Page 71 of Under Her

But it’s not just the sex. It’s her.

Her smart mouth and even smarter mind. Those warm smiles and gorgeous eyes.

I want Morgan. All the time.

How the hell am I only just realizing this now?

It’s not just my cock that’s been obsessed with her.

All of me is obsessed with her.

My head and my heart.

I’m crazy about her.

I glance back at our table, and I see Morgan is there. But she’s not sitting, waiting for me. She’s on her feet, staring at me, and she looks…angry.

I push off the bar and walk over to her. “Hey, what’s—”

I don’t get the rest of the words out because she slaps me so hard, the sound rings through the bar.

“Jesus Christ!” My hand goes to my stinging cheek. “What the fuck was that for?”

Livid, liquid chocolate eyes meet mine. She shakes her hand out, rubbing it with the other. “That,” she says in a scary-ass, breathing-fire voice, “was for all the times you’ve made me feel like shit.”

Then, she picks her bag up and storms out of the restaurant.

But I’m not done with her. Not by a fucking long shot.

I catch her out on the street, grabbing hold of her arm. “Oh no, you don’t. You don’t get to slap me and then run off. I want to know what the hell just happened.”

“Why don’t you just fuck off and go find your girlfriend? ’Cause I’m not interested.”

“My girlfriend?” I stare at her, feeling like I’ve just stepped into an alternate universe. “Are you high right now?”

Her eyes narrow like lasers. And my reflexes are a little faster this time, and I catch her flying hand.

“Stop fucking hitting me,” I hiss at her. “And start talking some sense to me, so I know what the fuck is going on.”

She tries to free her arm from my hand, but no way am I letting go so that she can try to smack me again.

“I saw you…and the redhead. She kissed you—”

“On the cheek!”

“Clearly, you know her. And we’ve only been here a handful of days. So, you must know her well enough for her to feel like she can kiss you on the cheek. And knowing how you get to know women…well, I shouldn’t be surprised, should I? You screwed her. Then, you sweet-talked me. Oh, I admire you, Morgan. You never take my bullshit. I like you. Blah, blah, blah! And I fucking believed you! Like the gullible idiot that I am.

“God, I was actually going to let you kiss me! And then you’re kissing her, probably making plans to meet her later! Ugh, I’m so stupid! What were you going to do, Wilder? Try to get in my pants, and if you didn’t succeed, go for round two with her? Or maybe you just planned on doing us both in the same night! Jesus! Why am I always so fucking stupid when it comes to you?”

I grab her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “I didn’t fuck Audrey. The closest I’ve ever been to her was that kiss on the cheek that she gave me. I didn’t kiss her; she kissed me.”

“Well, she clearly felt comfortable kissing you,” she snaps.

“She was thanking me.” My voice is harsh, but I’m frustrated. She just doesn’t seem to be hearing a fucking word I’m saying. “I met her at the hotel bar the first night we arrived here. She recently got divorced, she was feeling lonely, and she propositioned me.”

Morgan barks out a laugh. “Of course she did. And I bet you had a lot of fun with her.”

Jesus, the venom in her eyes. I’ve never seen her like this before.