Caught In You: A BWWM Romance (The Token Black Friend Series Book 2) by Nia Arthurs

Author:Nia Arthurs [Arthurs, Nia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2020-06-29T23:00:00+00:00

22

Kaz

I fall to the ground like an idiot who can’t even walk a straight line.

Maybe I’m still a little tipsy, but I thought I’d sobered up enough to get to my apartment without making an utter fool of myself.

The car door slams and Morgan dashes around the hood, dropping to his knees beside me. “Are you okay, Kaz?”

I’m not. I’m not okay in the least.

I feel like I'm about to explode from confusion, need, guilt and all kinds of other emotions that I can’t name right now.

Morgan helps me to sit up and pulls my left arm so he can see it in the light thrown by the lamppost. I hiss in pain, protesting the movement even if I am relieved to have him here.

“You’re bleeding, Kaz,” he mumbles darkly.

“It’s okay.”

He looks closer at my arms. I’m pretty sure that Morgan isn’t a medical doctor, but the serious look on his face is cause for some alarm.

I twist my arms around so I can scan the underside of my elbows. Dust and tiny rocks are embedded in my skin.

His appraisal falls from my arms to my legs. Hesitantly, his fingers reach out to skim my legs. Then the meat of my knee. The top of my thighs.

My eyes close as I breathe in through my mouth and disguise my lingering desire with a hiss of pain.

Morgan reaches around me and wraps his arms across my waist. “Can you get up?”

“I think so.”

His brow knits with concentration as he hefts me to my feet. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never needed one before.”

“I’ll go to the pharmacy then.”

“Wait. I think I saw something that might be a first aid kit.” I nod to the apartment building. “Inside.”

He helps me up the stairs, sweeping me onto his back for a piggy-back ride. I might be putting on a show just for an excuse to touch him, but I didn’t think I’d be this successful.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I plaster my body to his and press my thighs hard against his sides. His grip on the undersides of my knees is gentle and, if not for the awareness skittering through me, I might have fallen asleep from the steady rocking of his body.

Morgan stops in front of my door. “The keys?”

I open my purse and hand them to him.

He lets himself into the apartment and that’s when true horror slaps me.

Clothes lay scattered over the already cramped floor space.

The table is buckling beneath the mounds of papers and makeup cases.

The counters are an absolute mess.

I look like a slob. Which is the opposite of true.

I cleaned all day, but when Morgan agreed to go clubbing with me, I went crazy and made an even bigger mess trying to figure out my outfit.

Morgan straightens. “Where did you say the first aid kit would be?”

Covering my face with my hands, I point in the direction of the bathroom.

He takes off, leaving me in the room alone.

I sprawl out on the bed, staring at the ceiling fan and resisting the urge to scream into a pillow.

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