“What’s your next job, Morgan?” Dalton asked. “Going somewhere more exotic than Harrington?”

Morgan shifted in her seat. Usually she lined up her next gig way before the one she was working on ended. She had a vast supply of contacts and a potential client list that would keep her busy for a long time. This time, though, she hadn’t committed to her next job. She told herself she liked keeping her options open, especially since a lot hinged on the Rosenthals’ opinion of the house she created for them. But deep down she knew the real reason.

It was Cal.

She hated the thought of leaving him behind.

Morgan felt his gaze probing, but she kept her attention on her plate. “Not sure,” she said lightly. “I have many options. Right now I just want to concentrate on delivery.”

“I hear you,” Sydney said. “I’m sure they’ll be pleased. The last time I visited I couldn’t believe how gorgeous it is. They’d be crazy not to love it.”

Tristan returned and refilled his wineglass. “I’ve cleared my schedule to help you with the decor. Managed to snag a few pieces in SoHo you’ll go crazy for,” he said. “Oh, and we do have something to celebrate.” His eyes sparkled with triumph. “Pierce Brothers is now the new owner of two properties.”

“The farmhouse on Balance Street I told you about?” Morgan asked.

He nodded. “That was an amazing tip. I also scooped up the other one on the block they were renting out to tenants. I’m going to convert it into a two-family house.”

“So, you solved your issue with Sandy Harper?” Dalton’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Thought her father hated my work on the deck.”

Tristan sighed. “You were right. He loved the red maple and sang your praises.”

“A little louder, please?”

“That’s all you’re getting, bro.”

Dalton laughed and raised his glass. “Well done. Here’s to making buckets of money and taking on the Property Brothers.”

Tristan rolled his eyes and picked up his glass, then swung his gaze to Cal.

Morgan held her breath. Cal kept his face expressionless but slowly raised his glass. “To Pierce Brothers,” he said quietly.

They shared a small smile, and Morgan finished her dinner with a goofy grin of satisfaction on her face.

A few hours later, the dishes were piled up to the cabinets, the garbage cans were full, and company had left. Tristan and Dalton snuck out before Cal could ream them about helping clean up, then sniped about his cleaning woman wanting to quit since his brothers moved in.

“Screw it,” Cal said, looking at the disaster. “I’ll make them deal with it tomorrow. Imagine how surprised they’ll be when they figure out we didn’t clean up for them.”

Morgan nibbled her lip in concern. “Yes, but the party was my idea.”

“You cooked and set up. They clean. We’re going to bed.”

“But—”

He stopped any further protest by scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to his bedroom. As hard as she tried to be affronted by the caveman behavior, she was already wet with need for him. That commanding streak in him turned her on. He placed her on the bed, then took a few steps back. Eyes hot and hungry, he studied her, then sat down in the oversize leather chair in the corner of his room and hooked one foot over his ankle in a relaxed pose.

She blinked. “Aren’t you coming over here?”

His slow grin was wicked and made her belly twist. “I want you to strip for me.”

She sucked in a breath. Hesitated. He waited her out, and suddenly her inner temptress stood up and took over. There was something about the way this man made her feel that urged her to do things she never would have thought of. She felt like his own personal goddess: a sexy, powerful woman with nothing to hide. Morgan loved the way he made her own her sexuality without apology.

Without answering, she climbed off the bed and stood before him. She was dressed in simple cream pants and a lilac blouse. But she’d put on her new bra and panty set today, knowing he’d take it off. Even buying it made her feel deliciously wicked.

She began to unbutton her blouse, going slow and steady, then dragged the silk material down over her shoulders, hooking it on her elbows. He ate her up with those charcoal eyes, taking in the delicate plum lace of her bra. “Went shopping, huh?”

“Yes.”

“I highly approve.” He cleared his throat. “Continue.”

She smiled with pure naughtiness and dropped the blouse on the floor, then slowly removed her bra as well. Running her fingers lightly over her breasts and tweaking her nipples, a low moan escaped her lips. He shifted in the chair, his erection straining his jeans. Dragging her palms down her belly, she stroked the edge of her waistband, then snagged her thumbs underneath. Paused. And slowly dragged the pants down.

“Fuck. You’re beautiful.”

The matching plum thong showed off her freshly shaved pussy and stubble-free legs. She kicked the pants off her feet and waited.

“Finish for me, baby. You’re killing me.”

She caressed her outer thighs and grasped the sides of her panties. Pulled them off. And stood before him naked.

He drank her in, and she reveled in the glory of being the woman he wanted. She straightened up so her breasts thrust out proudly. Let him take his time. She waited for him to come to her.

“What are you reading now?”

Her mouth fell half open. What had he asked? Her brain was a bit foggy, and it was obvious he was aroused, but had he just questioned her on her reading material? “Huh?”