An Unlikely Match (The Match Series - Book #1) (14 page)

“Something wrong in that?”
Morgan turned her into his arms.

Her entire body sighed with contentment. There was definitely something about this man that made her feel at ease.

“The president couldn’t give a damn who gets the bit parts and minor roles. Tell me you know a casting director, and maybe we’ll talk.”

Morgan chuckled low.

She tipped her head back. “How’re you doing?”

He shrugged.
“About how I expected.”

“
There are an awful lot of women looking at you and wondering who that hunk could possibly be.”

He shook his head. “Amelia, you’re trying to
o hard. I appreciate the effort, but I’m still me, and they’re still them, and nerdiness is not the new hot.”

“
Nerdiness is too the new hot.”

“You are
such
a cheerleader.”

“And you are such a genius.” She gave
in to the impulse to stroke her hand across his cheek. “If they knew you, they’d like you.”

She meant it with all her heart. Morgan was an amazing man. There wasn’t a
single guy here who could hold a candle to him.

His voice went husky. “If I forget to tell you later, thanks for doing this. Your
heart is in the right place, and your acting skills are phenomenal. I predict nothing but success in your future.”

“I’m having fun,” she reminded him.

It may have had an unorthodox beginning, but this was turning into one of the best dates of her life.

“
The crazy thing is that you are.” His tone was nothing short of amazed.

“You would be
, too, if you’d just relax.”

“I’m having fun dancing.”

“Good. Let’s keep dancing.”

They swayed their way through
many more songs, with Amelia in a haze of near-hypnotic happiness. She wished the DJ would play forever, because she had no desire to ever leave Morgan’s arms.

But too soon,
the DJ announced the last dance. And when the music died away, and she looked around, she realized the crowd had thinned considerably.

“Ready
to go?” Morgan asked her.

“I guess.” She didn’t feel tired. She felt jazzed. She was sorry Morgan hadn’t had a good time, but she didn’t want the evening to end.

“We can get a nightcap,” he suggested. “There are some nice decks with a view of the river.”

She seized on the suggestion.
“Sounds good to me.”

He nodded his agreement, and t
hey made their way back to the lobby.

“I’d like to get rid of this jacket and tie,”
he said as they approached the elevators. “Do you want to change?”

Amelia
caught a glimpse of Nina and Chad leaving through the main doors. She nodded toward the other woman. “I’d like to say goodbye to Nina, if you don’t mind. Meet me out front?”

“Sure.”

While Morgan went for the elevator, Amelia hurried down the short marble staircase, past the fountain, through the revolving glass door, glancing both ways on the front sidewalk.

She spotted Nina and Chad in the taxi lineup.

“Well, well, well,” came Rudy’s unwelcome voice. He moved in front of her, blocking her way. “Leaving the party all alone, are you?”

“We’re going out for a drink.”

Rudy made a show of glancing around. “Where’s the other half of we?”

Amelia flattened her lips. She didn’t owe Rudy or anyone else an explanation.

He ran his fingers down her bare arm.

“Hey!” She jerked away.

“I knew you were too good to be true.”

“Keep your hands to yourself.”

“I said to Chad, there’s no way Morgan gets a date like that unless he’s paying her by the hour.”

“
Go to hell,” she told him, stepping out to go around him.

He reached out to grab her arm.

“I’d rather go to heaven. I bet a girl like you could take me to heaven.”

She tried to wrench her arm away, but he held her tight.

His tone turned to a growl. “How much would you charge, baby, to take me to heaven?”

A split second later, he was on his back
on the sidewalk, Morgan bending over him, his hand firmly gripping Rudy’s collar. “What the
fuck
did you just say?”

“
Sir?” Two of the valets rushed forward as the small crowd turned to gape.

“He accosted my girlfriend,” Morgan ground out, his focus never leaving
Rudy.

“Rudy?”
came his date’s high-pitched voice through the small crowd. “Rudy?”

“Apologize,” Morgan demanded.

“We all know she’s not your girlfriend,” Rudy stated, with only a slight quiver to his voice.

Amelia was frozen in place.

“Apologize,” Morgan repeated, tightening his grip on Rudy’s collar. “Or I swear to God, I’ll break your nose.”

Rudy glared at him a moment longer
, but then apparently saw something menacing in Morgan’s eyes, because his attention moved to Amelia.

“I’m sorry,” he told her.
“If I misunderstood anything.”

“You did,” she responded.

“Apologize for laying a hand on her,” Morgan ordered.

“Sir?” repeated the valet. “We’re going to have to call the police.”

“Now,” Morgan said to Rudy.

Rudy complied. “I’m sorry I put a hand on you.”

Morgan jerked away, standing up.

While Rudy scrambled to his feet to be comforted by his girlfriend, Morgan wrapped an arm around Amelia’s shoulders, turning her away and heading for the street.

“What was
that
?” Amelia asked him, glancing back to see Rudy dusting off his suit.

“That was an asshole behaving like an asshole.”

“I meant you putting him on the ground like that. It was slick, and it was lightning fast.”

“
Shotokan Karate,” Morgan answered. “It’s the first time I’ve used it in real life.”

“I didn’t even see you coming.”

“That’s the idea.”

“I mean,
bam
, there you were. And he was on his back. And, wow, really, wow.”

“He deserved it.”

“No kidding, he deserved it. He accused me of being a hooker. Seriously, a hooker? He wanted to hire me.” She stopped and turned back. “I should probably tell his girlfriend that he’s into hookers.”

Morgan firmly spun her around. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not? She needs to know.”

“If she’s foolish enough to date that guy in the first place, I doubt anything you say will make a difference.”

“My God, he’s a jerk.” Amelia still couldn’t believe it had actually happened.

“Yes, he is,”
Morgan agreed as they came to a stop at the corner, waiting for the light.

“Don’t you ever
dare
care about that man’s opinion again. You’re twice the person he is, and he deserves to live out his pathetic, little life deluding himself that he’s worth something, without a single thought from you.”

“Don’t hold back
on your opinion,” Morgan drawled.

Amelia stopped herself. “
You should have seen the look on his face.” The memory reminded her of how hard Morgan had thrown him. “Are you okay?”

“How do you mean?”

“You’re not hurt or anything? Your hands?” She reached down to lift his hands under the streetlights.

“No, I’m not hurt.
I could use that nightcap.”

“
Where are we going?”

“Your choice.”
He pointed to the other side of the street. “Anatola’s has a great view and the best margaritas in the city.”

“Sold.”

The light changed, and they made their way toward Anatola’s, taking a staircase up two floors to the deck. A hostess showed them to a table by the rail, where they could hear the sound of the river below and the wind rustling through the aspen trees. Morgan ordered two lime margaritas and a platter of nachos.

“I assume you’re hungry by now,” he explained as the waitress departed.

“I’m hungry,” she confirmed. “And what about you? So, you’re a karate master as well as being a genius.”

“I’m nowhere near to being a karate master.”

“Do you have a black belt?” She didn’t know much about the martial arts, but she thought that was how people were ranked on their accomplishments.

“I have a black belt. But that doesn’t mean a lot. Your first black belt is really
just a license to learn.”

“Do you only have your first black belt?”

“I’m still learning.”

“That was a well-crafted answer.”

“It’s the truth. Enough about me. Have you had any auditions since Monday?”

Amelia blew out a sigh as the waitress set down their margaritas. “I did.
One on Tuesday and another on Thursday.”

“How’
d they go?”

“Same
ol’, same ol’ at this point. I’m beginning to hate the inscrutable expressions on casting directors’ faces.”

“I guess they have to disappoint a lot of people for every one they make happy.”

“I’m guessing about a thousand to one.” She hoped she wasn’t destined to always be in the thousand.

“
It doesn’t seem like a very efficient system to me.”

“That’s what agents are for. They narrow down the field.”

“You should get an agent.”

Amelia couldn’t help but laugh. “Agents are harder to get than parts.”

His expression turned reflective. “Well, you did a terrific job acting like my girlfriend. I’ll give you a good reference.”

She kept her smile in place, but she didn’
t know how to respond. She hadn’t been acting tonight.

Morgan raised his margarita glass into the silence.
“To the
end
of the evening, failure that it was.”

She raised her own glass
, touching the salted rim to his. “It wasn’t a failure.”

“Ha,” he scoffed.

“You’re a pretty good dancer, and you really kicked some ass there at the end.”

“
I let my emotions get the best of me.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”
She paused. “Thanks, Morgan.”

“Don’t mention it.” He put his glass to his lips.

She took a drink as well.

“Just do me a favor,
” he said.

“Anything.”

“When my twentieth comes around, can we please just go to a movie?”

“Sure.” As she gazed into his eyes, s
omething shimmered deep down in her stomach. Would she know Morgan in ten years? Would she still see Morgan in ten years?

One thing she knew for sure, she wasn’t ready to stop seeing him tonight.

On the way down the hall to their rooms on the seventh floor, Amelia made up her mind to get a kiss goodnight. She didn’t care how obvious she had to be. In fact, maybe she’d just grab him and plant one on his lips. Hinting around
hadn’t worked very well for her so far.

They
came to their hotel room doors, seven-twenty-two and seven-twenty-three, directly across the hall from each other. She stopped and turned. He turned to face her.

“
I had a great time tonight, Morgan.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

She eased in, hoping he’d take the hint. “What about you?”

“It had its moments,” he
agreed, but with obvious reluctance.

She tipped her chin up, tilting her head. “
Dancing was fun.”

“
It was,” he breathed, eyes going opaque. But he didn’t bend down, didn’t take her in his arms.

She was about to grab the front of his shirt and drag him into it, but a better plan popped into her mind.

“Morgan?”

“Hmmm?”

“Those chocolate almonds in the minibar?”

He blinked. “What?”

“I ate all of mine earlier.” She glanced meaningfully at his closed door. “I was wondering...”

“You want my minibar almonds?”

“If you don’t mind. I’m a little hungry.”

He grinned, fishing
in his shirt pocket. “You’re always hungry.”

“I have a
very fast metabolism.”

He extracted the key card. “Lucky thing for you, or you’d have to give up ballet for
weightlifting.”

She struggled not to grin at her genius as he turned to unlock the door. Truth was, she had no idea if the minibars held chocolate almonds or not. She was bluffing here.

“Come on in,” he offered as he pushed open the door and moved inside. “My minibar is your minibar.”

“
Thanks, Morgan.”

The door clicked shut behind her.

“Don’t mention—”

She grasped his shirtfront and came up on her toes, planting a
firm kiss on his lips.

“What the—
”

“I changed my mind,” she muttered against his mouth. “I’
m hungry for a kiss goodnight.”

“Amelia, you don’t—
”

She kissed him again, longer this time, softening and parting her lips, anchoring her hands on his broad shoulders.
She moved her body to his, and his arms encircled her waist. He drew her against his body, taking control of the kiss, sweeping his tongue inside her mouth.

Finally,
finally
, she was getting somewhere.

His arms were strong
as they held her. His taste was sweet in her mouth. And she was surrounded by his scent, his very essence. As the kiss dragged on, she felt as if her insides were melting. Her arms automatically tightened around her neck, while her nipples hardened against the broad heat of his chest.

She wanted to feel more. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, slick and wet. She wanted to see him naked, for him to see her. She wanted to throw caution out the window
and tumble into his bed.

“Amelia,” he breathed, stroking one hand over her hair.

She thrilled to the sensation.

The
n his hand came to rest on her bare shoulder, squeezing it gently, before the pads of his fingers swirled their way toward her neck. He kissed her there, urging her head back, the heat of his mouth branding its way back along her collarbone. Her arousal intensified, swift and insistent, lifting her on a rosy haze of hormones.

She waited for him to move to her breasts, to push off the dress
and palm her aching nipples, or pull them into his hot mouth.

She groaned at the
very thought.

The sound brought him back to her lips. He kissed her again, which was nice, which was fantastic, but it wasn’t getting her where she wanted to go.

She reached for the front of his shirt, popping the top button.

His hand closed over hers, stopping her.

Okay, this was ridiculous. Chivalry was one thing, but surely the man wasn’t made of stone. “You know what would be perfect?” she whispered to him.

“You’re perfect,” he growled.

“A perfect end to your high school experience?”

“
We’re not in high school.”

“Making
love with the head cheerleader.”

He abruptly jerked away, gaping down at her. “What?”

He had to have heard her. But, just in case, she repeated herself—though it didn’t have quite the same feel with him staring down at her like she’d grown two heads. “Making love with the head cheerleader.”

He took a step back. “Is
that
what this is?”

She was completely baffled.
“What did you
think
this was?”

“
Pity sex?” he barked. “You’re offering me
pity sex
?”

Okay, baffled was gone. Now she was
angry. What the hell was his problem?

She marched two steps forward, poking her finger against his chest. “First of a
ll, buddy. How dare you accuse me of offering you pity sex? I don’t do pity sex.”

His expression faltered.

But she wasn’t finished. “Second, are you a complete idiot?”

She paused for an answer, but he didn’t give her one.

“For a genius, you are really frickin’ stupid. I’m not acting here. I haven’t been
acting
for hours. You’re compassionate, Morgan. You’re funny. You’re smart. And you are hands-down, no-holds-barred
hot
. You’re like this super guy who’s been in disguise all this time. You knocked a jerk flat for me tonight. You cook for me. You listen to my problems. You give me advice. You bought me a dress and flew me halfway across the state.”

“You really don’t need to breathe
when you talk, do you?”

“
Shut up,” she practically shouted. “I’ve been throwing myself at you for two weeks. If you don’t want me, tell me. But you kiss me like you want me. You hug me like you want me.”

“I want you.”

She stopped. She blinked.

“I want you,” he repeated,
tone firm as he snaked an arm around the small of her back and dipped his head.

A
split second later, his lips met hers in a cataclysmic kiss. They were hot and firm, moist and parted. His tongue plunged into her ready mouth, even as his strong arms wrapped around her waist, dragging her tight against him.

She
hugged him in return, giving in to the power of their embrace. In response, he lifted her from the floor, straight up so they were the same height. His arms shifted and settled beneath her rear, and she reflexively wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing her skirt to bunch up at her thighs as the kiss went on. Her thin panties rubbed against his slacks, sensations raw and exquisite between them.

She could feel his arousal, hot and firm against her sensitive flesh. She arched her back, trying to get closer.

“We have to slow this down,” he rasped.

“Why?” Who wanted to slow it down?

“I want it to be good for you.”

It was already good for her.
It was borderline fantastic for her. She was the last person they needed to worry about.

“What’s good for you, Morgan? What do you want?”

His tone turned to a growl. “To rip that thousand-dollar dress from your body.”

His words rocked
her back. “You paid a thousand dollars for this dress?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Like that was going to happen. “Maybe we should use the zipper.”

He
chuckled. “Okay.”

He turned, perching her on
the edge of the telephone desk. Then his expression softened. His hand moved to her face, palm cradling her cheek. He bent his head to kiss her slowly, with infinite care.

Th
rough the hormones raging within her, she told herself to be patient. They had all night. Well, at least they had what was left of the night. It was nearly two a.m., and their flight took off at eight. Which didn’t really leave all that much time.

She squirmed under his excruciatingly thorough kisses. “I meant now, Morgan.”

He lifted his head
, looking dazed. “Huh?”

“
My zipper. Now.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled
in obvious amusement, even as he reached around her back. “Oh, Amelia, you just get better and better.”

He slid the zipper to the small of her back.

She pushed the single strap of gold lace off her shoulder. “Let’s hope that trend holds.”

Then s
he let the fabric whisper down, shimmying out and tossing the dress to a nearby chair. He stared at her strapless bra and white lace panties, still and silent for a long moment.

“
The trend holds,” he finally whispered.

She wasn’t shy or insecure.
But the compliment warmed her. She wanted to be beautiful for him.

He braced his hands on either side of
the wooden desk. He kissed the tip of her shoulder, slowly making his way toward her neck, to her cheek, and across to her lips. He stroked his hands through her hair, then bracketed her face and deepened his kiss.

Arousal
pulsed strong and steady from the core of her body out to the tips of her fingers and toes. She arched toward him, plucking at the buttons of his shirt, baring his chest to touch his skin against hers.

“You feel so good,” she groaned, sliding her hands over his
pecs, up to his broad shoulders. He was tougher than she’d imagined, more defined, more masculine. She wound her arms around his neck, tightening to fuse them more closely together.

“I’m nothing compared to you.”

“You’re everything, Morgan.”

He kissed her deeply, one hand moving to her back, flicking the clasp of her bra so that it fell away.
His hand closed over her breast, and she nearly melted at the sensation. This was Morgan. He was touching her. He was kissing her. Her fantasy had finally come to life.

Her nerve endings scrambled into a group, and
her movements became impatient. She reached for the front of his slacks, popping the button, pushing the zipper out of the way.

He grasped her panties, stripping them down her legs and tossing them away. She yanked down his pants then pulled him
close. When he finally pushed against her, she held her breath, savoring every millisecond as they fused together.

“This is so good,” he rasped in her ear.

His fingers tangled in her hair. He kissed her hard and deep. And it got even better. His hand scooped beneath her, tilting her to him, holding her steady as he increased his rhythm.

Colors swirled wildly in her brain. Her toes curled in, while h
er hands tightened on his biceps. Sharp pulses grew where their bodies joined, growing bolder, swirling out to electrify her skin.

“Morgan,” she gasped.
“Please.”

“Now?” he rumbled.

She couldn’t answer. She was incapable of speech. Sound rushed past her ears, and she squeezed him harder, desperately seeking an anchor.

“Now?” he repeated.

She gave an inarticulate whimper.

“I’m going to take that as a yes.”

He sped their movements until she was gasping for air. Her nerves shimmered on the precipice, higher, then higher, then higher still.

“Amelia!”

She spun completely out of control, catapulting over the edge of reason, as waves of pure ecstasy washed over her, one after the other. Her body tensed, then floated, then finally fell limp. If it wasn’t for Morgan’s arms around her, she might have melted into a puddle on the desktop.

His breathing was ragged
as he stroked his palms up and down her slick back. He kissed her temple, then her hair, then her ear. “We didn’t—” he gasped.

It took her a few breaths before she could s
peak. “Well, I sure did.”

He ch
uckled, and she felt the rumble all through her body. “We didn’t make it to the bed,” he clarified.

“Was that the plan?”

“It was my plan.”

“So, you’re a
bed-sex kind of guy?”

“What’s a
bed-sex kind of guy?”

She drew back. “It’s not a euphemism
, Morgan. I mean a guy who has sex in a bed.”

He
gave a helpless shrug. “I guess I am.”