The Family Feud: The Family Feud / Stop The Wedding?!. Carol Finch
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to Kendra’s place. He needed to get a grip. Unfortunately, visions of Sonny grabbing Janna by her shirt and dragging her across the table kept triggering his protective instincts. He’d wanted to punch Sonny in the chops. Then he’d wanted to kick himself in the keister when he’d ogled Janna’s beer-drenched blouse that exposed the full swell of her breasts and beaded nipples. To top it off, he’d felt the vicious urge to peel a strip off Eddie Pender’s hide when he swatted Janna’s fanny. Damn, jumbles of emotions were surging through him with Janna’s name attached.
Morgan cut Kendra another glance, surveying her long, shapely legs and the passion-pink dress that accentuated her curvaceous figure. By anyone’s standards Kendra was a knockout, but she didn’t do a thing for him, even when she’d been rubbing against him and slobbering on his neck. All he’d felt was resentment. If not for Kendra’s wild escapade to get revenge, Janna wouldn’t smell like a brewery and wouldn’t have gotten her butt patted by a local joker who hung out at Goober Pea Tavern.
And why on earth had Morgan leaned down to kiss Janna, right there in the parking lot? He had no idea. Maybe he wanted her to know that Kendra’s breathy kisses had no effect whatsoever on him. Maybe he wanted to stake his claim after Eddie and Sonny put their hands on her.
“Don’t get attached or involved,” Morgan chanted during the short drive. “It’s a dead-end street if ever there was one.”
Excellent advice—too bad he forgot it the moment Janna climbed from the car and his headlights flooded over that clingy knit shirt, curvy jean-clad hips and glinted off that flaming chestnut hair. Damn…
Morgan sighed heavily as he walked around the truck to haul Kendra off the seat. He was ready for this evening to end. His forbidden attraction to Janna and the incident at the bar had him all worked up. He needed to sleep on his sensible advice and wake up with a clear head.
He glanced down at Kendra’s limp form and grinned wryly. He was sincerely glad he wouldn’t have Kendra’s head in the morning.
“Right this way.” Janna motioned him into the apartment bedroom.
Morgan watched Janna turn down the sheets—his gaze glued to her shapely derriere—then he deposited Kendra on her bed.
“Should I undress her, do you think?” Janna asked. “I haven’t spent much time around drunks so I don’t know the standard procedure.”
“Take off her shoes and cover her up,” Morgan instructed. “The first rule of thumb is not to cater to, or pamper, drunks. They get what they’ve got coming so don’t waste much sympathy on them.”
Janna chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip. “Maybe I should stay with her in case she gets sick. She might need me.”
“No,” Morgan contradicted. “You need your rest. Kendra brought this on herself. On rare occasions when I’ve drunk myself unconscious, I don’t want anyone around when I wake up.”
“You’re sure?” Her worried gaze lingered on her sister’s wan face.
“You wanna come back to my place, drink my bottle of wine and find out for yourself?” he asked, grinning. “Hangovers are hellish, believe me.”
“No, I guess I’ll take your word for it.” Still, she hesitated, never taking her sympathetic gaze off Kendra.
Although Morgan admired Janna’s concern for her foolish sister it was getting late. “I thought you wanted to speak to your dad tonight.”
Janna sighed audibly as she cast another glance at Kendra. “I do, but I don’t know if I can take knowing my dad and your mom might’ve been—”
When she slammed her mouth shut, Morgan smiled compassionately. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been through that before…wondering…”
“Parents,” she muttered. “And they think their kids drive them crazy?”
“Amen to that,” he seconded.
Janna’s attention swung back to Kendra. “You’ve told me all the reasons I shouldn’t stay with Keni, but I’d feel better if I were here.”
Morgan opened his mouth to object, but his brain hit the skids when Janna pushed up on tiptoe to graze his lips in a soft, tormentingly sweet kiss.
“Thanks for all your help,” she whispered.
At that precise moment, for reasons that utterly defeated him, he knew he couldn’t let it go with that one wispy kiss. At least a hundred times he’d played that deep, searing kiss of long ago over in his mind. He wanted to know if the jolt he’d received way back when was as titillating as he remembered. He didn’t wait to see if Janna would accept or reject him, just hooked his arm around her trim waist, pulled her up his torso until her feet were dangling in midair and he claimed her mouth.
Devoured her was more like it, he realized. The velvety texture of her lips lured him in. In less than a heartbeat he was plundering the soft recesses of her mouth with his tongue, pressing her body into his masculine contours—which had turned hard and aching in record time. Desire hit him so hard so fast that his head twirled like a pinwheel. Kissing Janna was everything he remembered—and then some. This experience had turned highly combustible in two seconds flat and he couldn’t get enough of her!
Morgan wasn’t sure where his next breath would come from and he didn’t care because he was pretty sure he could survive on the pure unadulterated pleasure coiling inside him. He tried to ease his grasp on Janna, but his arms developed a will of their own and refused to let her go. It was as if he’d been suspended in a time warp of amazing pleasure and pulsating adrenaline. Hungry passion shot through his veins like electrical currents. One hand skimmed over the taut peaks of her breasts, savoring the feel of her, hearing her gasp of pleasure. The other hand clamped against her butt, pressing her against his arousal, and he groaned in unfulfilled need.
“Oh, gawd! I’m dying…!”
Kendra’s gravelly voice jostled Morgan to his senses. Reluctantly, he set Janna to her feet, then kept a grip on her arm when her legs wobbled unsteadily. The astounded look on her face, in those enormous, mesmerizing eyes, tempted him to start right where’d he’d left off. But Kendra was floundering on the bed and groaning in misery.
“I better help her,” Janna wheezed.
“I better go home,” Morgan said raggedly. “But you need to know there was no dare involved in that kiss. I kissed you because I wanted to. Hell, I needed to. If that offends you, I’m sorry. G’night.”
Morgan got the hell out of there before Janna came to her senses and railed at him for practically giving her a tonsillectomy. Damn, as kisses went, that one was of the 220-volt variety. He was still sizzling from the shock of it when he climbed into his truck. He’d probably blown the makings of a friendship, but hell’s jingling bells! That kiss between them had gone off the charts and touching her familiarly left him aching.
Morgan breathed deeply to get himself under control and tried to assemble rational thought, but it just wasn’t happening. One devouring kiss and caress and wham! He wanted her—badly. But she was a—
He slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel and cursed inventively. He might not be a rocket scientist, but he had enough brainpower to figure out that if he was the reason Janna avoided intimacy, the chances of her ending up in his bed were about a billion to one. No, he amended, make that a gazillion to one. He’d damn well better cool his heels—and the other parts of his male anatomy that needed to cool off. If he didn’t, what little headway he’d made today, hoping to compensate for hurting and humiliating Janna twelve years ago, would be blown to smithereens.
Morgan repeated all the sensible reasons why he should keep his distance during his drive home. Too bad his male body wasn’t paying the slightest attention to the logic sent down from his brain. He was still on a slow burn when he walked through his front door—and aching need didn’t go away after he crawled into bed—alone—either.