in the gut?" Morgan dropped his hands and covered his own stomach. Nik contemplated softening it, lying, but at the end of the day, it was something better out than in.
"It's the usual way people get hurt in prison, an easy weapon—"
"Do they know who did it?" Morgan frowned as he asked the question. Nik could see the other man's thought processes clear as day written in the half scowl on his face.
"I don't know any more yet, but they'll send what they know when they can," he offered gently, and then aborted his attempt to grasp Morgan by the hand and reassure the man he was safe. He didn't want to pull this down to the level of attraction. The rest of their time together had to be bodyguard/client or nothing at all. Morgan stared into his coffee, and Nik wished he could hear what was going through the man's thoughts. He didn't have to wait for long. He had realized a few days before if Morgan thought something then he needed to verbalize it.
"What was the woman in the alleyway involved in for god's sake?"
And there was the million dollar question.
Chapter Ten
The day had been quiet. Morgan seemed lost in thought and had made himself comfortable on the jetty with sketch pad in hand. Nik had found some more pencils and even a child's tin of poster paints. Morgan had hoarded the treasures in a plastic box and had taken the whole lot outside with determination in his stride. He didn't appear to need company, and even after the physical stuff they had done the night before, Nik didn't feel like he should interrupt. He took out coffee at regular intervals and found ground beef at the back of the huge walk-in freezer. After cooking burgers, he watched from his usual spot between the two trees to make sure Morgan ate the food, trying to gauge how the other man felt.
Morgan probably had an awful lot to think about with the stark reminder of the death threat. He was sketching furiously on the pad with the colored pencils, every so often looking up to the sky. It gave the impression he wasn't drawing a still life image from what he could see but rather creating something from his own memories. Nik wanted to look, to crouch down next to Morgan and ask to see what had the younger man looking so intensely involved. On the other hand, Morgan was clearly engrossed, and when he was ready, he could certainly come over to Nik if he wanted to talk.
Nik found himself doing a lot of thinking also. That was the good thing about this job; when there was downtime, there was downtime. He had come close in his head to regretting what they had done last night, in the shower, in the bedroom, wondering if it really had been a good idea given the updated situation. It had been hot, intense and he'd never had such a responsive lover writhing under him or such a giving partner when the roles were reversed. Of course he would meet the first man to make everything seem easy in the middle of a murder trial. He shuffled the paperwork on his lap and connected to Ops via his satellite phone. The scrambled transmission was quick and to the point.
"How close is Dale to the core of this case?" he asked, watching as Morgan looked towards him at the sound of his voice.
"Close enough, and trial is still set for the fifteenth."
"I need to be doing something, financials to trawl through, evidence to sift, anything."
"We can do that, but—" She sighed, irritation in the sound. "—this isn't coming from me, Nikolai, Sanctuary brass is fighting this, but the feds are still pushing for Morgan to be returned to them and have demanded your position."
"If they—"
"They won't, and if there was anything, there would be a heads-up for you. We need you to keep the client on the down low, and if he thinks of anything pertaining to the case, we need to know."
"He didn't even know the woman in the alley, let alone have any idea why the cop killed her."
"We are aware of that."
"Morgan knows nothing else that can help."
"You appear convinced. Do you know something we don't, Nikolai?" Her voice had softened. He had a good relationship with Ops, and they generally listened to what his instincts told him. Thing is, every single one of them was also too damned intuitive, and if he opened his mouth to say any more, they would probably put two and two together and realize he had broken all the rules.
"No," he said simply. With a few last pieces of information and some new codes for the files, they ended the call.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, a flash of brown in the reeds at the edge of the water, and he realized it was an otter. He didn't move. It was closer to him than it was to Morgan, and all he wanted to do was call over and tell the other man. If he did that, it would swim off. Carefully he settled the papers to one side, and cautiously, quietly, he moved towards Morgan, who looked up at him when he sensed the approach.
"Look," he whispered and pointed where the otter had been. There wasn't anything there, and he squinted into the sun, trying to get a handle on any movement. Morgan stood and leaned into him so he could see, but there was nothing for him to see. Disappointment washed through Nik. He had never seen an otter in the wild, but when there was a quiet barely there "look" from Morgan, he saw the timid creature again, and for minutes, the two of them stood frozen, quietly watching. Morgan's hand slipped into his, the sun was high in the sky, the breeze was cooling, and there were only the gentle sounds of rippling water and the wind in the trees to break the absolute peace.
The otter raised its snout and scented the air, and then in a flash, it was under the water and away.
"Did you know there were otters here?" Nik said softly, not wanting to ruin the peace.
"I saw some evidence of it when I was in the lake yesterday." Nik didn't want to remember yesterday and the image of Morgan clambering up onto the grass, a wide grin on his face and water sheeting from him. Nik had been hard in seconds, and that was before he knew what the skin under the clothes tasted like. If Morgan went swimming this morning, he wasn't sure he would be able to keep himself from drooling.
"I've never seen an otter up close," Nik said softly.
"Neither have I, not actually in a lake, in its home."
Nik closed his arms around Morgan, allowing him to lean back, and they simply stood there looking out over the water, Nik imagining this huge network of whatever otters called their homes.
"What was the call about?"
Nik tensed; he should have known Morgan would ask.
He tried really hard to keep a normal tone. "Some tech stuff. Really nothing new."
"Okay." Morgan appeared happy to accept what he was saying, and in fact, he turned in Nik's arms and looped one hand around Nik's neck, pulling him down for a gentle kiss. Morgan asked for more with a touch of his tongue to the seam of Nik's lips, and Nik didn't have any defense, deepening the kiss on a sigh. When Morgan pulled back, he had a worried look on his face.
"I'm sorry I went all stupid and worried today. It's hard to make sense of how I feel about what I saw and what she may have been involved in. But I don't want to add to the stress levels around here."
"You were scared and seemed kind of sad. It makes sense to internalize it to get your thoughts straight."
"I'm still scared."
Nik simply buried his face into the juncture of Morgan's neck and shoulder, not trusting himself to tell Morgan that he was scared as well. Scared he would fail Morgan. Fail at this assignment. Morgan was slowly and surely showing him how things could be if only he let himself enjoy what was offered. It wasn't possible love was what they had so early on. Surely it was really a simple proximity-driven lust gentled with an ounce of affection. But this artist who sat and drew intricate scenes intrigued him. There was so much about Morgan Nik wanted to know and questions he needed to ask himself, not least of which was the thought that Morgan had been the thing missing from his life for far too long. He needed to get perspective.
Being with Morgan was a nice place to be, fun, and a break from real life for just a few days. The fear that clenched his stomach didn't necessarily mean what he felt couldn't be sustained past the trial. If the authorities told Morgan it wasn't safe to stay in New York State, then Morgan was right. He would probably have to move away. It was unlikely they would see each other again, let alone experience this passion they had for each other after the trial date.
"Want to go for a swim?" Morgan asked him for probably the hundredth time since they'd found the water. He thought briefly on the reasons why he couldn't swim and realized none of them mattered at the moment. They could go back and lock away the Glock. They could even search out swim shorts if they felt like it.
"Okay."
Once in the water, it became clear that swimming was really Morgan's thing, though Nik did give as good as he got. As he pointed out, he did come a close second in the race to the other side and back again. Neither worried about swim shorts, and the cold water kept things cooled. There was simply laughter and fun, and a moment Nik thought he might well remember for a long time.
Swimming led to kissing and, on the bank, groping, which resulted in a splinter in Nik's left butt cheek and his knee throbbing like a bitch. Together they limped and stumbled back to the cabin, and Nik entered the code for lockdown. He knew where this was heading.
"You should have said something if your knee was hurting. I climbed all over you."
"Yeah, which was nice," Nik teased, and Morgan punched him on the arm.
"Ass."
"It doesn't hurt much now, and even when it does, I'm used to it. I have meds; it'll be fine."
"And you say the splinter went…" Morgan couldn't seem to help the laugh that tumbled from him as he waved in the general area of Nik's backside.
"You can laugh, but it's you pulling it out." Morgan proceeded to help out, getting Nik to lean over the side of the sofa so he could finagle the offending piece of deck out of Nik's ass. But hell if the idiot could stop laughing as he did it.
"You going to stop laughing? Or do I have to make you stop?" Nik looked back over his shoulder to see Morgan stifle his laugh.
"Big bad bodyguard has an ouchy," Morgan sing-songed with a grin and a wicked gleam in his blue eyes. He took a step back, and the laughter that bubbled from him was uncontrolled and beautiful. He collapsed to the floor and lay back on the rug, and Nik followed him. His hands pinned, his legs caught between Nik's, Morgan started to laugh again.
Nik struggled not to join in. Morgan's laugh was so damn infectious, like a kid's giggle. Not only that, but in laughing Morgan had thrown his head back. His neck was exposed, laid bare, from throat to lips. Nik lowered his mouth and started to kiss. He concentrated on the pulse at the base of Morgan's throat, feeling it flutter against his cool lips. Darting out his tongue and tasting the taut skin, he listened as Morgan's laughter turned slowly to soft whimpers and whispers of his name… Nikolai, Nik.
Nik started to explore higher, kiss-biting a path up the side of Morgan's neck, shifting his body slightly as his hard dick pressed against Morgan's, so fucking turned on for this man imprisoned under him. He didn't let go of Morgan's hands as he pushed down, aligning himself, desperate to make a memory with Morgan today.
He could feel Morgan hot and hard against him, and he moved subtly, pushing his own sex against the younger man's, reaching up to swallow Morgan's resulting groan with an open-mouthed kiss. He swallowed his name from Morgan's lips, tongues meeting, tasting, hard and insistent, slanting his head to reach deeper inside. Releasing Morgan's hands, he felt them instantly move to dig deep into his hair, pulling and twisting into the damp length of it. Morgan was arching up into the kiss. Nik heard himself groan, pushing up and away slightly, not taking his lips from Morgan's, just reaching between them to palm Morgan's dick. Morgan groaned and whimpered into Nik's mouth, wrenching his lips away to say one word, "Please." The sound was caught somewhere between a plea and a demand.
Nik didn't hesitate, didn't argue. He pulled their dicks together in one hand, hot, heavy, hard, twisting, and captured Morgan's mouth in a kiss that stole Nik's breath. They moved unevenly, desperately, intent on only one thing. A singular twist of Morgan's hips against Nik's hand, and Morgan was lost, shouting his completion and arching so hard he smacked his head back on the floor. Nik felt the tension, the iron grip, the release, the heat, the intensity of Morgan's bliss and fell over the edge himself, hot against the writhing man.
They stayed still, breathing hard, neither moving to break the intense hold the experience had created until Morgan twisted a leg, using momentum and surprise to push Nik onto his back and lean over him to capture his kiss-bitten lips with a soft touch.
"It wasn't a very big splinter, you know," he murmured. Laughter was creeping back into his voice.
"It was a plank," Nik said in defense.
"We need to get up off of the floor."
"No, Morgan. We don't."
Chapter Eleven
This time the call happened at 8:07 in the morning, and when Nik stretched to reach the phone, he realized Morgan wasn't in bed with him. He answered the call and swung his feet to the floor, stretching his muscles and yawning widely. Instinct had him glancing at the windows and seeing them locked and barred. At least Morgan had kept lockdown in place.
"Hey," he responded to a wide awake operative who got straight to the point.
