Fetch: an unwilling love story by B.L. Wilson

Author:B.L. Wilson [Wilson, B.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Publisher: Patchwork Bluez
Published: 2016-12-02T07:00:00+00:00

The distant sound of door chimes entered into Amber’s dream. It was the persistent ringing that finally eased into her consciousness and aroused her.

“Amber, Child, I let Morgan Dunbar in.” Lucille stood at her granddaughter’s bedroom door, speaking softly to her slumbering back. “I’m going grocery shopping with Blanche and Harriet. I’ll see you later, Honey.” Lucille shrugged when Amber didn’t move and quietly tiptoed down the hall to tell Morgan Dunbar that she was leaving.

Amber wasn’t alert enough to understand what her grandmother was saying. She turned over, groaning, and went back to sleep for the next forty minutes. “Mornin’, Nanna. Was that the door I heard?” she remarked, yawning and rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she walked into the kitchen. Since it was a warm morning, she’d decided to leave her robe hanging on the bedroom door. She was wearing a peach nightgown that barely covered her thighs.

“She’s not in here, Thomas.” Morgan stopped sipping her tea to stare at the length of Amber’s nightgown. If she looked closely enough, she could just make out the outline of a perfectly rounded breast, but then, if she did that, she’d want to touch them. She stopped herself from leering and cleared her throat.

“What are you doing here, Dunbar?” Amber snapped, then covered her breasts with crossed arms. Morgan’s laser-like gaze made her suddenly aware that she was wearing just a filmy little negligée.

In response to Amber’s bad manners, Morgan decided to settle back against the kitchen chair and take a leisurely look at Amber’s nightgown before she answered. Her eyes started at the gown’s low neckline and worked their way down to the gown’s hemline, which was resting against Amber’s shapely thighs. “Did I mention that peach is one of my favorite colors, Princess?” Morgan said with a twinkle in her eyes.

Amber flushed at the sexual implication of her remarks. “Answer the question, Dunbar.”

Morgan winked, then stood and strolled toward her.

Amber backed up until she felt the kitchen sink pressing into her hips. The metal sink felt cold against her backside. She flinched.

“The metal’s a little cold on your butt, isn’t it, Princess?” Morgan said with a smile. She stepped closer until she’d hemmed Amber into a corner of her own kitchen.

Dark eyes studied Morgan’s smiling face and Amber wondered what the devilish dimpled grin meant.

Morgan reached around Amber’s shoulders to put her empty teacup into the sink. “There’s nothing sexual happening here, Princess. I just wanted to leave your kitchen as neat as I found it.”

Amber closed her eyes and sighed as she felt the tall woman’s warmth against her skin. “You play dirty, Dunbar.”

“You could always give me a bath if it troubles you that much,” Morgan whispered softly and stroked her cheek. “Perhaps we could bathe each other. I wouldn’t have any objections.”

“Dunbar, it’s far too early in the morning for this discussion,” Amber remarked.

“Since when is ten thirty too early for you?” Morgan asked with a grin.

Amber frowned. “Ten thirty? It can’t be. I told Nanna to wake me at nine so I could be ready for you by ten.

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