Bound by Chalen D. (great novels .TXT) 📕

He looked down at her, “What if you closed your eyes?”

Morgan sighed, turned around and clamped her hands over her eyes, “I swear you have the wrong job. I think you’d be better off embalming the bodies.”

Martie chuckled, and Morgan heard the coffin creak.

Martie Whistled, “He in there alright.”

“Does he stink?” Morgan whispered.

“Not yet.” Martie muttered. “Want to sneak a peek before I shut the lid?”

Morgan quickly shook her head.

“Suit yourself.”

And she heard the soft thud of the lid close.

“Come on.” Martie grabbed her arm, “Let’s get out of here.”

“I’m going to have to disinfect myself when I get home. You and your weird obsessions are really starting to be a pain.”

He grinned and slung an arm around my shoulders, “But you love me.”

“That I do.” She put an arm around his back.

Martie bought Morgan a milk shake and the dropped her off at the office after asking her if she wanted to go to another funeral. No thanks, one was enough for one day. Morgan wished him good luck and then drove home. She set her basket on her hip and headed inside. When she did her eyes almost popped out of her head at who she saw. There was a group of men in business suits, among them was none other than Carson Maxwell, and leading them on their tour, was none other than Norman. One of the guys looked over at Morgan and then snorted.

Well up yours’ old man, She thought.

“Hey cutie.” Norman smacked her butt as she walked to the elevator.

Morgan glared at him.

“Excuse me.” Carson said a little annoyed.

Why are you annoyed? Morgan thought, I’m the one who got their ass smacked by an old man.

“Can you show us the lower level?” Carson asked.

Morgan hurried to the elevator and jammed the number 2 so hard that it popped off. Her mouth fell open, Carson grinned at her, and the elevator doors closed. Once in the safety of her home, she set her basket on the counter and then grabbed a Clorox wipe from the bottle she kept on the counter and wiped down her bag. She grabbed a plastic bag and stripped off her clothes to her undies and shoved her shirt jeans socks and shoes into the plastic bag. There was no way in hell that she could wash this at her Mom’s house. Her Mom was fed up the dead people cooties. Which meant she’d have to through them away or brave the basement.

Looks like she’d be sticking to flip flops for a while. She washed her hands up to her elbows and grabbed her basket before heading to the room. She quickly took a shower, got dressed and then headed to the kitchen. She poked her head into the fridge, and moved aside a jar of pickles, finding nothing. She was debating on pulling the pickles out or not when the door was banged on.

“Yeah!” She called.

Marcy was heavy handed so Morgan was used to her big knocks. But when Morgan opened the door Carson charged into her apartment.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded.

“What are you doing here?” Morgan demanded, holding her hand out to the door.

 Her hair was wet form a shower he noticed, starting to curl in certain places.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded again.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded.

“You live here?”

“Yes, and you don’t so,” She said sweeping to the door.

“Why do you live here? In the middle of the ghetto?”

“Hey!” She said, her face turning red, “Watch it buddy before I shove that T.v up your ass, I grew up in the middle of the ghetto.”

She was right, He reminded himself. Morgan had grown up in the Ghetto. She wasn’t rich like he was. It had greatly disturbed him when she walked into the apartment building with her long curly hair, and her clothes basket on her hip. It had outright angered him when Norman, who was supposed to be leading the tour of the building had actually smacked her ass! Carson wanted to buy the building refurnish it, and turn it into a home for troubled teens.

“I’m sorry.”

“Out.” She demanded.

Morgan almost shit her panties as He Turned and headed to her room.

“What are you doing?” She demanded as he poked his head into her bathroom.

“This bathroom is sad. Depressing really.”

And then he headed to her room.

“Carson!” She yelled running after him.

She quickly closed the distance and jumped on his back in an attempt to stop him, but he just hiked her higher onto his back and opened the door to her bedroom. He looked at the window that led out to a rusty fire escape which Morgan had loved. She now slowly slipped off his back.

“It’s not much.” She looked at her hands, “But it’s home.”

He looked at her. He was ashamed that she was ashamed of her home. He walked over to the bed.

“Carson don’t!” She yelled, but it was too late.

Carson leapt into the air and landed onto the bed.

“Ow!” He yelped quickly jumping on to the floor smacking his head on the side table Morgan found two blocks from her Mom’s house.

She found it With Liv, back when Liv’s depression didn’t keep her home all day.

Morgan now hurried to his side, as He moaned and held his head.

“Come on.”

She grabbed his arm and wished she hadn’t. She felt his large arms under his suit and she tried hard to not swoon. She helped him up and they went to the living room.

“Will the couch bite me?”

“Sit down.” Morgan demanded, and grabbed his arm again this time yanking him down.

 She stuck her head into the freezer, trying to get ahold of herself. She grabbed a bag of pees, which she hated, so they had been there since she had moved in, and walked over to Carson.

“This couch is so uncomfortable.”

Morgan smiled, held the bag of pees by her face and then dropped them right on his crotch. She sat down next to him.

“Mm.” He said, and his hand tightened into a fist.

“That’s what you get for barging into a strangers home.”

He glared at her and smacked the pees into place and winced.

“You shouldn’t glare.” She actually reached out and smoothed the space between his eyebrows. “You won’t be beautiful for long.”

When she pulled her arm back he grabbed it and kissed the inside of her wrist. A chill went through her right down south.

“Thank you.”

She yanked her arm free and stood up.

“Thirsty?” She asked.

He grinned. So he could fluster Miss Morgan.

“Sure.”

“I have water and semi-flat soda.”

“I’ll take the semi-flat soda please.”

“Really?” She looked at the back of his head from the small kitchen.

“Yes please.”

She grabbed the cup of soda from last night and walked over to him. He thanked her and she plopped down next to him. He took four big gulps and handed over the cup.

“Thanks.” She muttered and took a small sip.

She set the cup on the table.

“Are you okay?” She asked face scrunched up.

Her face was adorable, he wanted to grab it and kiss it, but his head was pounding.

“I think so.”

“Okay.” She sighed, “Can I just please see it. I have to see for myself.”

“Are you a Doctor, Ms. McPhee?” A smile played on his lips.

“No, but I am a big sister to three people who have all had stiches at least once.”

“Alright.”

“Thank you.” She seemed relieved. She took the pees, and looked at his head. “Oh my god!”

“What!”

“You’ll be fine.” She grinned sitting back.

She tossed him the pee pack and it landed right on his crotch. Bulls eye.

“Mm.” He said for the second time that day and jumped.

“Sorry.”

She lunged forward and grabbed the pack of pees, grazing his zipper with her thumb.

He grinned, “Ms. McPhee.”

“Whoops.” She dropped the bag again.

“Okay.” He grabbed the bag of pees, and tossed them onto the table.

A chunk of pees broke when it landed on the table, the cup shaking.

“Do you have any headache meds?”

“I might have Tylenol.”

She hurried to the kitchen and grabbed her bag. She bounced back on the couch and pawed through her bag. Carson watched as her Boobs bounced. He couldn’t help it. She was beautiful. He moved around to adjust himself.

“It’s in here, I know it.” She dumped out her bag.

A tampon to Morgan’s horror rolled to Carson’s leg. He picked it up between two fingers and raised his eye brows.

“It’s not mine.” She snatched it. “It’s my sisters. I don’t know how to use them.”

“Every girl knows how to use them.” Carson told her, as she dug through the pile on the couch. “There as easy as being on top of a man.”

Her cheeks turned pink as she held up a bottle.

“Here.”

He didn’t mean to, but his mouth popped open, “You’ve never been on top before have you?”

She shook the bottle and he took it.

“Morgan?” He questioned.

She handed him the cup and he took it.

“No.” She said when he wouldn’t stop staring at her. “So what.”

“So what!” He exclaimed.

“Just take your stupid pill so you can leave.”

“Morgan wait.”

She stood up and walked past him.

“Morgan come on.” He dropped the bottle of pills and set the cup down. “Come here for a second please.” Maybe it was the begging tone that he had that let her let him pull her onto his lap. She rested her head on his shoulder. Which was hard like the rest of him. All of him, but she didn’t complain.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about. Not being on top.”

“It is where I’m from.” She told him. “If you don’t have two kids by twenty one you’re screwed.”

“How old are you?”

She was quiet and seemed too folded into him. And he liked it strange as it was. He liked the way she felt.

“Morgan?” He smiled.

“Twenty-two.” She slowly said,.

He gasped, “You better get on the ball you old maid!”

“Stop.” She laughed and smacked his chest.

She had a cute laugh. The funny laughs where you wanted to laugh with her. He tried to adjust himself carefully, but it was too late. Morgan’s head shot up, and she grinned at him.

“Problem Mr. Maxwell?”

“Food.” He managed to say.

“You’re on your own.” She stood up and grabbed the bottle of pills. “I don’t have any food here.”

“How do you not have food?”

“Here. Take your pill.” She said, holding out the pill, with the authority of a mother.

Or worse, He thought, a big sister who had grown up way to fast.

He took the pill, and she picked up the soda cup.

“Here.” She handed it over.

He took the cup and she sat down next to him. He watched her pull her hair into a sloppy bun and use the hair tie on her right wrist to hold it in place. She began to back up her purse. His eyes were drawn to a collar on her left wrist.

“Is that a collar?”

“Yes.” She said with measured carefulness.

“Why are you wearing a collar?”

Carson had heard about the whole Sex slave thing. His oldest brother was a dominant and His slave wore a collar. He hopped it wasn’t the same  with Morgan. She was too pretty to let someone degrade her like that.

“It was my puppies collar.” She quietly answered. “She died of Parvo.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was horrible. It had this bleach smell, and she would through up black blood.”

“Stop, Morgan.” He whispered.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. And he hated it. He didn’t want to see her cry and he was pissed that he had brought it up. He set the cup down, moved the purse and held an arm out to her. She all too willingly hurried to curl up next to him. He pulled her in tight. She liked the way he made her feel he made her feel safe. Which didn’t happen a lot. She was careful around guys. Because of her Dad. She didn’t like violence couldn’t stand it really. He kissed her forehead.

“Are you hungry?”

“Sort of.” She mumbled.

“I’ll buy you a shake. A strawberry one.”

She lifted her head and looked at him. “How do you know that’s my favorite shake flavor?”

“I didn’t.