“If you think I’ll be done with you in an hour, then you’ve severely underestimated me,” Morgan said. She nipped Emilia’s ear and drew her lips slowly along the outer curve. The sensation nearly killed her. Only her hold on Morgan kept her upright.

“Come on,” Morgan continued and, limping, she led Emilia out into the sunlight.

Emilia sank onto the grass by her boat. Morgan slid down beside her and produced the crumpled sandpaper from her pocket, but made no move to use it as they both caught their breath.

Desire and rationality warred in Emilia’s head. All the reasons to avoid an entanglement battled the aching, immediate need that swept her body in shock waves. This was the problem. This was why she couldn’t do this. Her mind stopped working when Morgan was around, making informed choices impossible. She had nothing to offer this woman. Nothing besides her body and her confusion, and she’d come here to find answers. Losing herself in Morgan would cloud that. It was also all she wanted to do. That kiss . . . Mustering her thoughts was like herding cats. Her mind presented her with recent and vivid memories of Morgan, and anything else faded to white noise.

“Look.” Morgan’s tousled curls tumbled over her forehead, and Emilia dug her nails into her palms to prevent herself from brushing them back.

“What?”

“You’re . . . This has to be your call.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t . . .” Morgan trailed off again as she looked at Emilia with those dark, blue-gray eyes. “I can’t fucking resist you so if this isn’t what you want, it has to be your call.”

The words settled in her mind, heavy and sobering even as they thrilled her. The naked vulnerability in Morgan’s face mirrored the ache in Emilia’s chest. She wasn’t the only one this could hurt. That realization cooled some of the heat in her blood.

“I don’t really know what I want.”

“That’s kind of what I guessed.”

“I actually came here planning to tell you that. I didn’t mean to . . . for that . . . it’s your fault.”

“How?” asked Morgan.

“You’re too goddamn perfect.”

“Sorry?”

“I’m a mess, Morgan.”

“A hot mess.”

“I don’t even know what this is.” She gestured between herself and Morgan. “Besides the fact that I would have fucked you in a heartbeat back there if you hadn’t stopped me.”

Morgan’s sharp intake of breath reawakened the need to touch her. She put her hand on Morgan’s good ankle.

“Trust me. I would have let you,” said Morgan.

“So what do we do?”

“I told you.” Blue eyes fixed on hers. “That’s your call. If you need a friend, I’m here. If you decide you want something more, I think I just proved I’ll be here for that, too.”

“That’s not really fair.”