Unleashed (The Elliott Brothers #2)

Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

“ D on’t even fucking tell me,” Erika snapped as soon as I walked through the door.

I froze mid-step. “Tell you what?”

“You’ve got that just-fucked look on your face.” Her voice dripped with accusation. “You went to him, didn’t you?”

“Went to who?” I asked, pulling off my coat and grabbing a hanger from the closet. The heat of her stare seared into the back of my head.

“Slade,” she spat. “What did he use this time? Chocolate cake?”

My shoulders tensed. Of course, she called it. I winced. “Yes, I had dinner with him, but we needed to talk.”

“Right. And fuck.” She tossed the bridal magazine she'd been flipping through onto the coffee table with a thud. “Christ, Morgan, I told you to stand strong. What about Michael?”

I kicked off my black heels and spun around to face her. “What about Michael?”

Erika’s eyes narrowed, sharp and unforgiving. “Are you stringing him along?”

“No!” I shot back, voice rising. “I would never?—”

“Then what are you doing?” She cut me off, standing now, her hands on her hips. “Because from where I’m sitting, that’s exactly what it looks like. The man is in love with you, Morgan.”

“Lower your voice!” I hissed, glancing toward the hallway.

She crossed her arms. “Lincoln won’t be home for another hour. He’s at a client dinner. I’ve got time.”

“A client dinner? On a Friday?” I shook my head. “Sounds like Slade.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t you dare compare the two. Lincoln’s nothing like Slade.”

“Erika, what is this?” I asked, my voice quieter now, pleading. “Why are you attacking me?”

“Because I’m sick of watching you make bad decisions,” she said, her tone laced with disappointment. “I’ve stood by you, but I can’t keep doing it if you don’t start getting your shit together.”

“That’s not fair!” I snapped, feeling the sting of her words. “You’re just siding with Michael because you’re team Michael.”

Her jaw tightened. “You think this is about Michael? I’m team Morgan. I want what’s best for you.”

“And you think Michael’s best for me?” I threw back at her, incredulous.

“Better than Slade. He won’t turn into a controlling asshole,” she said, folding her arms tighter.

I scoffed. “You don’t know him like I do. Michael has his own demons. He can be cold, distant...”

“He’s fighting for you!” Erika cut in, her voice sharp. “That’s more than Slade ever did.”

I stared at her, chest heaving. “Why are you pushing for Michael all of a sudden?”

She hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I didn’t want to say this, but you need to know. Michael’s thinking about moving to Europe.”

The floor felt like it dropped from beneath me. “What?” My voice cracked. “He can’t. He... he promised to wait.”

Erika's expression softened, but only slightly. “He has waited. But it’s too hard for him to be around you, knowing you’re still tangled up with Slade.”

“But he’s not around me,” I whispered, my throat tightening.

“And that’s the point, Morgan,” Erika said quietly, stepping closer. “He’s trying to protect himself. He’s hurting.”

I shook my head, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me like never before. “I can’t...”

Erika's face hardened again. “I never thought I’d say this, but you disappoint me.”

Her words struck like a slap. I stood there, stunned, as she turned and walked down the hall toward her bedroom. The sting of unshed tears burned behind my eyes.

Erika had always been my fiercest supporter, but now... now I had to face the truth. I was hurting the people I cared about, and I was running out of time. Both Slade and Michael deserved to know where my heart truly lay—if I even knew myself.

But I couldn’t stand there forever. I had to make a choice.

“You told me you were waiting,” Slade’s voice cracked, a rare moment of vulnerability breaking through his usually composed exterior.

I stood in his office, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. “I decided it has to be now. My head’s a mess, Slade. I need this.”

He rose from behind his desk, arms outstretched like he was about to gather me up, but I stepped back, creating distance between us. His expression fell, confusion settling into a deep frown.

“So now I can’t even touch you?” His voice was tight, strained.

“It’s better if you don’t.” I held up a hand, avoiding his gaze. “I need to do this, and I need you to accept it.”

Slade let out a heavy breath, raking a hand through his dark hair. “I accept it, Morgan. But I worry about you. I love you, and that’s not going to change.”

“Then love me enough to let me figure this out on my own.” My voice wavered, but I stood firm. “Let me think.”

“Am I losing you?” His words were barely above a whisper.

I shook my head, not ready to face that question. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then when?” he asked, eyes searching mine, desperate for something I couldn’t give him.

“Tomorrow,” I replied, steadying my voice. “I went to the apartment earlier and packed my backpack. I’m stopping by REI this afternoon to pick up a few supplies.”

Slade took a step closer, his eyes softening. “I can’t convince you to wait?”

“No.” I shook my head again, stepping back. “I’ll be fine.”

“Morgan…” His voice was raw, pleading. “I need you to be safe. Despite everything, you’re my first priority. Always have been.”

“I won’t be gone long,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “Maybe a week or two, tops.”

He exhaled, running a hand down his face. “Are you at least done with your project?”

“Yes. I came in early this morning and finished it. The plans are with the contractor now.”

Slade’s eyes flickered with something I couldn’t quite read. “I hope you know I need you back, not just because you’re my best engineer.”

I forced a smile. “Bullshit. You’ve got plenty better than me.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t. Not like you.”

“Slade…” I sighed, the weight of his words pressing into me. “You don’t need me.”

“I need you more than you know,” he said softly, his voice full of meaning. “In every way. Stop saying I don’t.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of what I was about to do crushing me. “I’m sorry. I need to leave early.”

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “One last kiss?”

I hesitated, knowing where this would lead, but I gave in. His lips met mine with a hunger that matched the desperation between us. The kiss was deep, slow, and bittersweet, as if we both knew it might be the last for a long time. His knuckles brushed tenderly against my cheek as he pulled away, lingering in the moment.

“Come back to me, Morgan. Be safe.”

“I will.” My voice cracked as I backed out of his office, my heart heavy with guilt.

I retreated to my own office, shutting down my laptop and gathering my things. The decision to leave weighed heavily on me, and I knew Erika was right—I couldn’t keep stringing both men along. They deserved better. I needed to make my choice.

After straightening my desk, I turned off the lights and locked the door behind me. I had to face Michael next. He’d been spending more time working from home, according to Lincoln, and I hoped I would catch him there.

The cab ride to his apartment left me with a pit in my stomach, the kind of nervous energy that made it hard to breathe. By the time I stepped into the elevator, I thought I might lose my breakfast. Even after taking several deep breaths, my hands shook as I knocked on his door.

Michael answered, surprise flickering across his face. “Morgan,” he said, his voice low. “What a surprise. Can I help you with something?”

He stood there, casually dressed in a pair of well-fitted jeans that framed his thighs, his tight gray shirt showing off the strong muscles of his chest. I swallowed hard, my resolve wavering.

“I have something to say,” I said, stepping inside before I could change my mind.

He studied me for a moment, then shut the door behind us. “I figured. Want a drink?”

“No, thank you.” I paced the room, nerves tightening every muscle. “Erika told me you’re thinking about moving?”

Michael’s jaw tightened. He looked away, swallowing hard. “So, Lincoln sent you to convince me not to go?”

“No,” I snapped, tossing my purse and coat on the countertop. “I came here because I needed to hear it from you. You were just going to leave without talking to me?”

I crossed to the fridge, yanked the door open, and grabbed a bottle of sparkling water, twisting the cap off. I chugged half of it before I could even catch my breath, the tension between us crackling in the air.

Michael smirked, leaning back against the counter. “Make yourself at home.”

“I’m thirsty,” I muttered, wiping my mouth. I leaned against the counter, feeling like I might collapse. “You weren’t even going to tell me, were you?”

“What do you want me to say, Morgan?” he asked, his voice low, measured. “I thought distance might be easier for both of us.”

“I want you to stay,” I said, meeting his gaze head-on. “At least until I come back.”

His brow furrowed. “Come back? You’re leaving?”

“I’m going hiking,” I explained, crossing my arms. “I need to clear my head.”

Michael sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shit, Morgan, it’s still cold out. Why would you go hiking in the cold?”

“You sound just like Slade,” I shot back. “I’ve hiked in worse. I’m not some novice, Michael.”

His eyes darkened as he stalked toward me, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” I said softly, but my voice lacked conviction.

He reached for the bottle in my hand, setting it on the counter, and before I could react, he pulled me into a searing kiss. His lips crashed against mine, full of heat and frustration. My knees buckled as I melted into him, fingers tangling in his hair. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer, and for a moment, all the confusion and doubt disappeared. Just the two of us, tangled in the storm of emotions we couldn’t control.

When he broke away, his lips hovered near my ear.

“Morgan, don’t go,” Michael whispered, his voice hushed, almost pleading.

My heart twisted, but I forced myself to stay strong. “I have to, Michael. I can’t make this decision without space.”

He cupped my face gently, searching my eyes. “So, there’s still a chance for me? I still have a chance?”

I couldn’t deny it. “There always was. You just didn’t wait long enough for me to make it last time. I’m so torn.”

His grip on my face tightened just a fraction. “Then let me have you one more time. I miss you in my bed.”

A small laugh bubbled up before I could stop it. “Your bed? Is that what you call the couch, the counter, the floor?”

His lips curved into a crooked smile. “Doesn’t matter where. I just want you. Now.”

I stared at him, knowing what I was about to do was reckless. Dangerous. But I didn’t care. Not in this moment. “Yes,” I murmured.

Michael’s eyes darkened, hunger flashing in them. He swooped down, his lips barely brushing mine. “Yes?”

“I’ll share your bed, but I won’t stay. I’m still leaving tomorrow.”

Before I could say more, he scooped me up in his arms, holding me tight as he carried me toward his bedroom. I ran my fingers through the thick hair at the nape of his neck, letting them trail down to the hard muscles in his shoulders, savoring the feel of him beneath my hands.

He set me down by the bed, his breath hot against my skin. “You won’t forget me after this, Morgan. I’ll make sure of it.”

My heart pounded as I whispered, “I could never forget you.”

Michael’s hands worked slowly, teasingly, as he undressed me. His lips followed every piece of fabric he removed, leaving a trail of heated kisses. When he reached my breasts, he sucked and nipped at them, low growls rumbling from his throat. I gasped, the sensation making my knees weak.

He moved lower, kneeling in front of me to slide my pants and thong down my hips in one smooth motion. His eyes flicked up to mine, a devilish grin on his lips. “Blood red,” he muttered.

“What?” I asked, my voice shaky.

“Your thong. Sometimes I think you’re the devil in disguise.”

I let out a breathy laugh, but it was cut short when his tongue flicked across my swollen clit. My head snapped back as a loud moan escaped my lips, my grip tightening on his hair. He did it again, sending shockwaves through my body.

“Enough, gorgeous,” I panted, tugging his hair to pull him back.

Michael stood, helping me out of my pants completely before laying me down on the bed. He tore his own clothes off, giving me a full view of his body—his chiseled chest, the hard lines of his muscles, and the impressive length of his cock as he stroked it slowly, precum already pooling at the tip.

“Ohhh,” I moaned softly, biting my lip.

His grin was wicked. “Miss Kincaid, if I remember correctly, you loved to suck me.”

“I did,” I whispered, “and I still do. Let me taste you.”

His smile widened, but he shook his head. “No. Tonight is about you. Spread your legs.”

“Michael—” I started, but he cut me off.

“Don’t argue with me. Spread them. Now.”

A thrill shot through me, heat pooling in my belly as I obeyed, opening my legs for him. He climbed onto the bed, his gaze never leaving mine as he lowered himself between my thighs. His tongue flicked against me, making me gasp as pleasure coursed through my body. He worked me relentlessly, his tongue teasing me to the brink of climax.

Just as I was about to fall over the edge, he pulled back. “Would you like me to fuck you now?” he asked, his voice low, filled with promise.

I blinked, momentarily dazed. His face was inches from mine, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. “You’re asking?” I asked, breathless.

“Would you prefer I just take you like a Neanderthal? Fuck you so hard you scream?”

“Yes, please,” I breathed, my pulse racing.

Michael caged my body, his strong arms on either side of me as he positioned himself at my entrance. I could feel the heat of him, the hard length of his cock pressing against me. I wiggled my hips, desperate for more.

“I want you, Morgan. It’s been too long,” he whispered, his lips brushing mine before he slowly pushed inside.

For a moment, everything felt perfect. But then it hit me. “Oh God, Michael, stop.”

His eyes widened in panic as he stilled. “What? What did I do?”

“You’re not wearing a condom.”

“Fuck,” he growled, pulling out quickly. He reached for the nightstand, fumbling to find one. In seconds, he tore open the wrapper and sheathed himself. “Better?”

I nodded, trying to calm my racing thoughts. “Yes. I’m fine. Make love to me.”

Michael slipped back inside me, but the connection wasn’t the same. I wanted him—no, I needed him—to touch me without anything between us. His gaze locked onto mine, his blue eyes dark with desire as he thrust into me, but my mind was elsewhere.

“Morgan,” he rasped, his voice filled with emotion, “I wish you were all mine.”

I closed my eyes, letting his words wash over me as I drowned in the sensation of him. But deep down, I knew the truth—I wasn’t his, and I couldn’t be. Not yet.

"Don’t ruin this," I warned, my voice a quiet plea as I straddled him, feeling the tension crackle between us like a live wire.

"I’m sorry, but I love you with all my heart. Is that so bad to say?" Michael's voice was raw, his ice-blue eyes locked on mine, full of unguarded vulnerability.

I closed my eyes, trying to escape the weight of his words, the guilt clawing at me. I knew this was wrong—what we were doing—but my body betrayed me, craving the connection. Focusing on the sensation of our bodies moving together, I began to adjust my rhythm. The slow rise and fall of my hips were met by his steady thrusts, rolling into me with perfect precision.

"Michael..." I gasped, my body tightening as I teetered on the edge.

He matched my pace effortlessly, his breathing ragged. "God, you feel so good," he growled, gripping my hips as we collided in a fierce rhythm, our shared climax so intense it left me breathless, the sharp pang of pleasure mixed with the ache of knowing this could be the last time.

He groaned, his voice hoarse as he spilled into the condom, his body shaking above me. "Christ," he panted, lowering himself onto me, his lips trailing soft, reverent kisses along my neck. "That... that was everything."

I threaded my fingers through his damp hair, stroking his back, my touch gentle as I traced the lines of his muscles. For a moment, I let myself feel the comfort of him, of us, but I knew this couldn’t last. "I promise... I’ll have a decision when I get back," I whispered, my voice trembling.

Michael pulled back slightly, just enough to look into my eyes. "I know this isn’t the right time to say it, but I’ll be devastated if it isn’t me."

"Don’t make me cry," I whispered, blinking back the tears threatening to spill.

"It’s the truth." His fingers brushed my cheek, tender but insistent. "I can’t stay here if I can’t have you, Morgan. I can’t be in the same city, watching you with someone else."

"Thank you for putting that weight on me," I muttered, the words sharp even as I tried to keep my voice steady.

He eased off of me, slipping out with a soft groan, and for a second, I thought he’d pull away completely. But instead, he settled beside me, propping his head up with one hand, his other lazily tracing circles around my nipple. The intimacy felt both tender and suffocating.

"I don’t want to pressure you," he said softly, his gaze heavy with meaning. "But that’s how I feel."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, shifting away from him. I couldn’t stay wrapped in this warmth any longer—it would make leaving unbearable. "I need to go if I’m going to leave tomorrow," I said, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

"Are you sure?" His voice was soft, tinged with a sadness I didn’t want to face.

"Yes," I murmured, standing to gather my clothes. I didn’t dare look at him, knowing the sight of his face would break me. I could already feel his gaze following my every move, making the air feel thick with unspoken words.

Michael slid out of bed, his body a graceful shadow in the dim light. He came up behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist, his fading erection pressing gently against me as he placed a lingering kiss on my shoulder. "I’ll miss you," he whispered, his lips brushing my skin.

I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the warmth of his embrace, but I couldn’t let it linger. He released me, disappearing into the bathroom to discard the condom. When he returned, I was nearly dressed, my heart heavy as I glanced at him, leaning against the doorframe like a marble statue, watching me with a mix of longing and resignation.

"I have to go," I said, my voice thick.

"One last kiss," he murmured, stepping toward me, his hand cupping my cheek.

I didn’t resist as he pressed his lips to mine, soft and slow, as if trying to etch the memory of this moment into my skin. When he pulled away, he gently smoothed my tousled hair. "Don’t stay away too long. I’ll be waiting for you."

"I know," I whispered, my heart aching. "I’ll talk to you soon."

Without another word, I turned and left the room. His final "I love you" echoed after me, but I didn’t look back. I grabbed my purse and coat from the counter, pulling the door shut behind me as if sealing off everything we’d shared.

In the elevator, I finally allowed myself to breathe, shrugging into my coat as the weight of Michael’s words settled over me like a heavy cloak. He didn’t follow me, and for that, I was grateful. I couldn’t handle any more of his pleading, not when my heart was already torn in two.