I'm floating in a dark, warm space, my body weightless and free from pain. Gradually, shapes form in the hazy darkness, coalescing into Morgan's bedroom. I'm lying on her silk sheets, my body naked and trembling with anticipation.
"There you are," Morgan purrs, appearing at the foot of the bed. She's wearing that black silk robe, but it hangs open, revealing every perfect curve of her body. "I've been waiting for you."
She crawls up the bed with predatory grace, her red hair falling around her face like a curtain of flame. Before I can speak, she's between my legs, her green eyes locked on mine as she takes me into her mouth.
"Oh god, Morgan," I moan, my head falling back against the pillows as wet heat engulfs me. Her tongue swirls around the head of my cock with devastating precision, making my toes curl and my back arch.
I look down, watching as she takes me deeper, her lips stretched around my shaft, her eyes never leaving mine. The sight is intoxicating, but a flicker of unease cuts through my pleasure.
"Morgan, we can't," I gasp, even as my hips betray me, pushing upward into her mouth. "This isn't right..."
She just hums around me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my body. I'm about to protest again when I feel soft lips press against mine. I look up in confusion to find Lana leaning over me, her blonde hair tickling my face as she captures my mouth in a hungry kiss.
The taste of her is overwhelming, strawberry lip gloss and something uniquely her, a flavor that instantly transports me back to high school, to stolen kisses in empty classrooms and fumbling encounters in the back of my car.
"Lana," I breathe against her lips when she finally pulls back. "I miss you."
Her blue eyes sparkle with something cruel as her lips curl into a mocking smile. "That's sweet," she whispers, trailing her fingers down my chest. "But I never even loved you, Adam."
Her words hit me like a physical blow, but before I can respond, Morgan increases her pace, drawing my attention back to the exquisite torture between my legs. I'm caught between them, trapped in a web of pleasure and pain, unable to escape either woman as they use my body for their own satisfaction.
"No," I try to say, but the word dissolves into a moan as Morgan does something with her tongue that makes my vision blur at the edges.
I feel a sharp slap against my cheek and jolt awake with a violent gasp, the hospital room materializing around me in a disorienting blur. Sarah stands over me, her face twisted with annoyance, while Morgan lounges in a chair beside my bed, barely containing her laughter.
"Hey," I croak, my throat dry and scratchy from the breathing tube they must have removed while I was unconscious. The monitors beep steadily beside me, and my left-hand throbs beneath thick layers of bandages.
Morgan's lips curl into a pleased smirk. "What were you dreaming about, Adam?"
"Drop it," Sarah snaps, adjusting my IV line with unnecessary force.
"What?" I ask, confusion fogging my mind as fragments of my dream dissolve like smoke.
Morgan leans forward, her green eyes glittering with mischief. "Oh, you were just moaning my name," she purrs, looking far too satisfied with herself. "Quite enthusiastically, I might add."
Heat rushes to my face as pieces of the dream flash through my mind, Morgan between my legs, her mouth, the pleasure, oh god.
"I was not," I protest weakly, though the knowing look in Morgan's eyes tells me she doesn't believe me for a second.
Sarah narrows her eyes, looking between us with sudden suspicion. "So much for not sleeping with your boss, huh?"
"We didn't sleep together," I blurt out, the lie feeling clumsy on my tongue.
Morgan tilts her head, a smile playing on her lips like she's enjoying some private joke. The amusement in her eyes makes my heart race faster than the hospital monitors can track.
"You're covered in bruises and bites," Sarah sighs, gesturing toward my neck with obvious annoyance. "Did you sleep with a wild animal then?"
"I resent that," Morgan interjects smoothly, not bothering to hide her smirk.
My face burns with embarrassment as I realize just how visible the evidence of our encounter must be. I tug at the thin hospital gown, trying to cover the constellation of marks Morgan left on my skin.
"It's... complicated," I manage, my voice still raspy from the breathing tube.
Sarah throws her hands up in exasperation. "Unbelievable."
The doctor chooses that moment to enter, clipboard in hand, looking thoroughly uncomfortable as he clears his throat. "Mr. Avery, I'm pleased to report the reattachment went well. With physical therapy, you should regain most functionality in your finger."
"Most?" I echo, suddenly remembering why I'm here in the first place.
"There was significant nerve damage," he explains, his eyes darting between the three of us like he's walked into a soap opera. "But given the clean nature of the cut, we're optimistic about your recovery."
Sarah steps forward, instantly shifting into protective mode. "What kind of physical therapy will he need? How long until he can use his hand normally?"
As the doctor launches into a detailed explanation of my recovery timeline, Morgan moves closer to my bed, her fingers discreetly finding mine beneath the thin hospital blanket. The gentle pressure of her touch sends an electric current up my arm.
"You scared me," she whispers, her voice so low only I can hear it. "Don't ever do that again."
Something in her tone makes me turn to look at her. Behind the carefully composed expression, I catch a glimpse of genuine fear in those green eyes.
"I know," I whisper back, suddenly overwhelmed by the gravity of everything that's happened. The weight of her concern, the reality of my injury, and the complicated mess my life has become all crash down on me at once.
I take a deep breath, wincing as pain shoots through my bandaged hand. The doctor's words about "significant nerve damage" echo in my mind, and a cold clarity washes over me.
Morgan's fingers are still intertwined with mine, her cool touch oddly comforting. I meet her gaze, the gravity of my situation weighing down on me like a lead blanket. "Morgan, I'm so sorry, but... I think I need to quit. At least until I regain full mobility."
Morgan's face contorts instantly, her cool composure shattering like glass.
"Quit?" she shrieks, her voice rising to a pitch that makes the nurse in the hallway pause and glance through the doorway. "Are you out of your fucking mind, Adam?"
She jerks, her bloodstained designer clothes rustling as she begins pacing manically beside my bed. Her red hair whips around her face as she gestures wildly, green eyes flashing with something that looks almost like panic.
"This is absolutely ridiculous! You can't quit! You literally just started working for me!" She's nearly hyperventilating now, her chest heaving beneath her blood-spattered blouse. "What am I supposed to do without you? We're practically best friends! Who's going to make my breakfast? Who's going to keep the house running? Do you have any idea how long it took me to find someone I could actually trust?"
Sarah's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline as she watches Morgan unravel, her previously composed demeanor disintegrating with each frantic step across the linoleum floor.
"Morgan," I try to interject, "I can barely use my hand. I can't cook properly or…"
"No, no, NO!" She slams her palm against the wall, making the doctor flinch. "This is my fault! ALL MY FAULT! I should have been supervising you better! I should have gotten you proper knives, proper training!"
Her voice cracks as she spins toward me, her face flushed with emotion. "Look, since you're my employee, this is clearly a workplace accident. It happened on my property while you were performing duties within your job description."
She runs her hands through her hair, mussing her perfect styling. "You'll take workers' compensation. As much as you need! Full salary while you recover, medical expenses covered, everything!" She's nodding frantically now as if convincing herself. "And, of course, your room is still free of charge. Where else would you even stay? With your parents? Don't be absurd!"
The doctor clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the outburst but seizing the momentary pause to interject. "Mr. Avery, if I may," he says, adjusting his glasses as he steps forward. "While the injury is certainly serious, it's just the one digit. The reattachment went well, and the rest of your fingers work just fine."
Morgan seizes on this immediately, her eyes brightening with desperate hope. "See? SEE? It's just the one finger! You have nine others that work perfectly fine!" She reaches for my uninjured hand, clutching it between both of hers.
"That's quite enough," Sarah interrupts, her voice cutting through Morgan's frantic rambling. She turns to the doctor with a forced smile. "Doctor, can we have the room alone for a moment, please?"
The doctor looks relieved at the opportunity to escape the tension. He nods and tucks his clipboard under his arm. "That's all I really had to say anyway. Adam can be released in a few minutes once all the paperwork is filed."
As soon as the door closes behind him, Sarah positions herself between me and Morgan, creating a physical barrier. Her protective stance reminds me of when we were kids and she'd shield me from playground bullies.
"I don't think Adam should stay with you for now, Morgan," she says firmly. "I can watch him, and we can decide if your work is his best option after he's had time to recover properly."
Morgan's face darkens, her previous desperation hardening into something colder. "Excuse me? I'm his employer. I'm responsible for his medical care."
"Sarah, I think she's just trying to help me out," I interject, my voice stronger than I expected. Both women turn to me with matching expressions of surprise. "Morgan's been nothing but supportive since... everything happened with Lana."
Sarah's eyebrows shoot up so high they nearly disappear into her hairline. "Adam, she's clearly…"
"Taking care of me," I finish firmly. "Look at her, Sarah. She's literally covered in my blood because she rushed me to the hospital. She saved my finger."
Morgan's expression softens, vulnerability flickering across her face before she quickly composes herself. Something in her eyes makes my heart clench, a flash of genuine relief that I've defended her.
Sarah's face hardens, her eyes narrowing behind her glasses. "You don't get it, Adam. You don't understand what's happening here."
"What are you talking about?" I ask, shifting uncomfortably in the hospital bed.
Sarah steps closer, lowering her voice. "I've been friends with Morgan for two months. She approached me right after my breakup with Michael, became my shoulder to cry on, my wine night buddy, my confidante." Her voice trembles slightly. "She claimed she was a fashion model, never once mentioning she worked in porn."
Morgan's face remains impassive, but I notice her fingers tightening around the strap of her designer bag.
"Don't you see?" Sarah continues, her voice rising with frustration. "She befriended me to get to you. She manipulated our friendship. She's clearly up to something dark here, Adam. I think she's manipulating both of us."
The accusation hangs in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. I look at Morgan, searching her face for any sign of guilt or deception.
"Is it true?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Morgan doesn't flinch. Her green eyes meet mine steadily, unflinching. "No," she says simply. The single word carries such conviction that I almost believe her immediately. "I genuinely enjoy Sarah's company."
Sarah scoffs, crossing her arms. "So it's just a coincidence that you hired my brother after he broke up with his girlfriend? That you just happened to take him in when he was at his most vulnerable?"
Morgan's shoulders slump suddenly, and her eyes fill with tears. "I didn't even know your Adam was with Lana," she says, her voice cracking with what sounds like genuine emotion. "I swear, Sarah. When you mentioned your brother was dating someone in the industry, I thought it was a different Adam."
The tears spilling down her cheeks seem real. She looks genuinely devastated.
"There are plenty of Adams in Los Angeles," she continues, her voice small and hurt. "Do you really think I'm some kind of monster who'd orchestrate this elaborate scheme? I just wanted to help."
I study her face, trying to detect any hint of deception, but all I see is a woman who seems genuinely wounded by the accusations.
"Sarah," I say gently, "I think you're being a little harsh."
Morgan turns to me, then back to Sarah, her hands open in a pleading gesture. "Look, I understand why you're suspicious. This situation is... unusual. But I promise you both, I never intended any harm." She wipes at her tears with the back of her hand. "When I saw what happened with Lana, I wanted to help him. I was already going to offer him the position to begin with because of how well Lana spoke of him."
Sarah's expression wavers slightly, uncertainty creeping in. Morgan seems to notice this and continues.
"I know how much you love your brother, Sarah. That's one of the things I really admire about you, your loyalty to family." She takes a tentative step forward. "And Adam, I respect your decision if you want to quit. I just... I've come to care about you. As a friend. As my employee. The thought of you leaving when you're injured feels wrong."
Something in her voice, a vulnerable tremor, makes me believe her. There's a sincerity in her eyes that I can't imagine being faked.
I take a deep breath, my mind racing with everything that's happened. The finger, the hospital, Morgan's breakdown, Sarah's accusations. It's all too much.
"I need a minute to think," I say, rubbing my temple with my uninjured hand. "Morgan, do you mind if I speak alone with Sarah for a minute?"
Morgan's expression shifts instantly, her eyes widening with something that looks almost like panic. "Adam, please..." she says, her voice tight with anxiety.
"Just for a little bit, okay?" I say kindly, trying to reassure her. "I promise I'll talk to you again after."
She hesitates, clearly reluctant to leave us alone, but finally nods and steps out of the room. The door closes behind her with a soft click that somehow feels deafening in the sudden silence.
I sigh heavily, turning to Sarah who's watching me with a mixture of concern and frustration.
"Look, I believe her, but..." I pause, gathering my thoughts. "I know you've had your opinions in the past about my life choices, including Lana, and I feel like I've been spiraling lately. So if you desperately think I shouldn't live with Morgan, I'll listen to you."
Sarah's eyes soften at my words, the anger draining from her posture.
"The only thing I want to ask you is this. Was there anything weird about your friendship looking back? Anything you can possibly think of that points to her trying to manipulate you? Is there any chance this is maybe just a coincidence after all?"
Sarah sits on the edge of my hospital bed, her brow furrowed in thought. She removes her glasses, pinching the bridge of her nose as she considers my question.
"Adam, I don't know," she admits finally. "Our friendship seemed genuine. She was there for me when Michael left. She brought soup when I was sick. She remembered my birthday when even when I had to text you because you're dumb ass forgot."
I feel a stab of guilt. All this suspicion seems unfair if Morgan never showed unusual interest in me through Sarah.
"Did she ever ask about me specifically? Like, trying to get information?"
Sarah's brow furrows as she thinks, absently cleaning her glasses with the hem of her shirt.
"No," she says after a moment. "I brought you up a few times just to rag on my dumb brother, you know?" She smiles faintly. "Complaining about your stupid girlfriend or how you don't call Mom enough."
"And she was interested?"
"Not really," Sarah admits reluctantly. "If anything, she always seemed disinterested in that stuff. She'd laugh at the stories, but she never pressed or dug deeper. She was more interested in my life, my career, my dating disasters."
I nod slowly, processing this. "Then this really seems like a non-issue to me."
Sarah sighs, slipping her glasses back on. "Maybe. But something still feels off, Adam. The timing is just too convenient."
"Or maybe it's just coincidence," I counter. "Look at the facts, she didn't pump you for information about me, she gave me a job when I needed one, and she literally saved my finger today." I hold up my bandaged hand. "Does that sound like someone with malicious intent?"
Sarah's shoulders slump slightly. "I guess not. But what about the porn scene thing? That's definitely crossing a line for an employer."
"No, that wasn't Morgan's idea," I say quickly. "Lana pushed that, not her. Morgan was just doing her job."
Sarah shakes her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Lana is fucking cooked, isn't she?"
I nod with a frown, memories of the studio flooding back, Leo's hands on her throat, the way she looked at me as he took her, that smug satisfaction in her eyes.
"You miss her, though," Sarah says softly, not a question but a statement.
I nod and say, "Yeah..." The admission feels like a betrayal after everything, but it's the truth. "Pathetic, right?"
"It's not pathetic to miss someone you loved," Sarah says, her voice gentler than I expected. She reaches out, squeezing my uninjured hand. "Even when they hurt you."
I look down at my bandaged hand, the reality of my situation finally sinking in. Even with all her warnings, Sarah is always there for me.
"I think I'm going to stay with Morgan," I say quietly, the words feeling like both a surrender and a decision.
Sarah sighs, a sound I've heard countless times throughout our lives whenever I've made choices she questions. "Of course you are." She squeezes my hand again, her fingers warm against mine. "Try not to get your heart broken this time, bro."
The wry concern in her voice makes me smile despite everything. "I'll do my best."
Sarah opens the door, and Morgan steps back in, her eyes immediately finding mine, questioning. The vulnerability I glimpsed earlier is gone, replaced by her usual composed demeanor.
"So?" she asks.
"If you'll have me, I'd love to stay," I tell her simply.
Morgan's expression shifts subtly, her shoulders relaxing as she gives me a small, composed smile.
"It's my fault you chopped your finger off, Adam," she says with surprising calmness. "It's the least I can do."
"Thank you, Morgan."