Craving Morgan

By Jennifer Becker

Morgan broke up with Jameson almost a year ago because he chose his career over her. Now she is being hunted by a man and her ex, Jameson Weston, claims only he can protect her. Morgan doesn't want or need his help but Jameson refuses to leave her alone. She thought she was over him, but she can't help but feel that flame burning between them no matter how hard she tries to resist.
Jameson tries to compartmentalize his feelings for Morgan and treat her like any other case, but he can't ignore the love he feels for her. It doesn't matter she left him a year ago, his love for her never dimmed. And the longer he is with her, the more he feels the spark that is still between them threaten to ignite.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publishdrive
• Release date: Sep 26, 2023

Book preview

Chapter 1

Morgan remained silent on the drive from the police station to her apartment. Jameson, her ex and a pain in the ass detective, had insisted on driving her—despite all of her protesting. That didn’t mean she had to speak to him on the drive though. 

She had nothing to say to him. They hadn’t had anything to say to each other in a year. He hadn’t cared about her since she’d walked out on him. She hadn’t heard from him until Brooklyn, her best friend, witnessed her boss being murdered—well, thrown over a balcony to land in the parking lot…semantics. Her first thought had been for Brooklyn to get to Jameson.

Morgan hadn’t been in town to help her, so she’d suggested Brooklyn go to Jameson’s precinct. He may have been a shitty boyfriend, but he was a hell of a cop. If anyone could keep Brooklyn alive and safe, it was him. Jameson was a highly decorated detective for the Billings Police Department.

He had checked in with her a few times to let her know Brooklyn was safe, but he’d never disclosed where she was. It had sucked not talking to her best friend. They were used to talking every day. She hated not knowing where Jameson had stashed her or who with. Even Brooklyn wouldn’t tell her where she had been, though Morgan had put two and two together when Brooklyn confessed that she had fallen in love with Drake, Jameson’s brother, and was going to alter her time between the city and a cabin in the woods.

It sounded horrible to her, but whatever made Brooklyn happy.

Now Brooklyn was back, and Morgan’s kidnapper and Brooklyn’s would-be attacker was caught. Life could get back to normal, and Morgan could go back to ignoring Jameson.

Just a few more minutes left in his company, then they could go back to pretending the other didn’t exist. 

Morgan stared out the window of Jameson’s car as she watched the houses go by. It was well past dark, and the only light was the occasional streetlamp and light from a neighbor’s porch.

Not that she needed light to know where she was. She had lived here for several years. Morgan had fallen in love with the neighborhood when she and Brooklyn had driven past it while in college. As soon as they could afford it, they’d moved off campus and found an apartment. Brooklyn had since moved out, but Morgan stayed. She had no reason to leave.

Her work was conveniently within walking distance—she hadn’t planned that but wasn’t going to complain. Shops and anything else she needed were located nearby.

The apartment was nestled around older homes and mature trees that provided shade in the heat of summer. Morgan loved the historic feel here. There was even a park down the way that she walked through sometimes just to get out of the office.

She was an estate agent, so she could work from anywhere except when needed for a showing. She had already called her boss and explained why she hadn’t been at work for the past few days. Well, glossed over it. He didn’t need all of the details. 

Morgan informed him that she had extended her stay in Florida to visit her brother because he’d gotten mysteriously ill. Gary, her boss, had suggested she take an extra few days off and come back next week. Morgan had declined. She didn’t want time off. She didn’t want to dwell on what happened, but she had learned from it.

She would be more aware of her surroundings from now on, but she wasn’t going to start adding extra locks to her doors. Nor hide under her covers fearing someone would come for her. Morgan wasn’t the hide-and-cower kind of woman. One thing she planned on doing tomorrow was getting pepper spray.

She wasn’t a fan of weapons and didn’t want to have to carry one around and hope she didn’t hurt herself while trying to protect herself in the process. Pepper spray seemed a good alternative. It was small enough that she could discreetly hide it in her purse. 

Jameson pulled up to the curb in front of her building. Morgan was anxious to get inside. She was just anxious to get away from him. Too many memories. Too much water under the bridge between them. 

Thanks for the ride, she mumbled and opened her door. 

Wait.

She didn’t. She heard Jameson curse and get out of his side and jog around to hers. She kept going up her stairs, Jameson matching her steps. What? she asked, stopping just outside the building. Jameson almost bumped into her from her sudden stop, but he backpedaled to keep a reasonable distance between them. Smart man.

I’m coming in with you, he said as if it should be evident. Not to her, it wasn’t. 

No, you’re not. If he tried some ‘you’re a delicate flower’ bullshit, she just might have to punch him. He knew her inside and out. He knew there wasn’t a delicate bone in her six-foot body. She may be lean, but a stiff wind wouldn’t knock her over.

Morg, I just want to walk you up to your door and make sure you arrive safely.

The man could be as stubborn and pigheaded as she was. Another reason they hadn’t been right for each other. Neither would ever admit when they were wrong.

Fine. The sooner she got this over with, the better. 

She unlocked the door and led the way up to her third-floor apartment. It was just left of the stairs with a view of the street. 

Many might complain about that since it was on a road which meant hearing traffic, but the walls were sturdy and the glass thick so she didn’t hear anything.

She unlocked her door and let it swing wide open so he could see inside. Her place was neat and organized as she’d left it. She was a minimalist, and the apartment was compact. You could see everything but the bedroom and bathroom.

See? As you can see, no one is waiting inside. The apartment is fine, I’m fine. Unless you feel the need to check under the bed for the boogeyman? she quipped, folding her arms across her ample chest, glaring at him. 

I’m good, he replied dryly. Jameson was used to her snarky attitude, and it didn’t faze him. Which sucked because he wasn’t getting her hint she wanted him to leave.

Well, she wasn’t going to stand here all night in her doorway. You can leave now.

Not just yet, He stood on the threshold, his eyes scanning every nook and cranny he could see from where he was standing.

What do you want now? She couldn’t keep the exasperation out of her voice. It had been a long day and all she wanted to do was put her feet up, pour a glass of wine, and pass out. She didn’t have the energy to deal with her ex right now. 

May I come in? 

No, she replied firmly. She refused to let him step one foot inside her house. 

Morg, please. He dropped the cop tone and sounded more pleading. 

His ‘please’ got her attention. Jameson never asked. Jameson never begged. She wouldn’t let it sway her though. She had to keep her heart as hard as granite when it came to

him. Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile.

Please what?

I’m trying here. His tone turned more sorrowful. 

Trying what, my patience? Well, congratulations, you succeeded. She smiled sweetly at him, not buying his good cop attitude. He was just doing it to get his way, and she wasn’t going to let him.

I want us to be civil.

Morgan rolled her eyes. They hadn’t spoken to each other in a year. After one week of a conversation, he thought they could just…what, start over as if nothing happened? So not happening. She needed to nip this in the bud quickly. We’re broken up. We don’t have to be anything. In fact, I insist we go back to the way things were before Brooklyn’s hiding out.

She preferred them not speaking or seeing each other. Life had been perfect. There was no reason to change that now. 

I thought we were making headway between us. He cocked his head as his eyes searched her face. You sent Brooklyn to me. That must mean something. We’ve spoken more in the past week than we have in a year. He took a step closer to her. The tantalizing scent of his body wash teased her nose. It was spicy and all male. She used to love laying draped over his chest after they made love and just breathe in his scent. I know there’s something still between us, Morg. He looked down at her with those sad puppy dog eyes. The crystalline blue trying to pull her into their depths. Never again.

Morgan stepped back further into her apartment, her hand resting on the edge of the door ready to slam it in his face. That’s where you’re wrong. Look, I appreciate you helping me out, though I didn’t need it. She felt the necessity to add the last part. Her bindings had already been off when Jameson had come for her. She had been about to escape when he’d swooped in acting like he’d saved the day. I don’t need a knight in shining armor to come to my rescue. She was more than capable of rescuing herself as she’d proved today.

Jameson reared back as if slapped. I know that.

Good. You saw that I’m fine. Your duty is done. She spat out the word duty as if it were poison. To her it was. Jameson’s life was dedicated to the force. And where had that left her? Forgotten. Too many mornings she’d woken up and he still wasn’t home. Too many missed dinners because he was working a case. He’d forgotten her birthday. She’d finally gotten tired of waiting around for him. It had taken him several days to realize she’d moved her few things from his apartment back home.

He’d called once, but she’d never called him back, and he never tried to get in touch with her again. The only reason he’d talked to her so much recently was because she’d sent Brooklyn to him for help. Because of her, Morgan had gotten kidnapped—not that she blamed Brooklyn for that. It was Lawry’s fault that happened to use her as collateral to get Brooklyn to come out of hiding. Jameson felt it was his duty to watch over her now. An obligation.

She wanted nothing to do with that.

It’s not duty why I’m here. I thought we could be friends. He spread his hands wide and shrugged his shoulders as if it were a suggestion.

Friends? With her ex? Yeah, and in what world did that ever work out? Even if it did, she didn’t want to be his friend. I have all the friends I need.

You have one, Brooklyn.

That’s all I need. And all she wanted.

What about when she moves in with Drake? Or they spend more time elsewhere and less time here. How about when they start having kids? You don’t want to be the third wheel forever.

No, but she didn’t have to admit that to him. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. Brooklyn would start to drift away from her. It was only natural. Drake was the

forever kind of guy, but that didn’t mean she would disappear from Morgan’s life. 

Brooklyn would never abandon me, unlike some. Morgan took another step back and closed the door. Jameson didn’t try and stop her this time. She rested her head against the door feeling her shoulders slump. The weight of the past few days caught up with her. She sank to her knees and gave into the turmoil that had been plaguing her. 

She’d had to be strong the past few days to keep her wits about her. Now she was home. Safe. The barrier could come down, just for a few moments. 

Hot salty tears streamed down her face. She worried Jameson still stood on the other side of the door and didn’t want him to witness her weakness, so she covered her mouth to stifle her cries as she purged her pain, fear, and sadness from her body. 

Chapter 2

Jameson stood under the oak tree across from Morgan’s apartment building watching her lights go out. He could envision her in her bed. The queen-size bed with a wooden frame and pink and white flower duvet. The only thing feminine in her house, otherwise she preferred neutral colors.

He knew the layout of the building and her apartment like the back of his hand. He’d spent more time there than in his own apartment. Well, until his caseload had grown. Then he’d spent most of his time at the precinct. 

           His solved-case record was near flawless. Other teams consulted him, even other precincts. He was one of the most sought-after detectives. 

He had thought his home life was going just as well until one day when he’d come home and Morgan’s things had been gone. She hadn’t even left a note. He’d tried calling and texting her, but she never got back to him. 

Okay, so things at home had been far from perfect. A few times he had forgotten to check in and stayed at the office, but that was no reason to leave him. 

Regardless, another case had come up and before he knew it, it had been over a month since he’d last spoken to her. By that point, he figured she didn’t want to speak to him, so he moved on. He buried himself in his work after that. Even more so than before. He didn’t have a reason to come home after that. Nothing was waiting for him there but his bed. He’d learned to get catnaps at his desk chair, and it was pretty comfortable once he bought a new one that leaned back. The precinct was close to several food stops. He had everything he needed right there. 

He had been shocked when Brooklyn had shown up at his precinct at Morgan’s insistence. He had assumed she’d washed her hands of him. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about her