Spice & Raspberry Wine
Part Eleven
by sarAdora


9:20 AM
Hoover Building

Numerous pairs of eyes saw the well-tailored and surly assistant director escort Morgan Woodehouse to her office. More than a few were surprised she didn't snap at him when he put his hand on the small of her back, touching her. She had never allowed any liberties with the men she worked with, no matter how close they seemed to be in the middle of a case. They shrugged it off; the AD was a big man, maybe, she allowed his touch because his size frightened her.

Eric closed her office door behind him, and pulled her into his arms. "I'm going to miss you, today," he told her, cupping her cheek.

"I won't have a chance to miss you," she smiled, looking up at him. "I'll be sitting on a pillow all day."

"Didn't bruise your butt, little one. Just made you sore where you love me."

Morgan snorted. "A pillow's better than trying to sit with my legs apart all day."

Eric laughed. "If I catch you sitting with your legs spread, I'll be tempted to do something about it," he warned.

"Don't let me catch you sitting that way, either, Mr. Assistant Director," Morgan replied, running a hand over his groin and making him groan.

"You're playing with fire, Puss," he hissed, cupping her ass and pulling her closer.

"I thought I was the fire," she murmured, cupping his cock, "and this was the extinguisher."

Eric closed his eyes as she fondled him, his cock aching to be inside her again. "Gonna warm your bottom so the pillow does you some good, Morgan Woodehouse. Gonna warm it good," he threatened.

"There's so many other things you could be doing with your hands, Eric Cleveland," she said softly, pulling them to her breasts and rubbing his palms over her nipples.

"Morgan..." he groaned, gently squeezing her breasts, then cupping her face, he covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply.

"Morgan? Are you in?" a voice on the other side of the door asked as a hand knocked twice.

"Think of me, today, Mr. AD," she laughed softly, squeezing his cock and then opening the door to one of the forensic lab techs.

"I'll definitely give your words more thought," Eric told her, segueing back into his AD persona, barely able to maintain his demeanor in front of the lab tech and nodded as he walked away from her.

Naughty Puss, he breathed harshly, trying to walk as if he didn't have a hard-on pushing against his trousers. Gonna have to warm that little bottom of hers, he chuckled.


He had been tied up all day with work and missed her when he called. He left a message for her to call him back before the end of the day. She didn't. At quitting time, he called again to tell her he'd meet her at the gym later that evening. Morgan didn't show and she didn't answer her office phone or cell. He called her repeatedly. She didn't respond. He was furious with her and frustrated. Playing with fire, Puss, he fumed.

Tuesday, she wasn't available - out on a case and ignored his many messages. He didn't expect her to show up at the gym and she didn't. He took his feelings out on the boxing bag, frustration and anger eating away at him. Gonna tan her hide, he decided. Soon as I see her, I'm gonna warm that pretty little ass!

Wednesday, he was in her office when she arrived. He waited until she dropped her briefcase and removed her jacket, then startled her when he closed and locked her door.

"Eric!" she exclaimed, taking a step back when she saw his scowl.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he said quietly, his arms folded across his chest. "You haven't returned any of my calls. When I call, you're not available. EVERY time I call, you're not available." His voice rose in volume. "What's going on, Morgan?"

"I can't be with you," she said softly, unable to meet his eyes.

"Why not?" he thundered.

"You consume me..." she said, her voice quivering slightly, turning her back to him. "When I'm with you, I'm... I'm not myself."

"Did I hurt you?" he lowered his voice, his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him, the full force of his gaze on her.

"No." She lowered her eyes.

"You didn't enjoy my company?" He cupped her chin, tilting her head so she had to look at him.

"I did," she admitted.

"You're not making a lot of sense," he said, frustration in his voice.

"I know."

"What are you afraid of, Puss?" he asked quietly.

"Losing myself in you," she confessed. "When I'm with you, I'm not me... I'm yours. Eventually, you'll have your fill of me, move on, I'll be left empty... better to stop it now before it gets out of hand."

It was too late for Eric; it was already out of hand. He wanted her desperately - but he wasn't going to beg. "Let me know when you think you can handle being with me," he snarled, stepping away from her, his need for her painful - the pain talking. "And when your body itches to be filled, give me a call. I'm always good for fucking."

That night, she went to the gym. Wednesday night was the one night Eric didn't work out. She had the machines to herself and worked out until she collapsed. He watched her from the shadows, forcing himself to remain silent and hidden, clenching his fists when he heard a sound that wrenched his heart. Morgan was sobbing. She sat on a mat with her head buried in her arms and sobbed. He was desperate to go to her and hold her - murmur soothing sounds until she calmed. He wanted to cradle her head against his chest - tell her he loved her - that everything would be all right. He wanted to stroke her back, cup her ass, kiss her, and lose himself in her sweet body until his own aching subsided. Instead, he watched and waited - staying in the shadows. The ball was in Morgan's court; she had to make the next move.

On Thursday, she was a zombie going through the motions, wanting desperately to call him, but afraid to voice her feelings. She knew she loved him but found it difficult to tell him so. She thought about him every hour, willing the phone to ring and when it did, she was devastated that it wasn't him.

Eric sat at his desk and stared at the phone. He wanted to call her, tell her that he loved her, tell her that he'd back off, but he needed to see her, tell her anything that would heal this rift between them. He twirled pencils through his fingers, shattering dozens before the day was over. He didn't call her and he wasn't sure how much longer he could stay away from her. Thursday night, he drank himself into a stupor so he could sleep.

Thursday night, Morgan cried herself to sleep. Early Friday morning, she woke with a migraine and cursed the AD to hell and back. She had barely slept and told herself he was responsible for making her ill. She called in sick. By late Friday afternoon, she was convinced he was a sexual deviate and couldn't go without a woman for very long.

He's probably found someone else by now. He'll seduce her as easily as he seduced me. He'll have her clothes off within minutes of getting her alone. He'll suck her nipples and tell her how beautiful she is. He'll lick her sex and tell her she's delicious. He'll... Her thoughts infuriated her. Her anger was building and she cursed him. "The nerve of him - the bastard! The whore monger! How could he do this to me?"

By 9pm, she had worked herself up to a jealous rage and wanted to give him a piece of her mind. "I'll rip his balls off!" Rummaging around in her briefcase, she found the business card he had given her with his address scrawled on the back. "The bastard! Wait till I get my hands on him," she fumed.

She washed her face of tears, and threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater. She didn't trust herself to drive and hailed a cab, directing the driver to his condominium. By the time she banged on his door, her anger was full blown and completely out of control.

He took a step back when he opened the door, surprised to see her. He thought he showed great restraint when he didn't immediately rip her clothes off and fuck her on the floor the moment she stepped inside the door.

Morgan heard soft jazz, saw that the lights had been dimmed and immediately noticed the open bottle of wine on the coffee table. Eric drank scotch. She knew he must have company - female company - who drank wine.

"Where is she?" she stormed into the condo, whirling in a circle, expecting a beautiful woman to be around the corner.

"Where's who?" he asked, slightly amused at her behavior, reminding himself that the spitfire in front of him was a redhead after all.

"Where's the woman you're fucking now?" she yelled. "I want to see her - want to warn her not to fall under your spell. Is she upstairs? Is she naked already? You bastard!" she screamed, coming at him with her fists, her eyes overflowing as she tried to pound on him.

She's jealous! he thought with satisfaction. "No one's here, Puss," he said quietly, grabbing her when she charged him, holding her tightly against him with her arms pinned to her sides so she couldn't hit him. She almost kneed his groin but he was anticipating her move and sidestepped her, tossing her over his shoulder. She continued ranting and crying when he carried her upstairs to his bedroom.

~ End Part Eleven ~

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