Cold. Still. Dark. Empty.

Jason looked away from Moreno's wide-open lifeless black eyes to the world around him. As he took in his surroundings, he was dimly aware that the old, abandoned warehouse was just as dead to the world as Antonio Moreno now was. In an odd sort of way, the idea struck him as funny, but as he began to laugh, bile lodged in his throat. Moving quickly, Jason bent over a rusty trashcan and heaved his breakfast and lunch into it. When he was done, he took a moment to catch his breath.

Moreno was dead. Without the help of Sonny or Johnny or anyone else, Jason had taken him out. His blue eyes darkened as he turned back to face the body. A tiny hole marred the man's expensive silk shirt, reminding Jason that the other man's heart would beat no more. Crimson red blood was just now beginning to flow from the back of Moreno's body. The blood would forever mark the place of death, Jason silently told himself, and a shudder swept over him.

He had killed Moreno.

Remorse and revulsion consumed him. The lifeless eyes continued to stare at him, taunting him for his emotions. Unable to stand the silent jeers any longer, Jason knelt down and lowered the eyelids. The change should have given him a bit of comfort, but it didn't. The battle still raged inside him.

A part of him knew that Moreno's death was inevitable. The telephone call to Sonny and the anger they both felt at Reynaldo's massacre deemed that Moreno would pay for his sin. The moment Jason had learned of Reynaldo's death, he had known that he would take part in avenging it. Hell, he had even known that he might be the trigger man, so why was there a war taking place inside of him? He wondered.

The answer was simple. He didn't know it would be so easy. The swift change from Quartermaine to Morgan scared the hell out of him. When he left Keesha to go for some air, he was Quartermaine. Pure and simple. He was a man in grief, who needed some time alone before he went back home to his wife and kids. He had no idea that his Harley-Davidson would lead him to the south end of the docks—to the almost exact spot where his former bodyguard and successor's body was found. And, he for damn sure had no idea that the man responsible would be there alone…gloating over his success…rejoicing in another man's death over a so-called piece of territory.

Swallowing back more bile, Jason began to wrap up Moreno's body in a tattered blanket he had found. Careful not to touch anything else, his mind began to bombard him with 'shoulda's.' He shoulda turned the bike around when he saw Moreno. He shoulda ignored Morena's gibes and taunts. He shoulda remembered that he was Jason Morgan-Quartermaine, and he shoulda disregarded the cold, emotionless voice inside him that compelled him to get off the bike. He shoulda ignored the voice that guided him across the dock and assaulted Moreno with a few choice gibes of his own.

But, he didn't. He couldn't. The voice of Jason Morgan couldn't be ignored and before he could even attempt to control that cold side of him, Moreno was dead at his feet. The act had been self-defense. There was no doubt about that. Moreno had pulled his piece. Jason had grabbed for it. They had struggled. A shot was fired and now, Moreno was dead.

So, why was he dumping the body in the lake?

Moreno's body hit the water with a quiet splash as Jason asked himself that pertinent question. But even as the question was asked, the answer had already been there. He lived, breathed and loved the answer. Keesha.

She could never know that he was there and that Morgan was still inside of him. He couldn't risk losing her. He would do anything to keep her. He would make a moment in time vanish forever if it meant that she would remain by his side until death separated them.

And, with that as his rationale, Jason watched as Moreno's body fell deeper into the water. Once the body was no longer visible, he strode down the dock and headed for his bike. Glancing around him again, he breathed an audible sigh of relief in his solitude. No one had witnessed what he had done, and only one other person would know. He reached inside his leather jacket and pulled out his cell phone. With a few choice words, he relayed his message. After the call ended, he took one last glance before he shoved his helmet unto his head and roared off the dock…and back home to Keesha.

The bedside clock marked another hour of sleeplessness. Simone rolled over and stared at the red, digital numbers. The reason for her insomnia had a name: Sonny. She couldn't forget the sight of his eyes as they had left the beach and walked back to the main house. The passion and fire, which had darkened his nearly black orbs, had been replaced with glum resignation. She wanted to reach out to him and ask him about his mysterious phone call, but a wall had been erected between them. She didn't know how to break it down and she had been a little afraid to try. When he had told her that he would accompany her to Port Charles on the following early morning flight, she had simply nodded. In a move that left her breathless even as she thought of it hours later, he had pulled her to him for gentle and all too brief kiss, and then he had left her. She had spent the rest of the night alone, wondering and keeping sleep at bay in her concern for him.

"This is ridiculous," she berated herself, flinging the sheet from her. She rose from the bed and as she pushed her feet inside her slippers, she pulled on her dressing gown. Tying the belt around her waist, she left her bedroom and went in search of Sonny.

His two-story island home was dark and quiet. Her long, bronze legs moved her quickly down the staircase to the first floor. The sound of Sonny's raised voice told where to find him. She entered his office just as he yelled into the phone.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

The muscles in Sonny's jaw worked as he waited for an answer. Jason's heavy breathing was loud in his ears and proved to irritate him further. Frustration and fear had raised his heart rate. He opened his mouth to demand a response when a click and a dial tone sounded loudly in his ear. "Dammit!" he bellowed as he slammed the telephone down onto his mahogany desk.

"Sonny? Is everything okay?"

Startled, Sonny whipped around to face the owner of the soft, melodious voice. A request to be left alone was never uttered as he looked at the woman who stood in his doorway. Anger, fear and frustration were replaced by desire and need as his eyes swept over Simone. Swallowing hard, his eyes started at her feet and slowly moved up…past her thighs that peeked at him through the opening of her pale green dressing gown…over the swell of her breasts and overripe cleavage…past her soft, full parted lips…to stare into her dark, brown eyes. "Simone…" he murmured, lightly moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue. He rubbed his hand over his face and tried again. "You should be in bed."

Fool or daredevil. Simone didn't know which best described her at that moment nor did she care. Without taking anything into consideration, she stepped inside the room, closing the door behind her. Drawn to him, she moved across the hardwood floors. She didn't speak until she stood before him and then she said, "I couldn't sleep."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he murmured. His eyes locked with hers, and she mesmerized him. He could almost forget everything…the man he used to be and the things he had done…when he looked into her expressive brown eyes. He reached out to lightly caress her cheek. "Is there anything I can do? Warm milk? A lullaby maybe?"

She slid her hand inside of his. Still holding it, she sat on the edge of the desk facing him. She reached for his other hand and said, "You could tell me what's wrong. I know that something is bothering you. I would like to help if I can."

The passionate light in his eyes dimmed and the wall began to move back into place. He looked down at their joined hands as he said, "There's nothing you can do. There's nothing anyone can do."

"There's always something," she said, lightly squeezing his hand. "Give me a chance to prove-"

"You don't have to prove anything to me," he interjected. "Nothing at all. Maybe it's time you went back to bed and get some rest. Your flight is an early one-"

His withdrawal from her was unmistakable and she didn't like it. "My flight? Don't you mean our? Aren't you coming with me?"

"No," he said, wanting to pull his hands away from hers, but unable to do so. "My plans have changed. I'm staying here."

"Well, so am I."

"Why?" he asked, raising his eyes to hers. "I'm fine. Go back home, Dr. Hardy."

"I'm not ready to go back, yet," she said softly.

"Simone, I…" He drew in a long breath and then harshly bit out, "Why?"

"I-I'm not ready to leave you," she confessed. "The beach…our kiss-"

"Simone," he said almost pleadingly. "The kiss was… I shouldn't have… I'm not the kind of man that you need. You'll find him in Port Charles. A good doctor who doesn't have a past and who'll be a father to Tommy…that's the kind of man you need. Not me. Not a hoodrat with shit that doesn't come off no matter how many times he tries to flush it off. I-"

"We all have shit, Sonny," she said. "I have a p-past that I want to forget. Some days are better than others, but-"

"It's not the same," he said, cutting her off. "Your past isn't your fault. I chose mine. I've done things…I'm capable of-"

"-more than you give yourself credit for," she told him. "I'm not a fool, Sonny. I know that you headed the mob. I know what that means. But I also know that you have a heart. I saw it when you came through that door in N-New York and I see it every time you welcome Tommy and me into your home. I don't need a good doctor from Port Charles when I have yo-"

"Don't, Simone," he begged. "I started that on the beach and I shouldn't have. I let my attraction for you cloud what's best for you. See there's something else. I'm selfish, too. You don't need that-"

"Don't tell me what I need!" she fired back at him. She took a deep breath as she released his hands. Placing her hands on his white, muslin shirt, she slid off the desk. She let the rapid pounding of his heart encourage her to whisper, "Don't tell me. Give me what I need, Sonny. I don't know who called you or what they said, but it shouldn't erase what happened before. I know that it doesn't for me."

"Simone, I-"

"Sonny, please," she said, interrupting as she sensed his denial. "You asked me if you could kiss me. I'm telling you now that I want you to kiss me. Sonny, kiss me and don't stop. And, in the morning, we can decide what happens next. Okay?"

He couldn't refuse her soft, heartfelt request. Threading his hands in her dark, brown curls, he angled her head to receive his kiss.

His mouth moved ravenously against hers. Sonny responded with hunger to her plea for him to kiss her. Deepening the kiss, his tongue swirled around hers. She tasted delicious to Sonny's roving tongue and he couldn't get enough of her.

His lips and tongue electrified her. Simone's hand clutched his shirt, unwittingly ripping the buttons from their buttonholes. Her fingers grazed his smooth, hard chest. The single touch sent tingles through both of them. He gasped at her soft caress, giving her tongue the opportunity to explore his mouth as thoroughly as he had explored hers.

Simone's kiss was both bold and shy. Her tongue hungrily roved across his and then quickly withdrew. She repeated the movement several times until Sonny closed his tongue over hers, preventing another withdrawal. Their labored breathing echoed in the dimly lit office as neither was ready to end the kiss.

His hands left her hair to move down her body. His heat warmed her skin wherever he touched. Her back, shoulder blades and then lower back were inflamed as he caressed her.

Pulling his lips from hers, he looked into her glazed eyes. "Much more, Simone and I won't be able to stop."

"I don't want you to," she whispered. Her hands gripped his shirt and pulled it away from him. She opened her mouth to kiss his bare chest. Her tongue slid across his flesh and goosebumps rose in appreciation. His hard male nipples were soon encircled by her lips. She kissed and nibbled him gently, causing him to cry out her name.

Simone's loving attention thrilled and surprised Sonny. He had often imagined how loving her would be, but he hadn't dared imagine how she would love him in return. Feeling her touch him so intimately, he knew that his imagination would have paled in comparison. Her lips moved away from his pecs to nuzzle his neck. His hands then moved downwards to cup and mold her firm behind. One hand slid down her hip to grasp her thigh, raising it to his hip as he pulled her closer against him. His hardness pressed against her softness, leaving neither as to any doubt for his desire for her.

"Oh, God," Simone moaned into his mouth as he feasted upon her lips again. His full arousal made her ache inside. She wanted him and her body moved against him, silently telling him so.

Sonny's hand slid inside her pale green panties. His strong hands cupped her bare behind before one hand moved around to cup her soft, furry mound. She shuddered as he fingered her dark, brown curls. He lingered for a moment before he removed his hand. She whimpered in protest.

"Not here," he said in a husky voice. "In my bed."

They reluctantly pulled apart only to be drawn together again as soon as his bedroom door closed behind them. Her dressing gown was quickly discarded as Sonny led her towards his king-size bed. He drew her earlobe into his mouth and suckled and nibbled her. Her knees gave way and she landed on the bed. Sonny released her earlobe and lightly kissed her forehead. With his eyes on her, he kicked off his shoes and removed his pants. Simone's bottom lip quivered and she looked away. He cupped her chin and lifting her head so that their eyes held. "What's wrong?"

She shrugged and tried to look away again. He wouldn't let her and asked her again. She bit her bottom lip and answered him. "I…um…I want you, but I'm a little…sc-scared."

"I won't hurt you, Simone," he reassured her. "You don't have to be scared with me. I have an idea."

"What is it?" she asked, her embarrassment easing as his gentleness soothed her.

"You make love to me," he offered softly. He lowered himself onto his back. His head made a dent in the pillows as his dark eyes looked at her. "We go at your pace. We do this the way you want." He held out his hand to her. "Okay?"

"Okay," she said, taking his hand. "No lights," she told him.

He nodded and she moved to turn off his lamp. Darkness filled the room until the moon's light peeked through the curtains. Their shadows began to take on a definitive form and Sonny watched in silence as Simone removed her nightgown. He held his breath as his eyes trailed over the outline of her full breasts, hardened nipples, flat stomach and full hips. He released a deep sigh as she straddled him and pressed her bare chest against his. Their hearts pounded in unison and he waited for permission to hold her.

"Hold me?" she asked him.

Sonny's arms closed around her. His large, strong hands splayed on her smooth, soft back. His hands slowly moved up and down her spine, stopping at the waistband of her underwear. His erection ached for more, but he didn't surrender to it. He emitted a low growl as her lower body moved against his.

"I'm not sure…" she began. "I don't know what to do."

"Do whatever pleases you," he told her through ragged breath. "Simone, baby, just relax and let your body tell you what you need. Okay?"

"Okay," she said after a deep sigh. "I just feel so…inadequate. I-I want to pl-please you."

"You already do," he said. His hands left her back to gently cup her face. "Are you sure you're ready for this? We don't have to-"

"I want to," she said passionately. "Sonny, I have this ache inside of me… I can't ignore it. It's just that it's been so long since I was a w-willing participant-"

"Simone, I won't force you!" he hoarsely whispered.

"I know!" she replied. "I'm saying this all wrong-"

"Making love is about trust," he said, interrupting her with a whisper. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," she quickly answered. "I trust you."

Her answer refueled her passion and her faith in herself. She positioned herself so that her face was above his. She lowered her mouth to his, kissing him passionately. Sonny returned the kiss with equal passion, his hands gripping her hips. His pelvis shot upwards and she met his arousal without hesitation.

His response to her empowered her, leaving her bold and brazen. She took his hand and slid it inside the front of her dampened panties. "Sonny," she moaned as his hand moved against her. His fingers easily slid over her wetness, searching for and then finding her small pleasure point. He used varying rhythms as he stroked her and caused her to cry out again.

His name on her lips was like music to Sonny's ears. He became addicted to her breathy pronunciation. His fingers stroked her, his pelvis moved against her and his other hand lowered her head to his. His tongue raked across hers as his centralized caresses drove her over the edge. Her release was consumed by his kisses and he greedily took it all in.

Spent, Simone lay sprawled on top of Sonny. Her entire body throbbed. Her ache now burned even hotter. She wanted more. She wasn’t embarrassed or afraid to tell him just how much more she wanted. "I'm still aching, Sonny. Fill me."

He groaned as her hand closed over his full arousal. She slid her hand inside his boxer shorts. Her fingers outlined his length and her hand marveled over his width. She moved so that his thigh was between hers as her hand continued to stroke him.

Sonny's back arched and he closed his eyes. He felt her shift beside him on the bed. He moaned softly as she withdrew her hand. Anticipation coursed through him as she removed his boxers. He opened his eyes as she straddled him again. His breath caught in his throat as his hardness met her liquid warmth. Her hold on him was tight and secure and he hoped that his release wouldn't happen too soon.

"Oh, Sonny…" she said as he began to tease her with slow, deep thrusts. Her hands closed over his where he once again held on to her hips. She moved back and forth as his thrusts became faster and harder.

She screamed his name again as her release sent shivers through her. She fell on top of him, moaning her pleasure in her delirium. He stiffened beneath her as his release vibrated through him and into her. She moaned again as he called out, "Oh, my sweet Simone…"

They were still and quiet as they lay in each other's arms. Sonny rolled onto his side and lightly traced the outline of her lips. He wanted to speak to her from his heart, but he wasn't sure of the right words. He stared in wonderment as she began to chuckle softly. "What's so funny?"

"I don't know," she said, giggling softly. "I just feel like laughing. I've never felt so… I guess euphoric is the word. I've never felt like this before, Sonny. I hate to break it to you, but I may never leave now."

He began to laugh, too, and then he pulled her into his arms. "What's so funny?" she asked him.

"Well, I was wondering how to tell you that you weren't leaving, and now, I see that I don't have to."

They then laughed themselves to sleep.

Go to Chapter 4.