Beyond the Blue, page 18
Under any other circumstance, Mei would’ve put a regretful stop to this and confronted Morgan about her ill-timed declaration, but the day’s emotions welled up inside her and she couldn’t deny Morgan this moment. With the blood in her brain rushing south, Mei lacked the sense to respond or give it more thought. She got busy unbuttoning Morgan’s slacks and digging out her button-down shirt. Reaching between them, she slid her own hand into Morgan’s briefs, but got denied as Morgan used her free hand to grab Mei’s and pin it to the pillow behind her.
She kissed the sliver of cleavage exposed above Mei’s dress, then bit the flesh and gave it an exploratory suck. Locking eyes, she paused as Mei cupped the back of Morgan’s head and pushed her closer. Taking it as an enthusiastic yes, Morgan bit her harder and suckled aggressively, purpling the skin beneath her lips. Mei yelped and gasped, her insides tightening in pleasure. Morgan must’ve felt her walls pulling in on her fingers because she lifted her head and kissed Mei deeply.
“That’s right,” she panted against Mei’s parted lips. “Come for me, baby.”
And dear god if that demand wasn’t the most arousing thing Mei ever heard. She crashed into her second climax, her entire body taut and shuddering as Morgan took her time slowing down, still penetrating Mei with long, deliberate movements. Morgan was totally in control of her and Mei didn’t mind one bit. This assertive, dominant Morgan matched the fierce, wild feeling inside Mei’s chest.
With that in mind she wriggled her wrist from where Morgan pinned her and upon release she promptly returned her hand between Morgan’s legs. Inebriated on a cocktail of gin and ardor, Mei touched an unplumbed depth inside herself, full of dominion and passion. She could not process the weight of these feelings and focused the energy on her lover hovered above her in desperate search of release. Eyes shut, Morgan rolled her hips against Mei’s hand, and Mei caressed the side of her cheek.
She kept her voice as gentle as her touch. “Look at me.”
Compliant, Morgan opened her eyes and Mei stared in wonder, enamored, as if her feelings suddenly materialized between them. Leaning up, Mei placed a feather-soft kiss on Morgan’s lips and Morgan came completely undone. She kissed her through the intense orgasm, sharing her breaths and stifling her cries. Morgan rolled over, flopping beside Mei and panting heavily.
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” Still not yet capable of rational thought, Mei focused on catching her breath. “Wow.”
“I should dance with other women more often.”
Mei snickered halfheartedly, but she couldn’t ignore the heaviness in the room. Coming down from this rush of adrenaline felt different than the other times they’d made love. A shift occurred. A chasm, an ache; a yearning for the woman lying beside her. What existed here was more than belly swoops.
After a few moments of recovery Morgan sat up, unbuttoning her shirt. Though Mei hadn’t planned on staying the night, she undressed as well. Shimmying out of her dress, Mei caught Morgan staring at her with a slacked jaw. Self-conscious, she held her arms over her middle and glanced away. No matter how many times Morgan stared at her like she was desirable, the feeling never quite permeated. Shuffling across the bed on her knees, Morgan beckoned her forward and pulled her in for a hug. “Stay with me?”
Peering down, Mei smiled softly at Morgan’s face gazing up at her, eyes glassy but earnest. “I couldn’t leave you if I tried.”
“Mm, good,” Morgan replied, placing soft, sleepy kisses across Mei’s ribs. “Don’t try.”
Chapter Thirteen
When Morgan suggested apple picking as her birthday activity, she did so assuming Mei knew what it was. However, the look on Mei’s face as they parked in the dirt lot outside the grove and bought a burlap sack from a smiling farmer, made it hilariously apparent she’d never set foot in an orchard. However, since it was her birthday this week, Morgan got to drag Ruiz, Reyna, and Mei to her favorite fall activity. At the very least, they got a nice day for it. The sky a dazzling, cloudless blue, the temperature stayed brisk enough to only need a light jacket.
As Morgan scaled a tree in pursuit of the perfect apple, Mei questioned her friends from below. “Is this…this is a thing she does?”
“Every year,” Ruiz replied. “She’s always chasing these childhood experiences she was deprived of, and the apple picking is her favorite.”
“And she insists on climbing the trees in spite of all the signage asking very politely that she not,” Reyna mused.
“That sign is for children,” Morgan called down from between the branches. “I’m not going to break anything. I need this apple that got the sun on all sides. It’s so red and shiny.”
The tree, not built for the weight of a full-grown person, shook from Morgan’s efforts. “Darling, I wish you’d come down. There are perfectly good apples within reaching distance.”
With a quick snap, Morgan held her hand up in victory. “Got it!” Leaves quivered and all at once a loud crack echoed through the orchard. “Uh-oh.”
God, she hated when they were right. She crashed out of the tree, landing rather unceremoniously on a pile of discarded, rotten apples with a squishy thump. Wincing, she opened her eyes to Mei presumably scanning her for injuries. Morgan thrust the apple at her and grinned. “Saved it.”
Plucking the apple from her hand, Mei rolled her eyes and put it in their bag. She helped Morgan off the ground, brushing away the bits of apple flesh stuck to the back of her tartan flannel. “Was that worth it?”
“We’ll see,” Morgan replied cheerfully, taking the bag from Mei and throwing her arm around her shoulders. Following Ruiz and Reyna down the worn path between the trees, they paused every so often to pull another apple off a tree. Near the end of apple picking season, mid-October, the trees bore less fruit than the ground, but Morgan hadn’t taken any time off since the wedding so they seized the opportunity to get out in the fresh air.
However, as pleasing as the day shaped up to be, Morgan retained a tiny nugget of anxiety in her heart. Their relationship had deepened considerably in the weeks since Ruiz’s wedding. Mei was less reserved with her affection, and spoke more openly about her feelings, finally catching up to how Morgan felt months ago. So, she had hope her most recent request would at least be considered.
“So, listen. What do you do for Thanksgiving in your family?”
Mei turned, tilting her head. “Where did that come from?”
“It’s the next big holiday, besides Halloween. Which I, as a rule, do not celebrate.” Most of the police forced shared Morgan’s anti-Halloween stance due to the absurd level of civilian hijinks and petty crime that occurred on Halloween. Morgan ritually took the day off to hand out candy to trick-or-treaters, and often volunteered for night shifts to relieve overworked cops. “Just figured I’d ask.”
Mei stepped to the side to pluck a ripe apple and plunk it into Morgan’s open bag. She put herself back within reach and Morgan slid her arm around her waist as they walked. “Grace took over most holiday duties. Thanksgiving isn’t big for us—Allan was a fan, but the rest of us could take it or leave it. We usually do a low-key dinner at her place.”
“Okay. Well, um, Thanksgiving is pretty much the only time I see my biological father, so that’s what I do.”
Stopping in her tracks, Mei pulled Morgan toward her by the shirt. “I didn’t know you were in contact with him.”
“I am,” Morgan admitted, digging her boot into the dirt. “It’s…tentative. Over the past fifteen years he’s sort of reinvented himself. Sobered up, got a job, got married, had some kids. We text occasionally.”
“You have siblings?” Mei asked, eyebrows shooting up.
“Half siblings, yes. Three of them—six, seven, eight. Samuel, Hailey, and Olivia.” While Morgan kept her tone light, her anxiety increased. “He contacted me about ten years ago and asked to see me. We went to lunch and I agreed to keep in distant contact. After he starting having kids I said I’d have Thanksgiving with them. I normally spent it alone, so. I guess it’s better?”
In reality, it was a mixed bag. Being lonely on holidays didn’t start with her mother’s death; Charlotte worked most holidays and disappeared for others. Part of her envied the warm, soft family holidays she imagined most people celebrated. The other part of her learned to enjoy the solitude. Or at least, give the convincing impression she enjoyed it.
“What about Christmas?”
“Hmm?” Morgan walked off to pick another apple, placing it in the nearly overflowing burlap sack. “Oh. I take a vacation somewhere new each year. If I don’t do that, I work. Lots of overtime on Christmas and it’s better for people with real families to be off.”
Inwardly, Morgan winced at the pity in Mei’s eyes. “You don’t have anyone to spend it with?”
“People offer. My biological father asked a few times. Ruiz offers every year—her family is big on Christmas. Mrs. Vern, my upstairs neighbor? She’s Jewish, but even she’s asked me over. Their intentions are good, but it makes me feel like this pitiful orphan people drag to their celebrations.”
“I understand,” Mei replied. “I felt that way after Allan died and I got invited to weddings and parties and it felt like…his absence was bigger than my presence.”
“Exactly, yeah. I like Christmas parties. Those are fun. You know, wearing ugly sweaters and playing drinking games or whatever. But a real Christmas, a tree-and-presents Christmas…it’s awkward. I end up either getting aggressively coddled by Ruiz’s tías or alone in a corner talking to someone’s cat. There is no in-between.”
Stepping into her space, Mei ran her fingers through Morgan’s hair, sliding her hand down to settle a comforting palm on her chest. “Would you like me to go with you to your biological father’s home on Thanksgiving?”
“Would you really? I don’t want to take you from your family, but it would be much more bearable with you.”
“Sure. I’d be happy to spend Thanksgiving with you.” Morgan beamed, bending down to peck a kiss on her lips. “Now, would this be a good time to give you your birthday present?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Perhaps. I hoped it would be a closed-door affair with you in my bed wearing only a strategically placed bow.”
Blushing profusely, Mei eyed the family in the path across from theirs. While their relationship moved along nicely, Mei’s level of comfort being publicly out hadn’t yet caught up with her devotion. “We can discuss that later. But, no, a regular, publicly appropriate birthday gift.”
Shrugging, Morgan adjusted the bag in her arms. “All I wanted was to spend time with you. And get a donut.”
“Right, you talked about the donut a lot on the way here,” Mei replied. “I do wish you’d have allowed me to get you something more substantial.” Digging in her purse, Mei withdrew a palm-sized brown paper bag, folded over once. “I respected your wishes in regard to gift wrap.”
“It’s wasteful.” Morgan put down the apples and dug inside the bag, pulling out a fridge magnet with her name and a picture of the Brachiosaurus from the museum printed on it. Her eyes lit up. “Is this from the gift shop?”
“Yes. They sell a lot of things with names on it, but I felt this was the best one.” She tapped on the magnet. “It’s Brad.”
“It is Brad.” Her favorite dinosaur, bought from the gift shop she was never allowed to step foot in. The incredibly considerate gift nearly melted Morgan into the ground. “You’re so thoughtful. I love it. Thank you.”
Mei smiled, tipping up to press a short, sweet kiss on Morgan’s lips. “You’re welcome. Happy birthday, darling.”
“Ladies,” Ruiz called, clearing her throat. “Can we please pay for these godforsaken manzanas and get the hell out of here? There are bees everywhere and they’re starting to get on my nerves.”
Morgan scoffed. “This is their house, Anna-Maria. You’re the trespasser stealing their fruit. The bees are our friends.”
“Okay, tell your friends I don’t even like apples, I only come because you would look very pathetic picking apples on your own,” Ruiz replied. “Now, vamanos.”
“Fine, but I have to stop at the farm stand on the way out because I need fresh cider and donuts.”
“Donuts? Plural?” Mei asked as they tailed Ruiz and Reyna out of the orchard and back toward the cashiers. “How many donuts do you ‘need?’”
“Well, you need at least a dozen to get you through the week. Plus one for the ride home. So, a baker’s dozen should do,” Morgan reasoned matter-of-factly. “And a gallon of fresh cider.”
“You know, you wouldn’t have to work out as much or as often if you ate less junk.”
“I like working out,” Morgan said. “And, if I’m not mistaken, you like that I work out too. You’ve bought many front-row tickets to the gun show.”
Ahead of them, Reyna erupted into laughter and Ruiz glared over her shoulder. “Never say that again or I will arrest you.”
“Arrest me for what? I have a license for these guns,” Morgan bragged, aiming her biceps and flexing toward Ruiz. “She’s jealous I can lift more than her. So competitive.”
“I am acutely aware of how much weight you can lift.”
With a cheeky smile, Morgan waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I’m happy to demonstrate that with you whenever you want.” Before Mei could respond, Morgan sniffed in the air like a bloodhound. Her hand shot out and stopped Mei in her tracks. “The donuts. They’re near.”
Just over the orchard ridge stood a nondescript farm stand cobbled together from old planks: the sanctuary of donuts and cider. Morgan pawned off the bag of apples to Ruiz. “What the hell, Kelly?”
“You are buying my apples because it’s my birthday,” Morgan replied, “and I’m heading straight to Donut Town.”
“You’re a dork,” Ruiz replied, hefting the bag onto the cashier’s table. She looked at Mei. “Your girlfriend is a dork.”
But Mei merely smiled at her, eyes shimmering with tenderness. “Yeah, she is. Go get your donuts, darling.”
Later that night, Morgan insisted they not cook, so they drove to Yumel to pick up dinner. Greeted by the familiar gust of warm air and spices, they stepped inside the cozy restaurant to the tune of bells jangling above their heads.
“Mei-Mei!”
Morgan smirked. After she and Mei frequented their restaurant more often together, Meltem and Yusuf became both aware and loudly supportive of their relationship. Whether she wanted to be or not, Mei was now “part of the family,” which included an unsolicited nickname. “Hello, Meltem.”
“Happy birthday, Morgana!” Excitedly rushing to her, Meltem grabbed her by the cheeks and squished them together, kissing her soundly on the forehead. “My beautiful little girl growing up.”
“I’m thirty-five,” Morgan replied quietly.
Meltem ignored her, playfully slapping her cheeks in an affectionate gesture. “I have your order all ready. One moment.”
As Meltem shuffled away, she caught Mei’s impish grin widening. “Don’t even, or I’ll tell her when your birthday is, too, Mei-Mei.”
Within moments Meltem scurried out of the kitchen with two large shopping bags that would easily fit a microwave in each of them. Unsurprisingly, they held enough food to feed around a dozen people. “That is more than I ordered.”
Meltem held up the bags with great cheer. “For birthday!”
Taking the bags from her, Morgan smiled as she inspected the wares. “You’re always too kind to me, Meltem. Thank you.”
“Never too kind,” Meltem said with a firm shake of her head. “Nothing is too much for my kahraman. My hero.”
“I’m no such thing.” Morgan pivoted to Mei. “I used to check in every once in a while on my beat, that’s all.”
Her attempt to circumvent Meltem’s storytelling failed miserably and the woman huffed in affront. “Check in? You did not ‘check in.’ Morgana stopped two men robbing us.”
Mei gasped under her breath. “Morgana did what?”
“She did not tell you?” Both women glared at Morgan accusingly, like she’d withheld a large secret. On principle Morgan did not bore people with conversations about her job as an officer; she shared with Mei the emotional aspects of a case, or the logistical details, but never the physical violence or the danger. “Many years ago, we were open late and two men storm in here. Masks over their heads, both of them with guns. They demand all the money in the register. Yusuf told me to go in the back, so I did. I hear them, these men, threatening my Yusuf if he did not get the money faster.”
“Oh my god.” Mei gasped, her hand on her chest. “That’s awful.”
“It was scary. Some people, they are not kind to immigrants. They think we are stupid, or that we don’t deserve the restaurant, that we steal. These men, they said very nasty things to my Yusuf.” The memory visibly upset Meltem and she looked away, taking a moment to settle her emotions. It hurt Morgan’s heart, recalling the fright in the eyes of these wonderful people, and her anger upon hearing the robbers disparage them.
“I called the police and Morgana come in less than one minute.”
“Alone?”
“Yes, alone.”
Morgan sighed, then clarified. “I radioed for backup then responded to the call.”
“She pull her gun out and tell the men to lie down on the floor. They tell her they will kill Yusuf if she shoot her gun. Morgana put her gun on the floor, and now I am thinking she is not a very smart person. But she talks to the men, tells them they haven’t taken any money yet, so they are not robbers. She says so far it’s a misdemeanor. If they put down their weapons and surrender, she will tell her boss to give them the lowest charge.”
Turning, Mei looked as if she were just seeing Morgan for the first time, her eyes full of admiration and fear. Truth be told, Morgan didn’t talk about the robbery because she thought she was going to die. It marked the first time anyone pulled a gun on her, and while it happened several times after, the first time was always the worst.
