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Chasing Fate: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Dark Love Series Book 5)

Page 26

by Kat T. Masen


  I sit back, crossing my arms in the process. Not correcting her assumption on my actions last night, I continue to act cold toward her, allowing my anger to be seen. Morgan sits on the edge of the bed, keeping her distance. She may not feel it, but my urges are in overdrive because I fucking miss her, and she’s way too close for me to be thinking straight.

  “Wyatt and I met just out of college. It was a celebratory Vegas trip that went horribly wrong. A friend of mine had been drugged, and I was too busy getting drunk.”

  Her hands fidget with the edge of the blanket, carefully recounting her story. “Wyatt found her, and long story short, we started seeing each other. One night, completely out of the blue, we both decided to get married. I did love him.”

  It kills me to hear it. That fucking word does my head in. I bite my tongue, allowing her to finish.

  “We’d only been seeing each other for six weeks before we tied the knot. My dad was livid,” she reveals. “Two months after we got married, Wyatt’s ex announced she was pregnant. I knew I couldn’t go back to my old life of drinking and partying. My destructive behavior began the moment my mom died, and I didn’t know how to cope. I wasn’t like Scarlett. She knew how to deal with her emotions and move on. I bottled them up, then screwed guys like they were going out of style.

  “Wyatt begged me to stay, and I did. Michael was born, and I fell in love with him. He wasn’t mine, but he was at our house every second week. Over time, I treated him like my own.”

  I open my mouth without hesitation this time. “I don’t get how you could love a kid who belongs to your husband’s ex. And he fucking cheated on you.”

  “He did, sort of. They slept together a few days after he and I got together. I wasn’t exactly invested in the relationship at that point. I was infatuated with the physical side.”

  Ouch. If that didn’t stab me right in the fucking heart. You probably deserve that for being a heartless bastard.

  “Right,” I say with sarcasm. “So, you’re allowed to fuck someone because he did?”

  “Is that what you think this is, Noah? I didn’t expect this to happen, especially with you.”

  “Well, I didn’t expect this to happen, especially with you,” I fire back. Both of us remain silent, only the sounds of the wind against the window echoes through the room. What now? How do I stop my growing need to touch her? The fact that she’s here in this room is giving me a raging hard-on, and I hate her for that.

  “Noah, when I first saw you, all I wanted to do was fuck you. That’s it. You did something to me that I just couldn’t understand. My body betrayed me on so many levels. I’d have happily just fucked you with no strings attached. And yes… you were a rebound. I was done with my marriage, and you were on my radar.”

  I don’t know whether to be turned on or furious. Yet, I’m quick to judge her for wanting only that. A hypocrite for thinking it’s okay for me to do that but not her, for men to sleep around but not women.

  “I didn’t mean to have feelings for you. I talked myself out of it the moment I sensed them creeping in. I haven’t even known you that long, but you’ve done something to me that I can’t change even if I wanted to.”

  There are no more words left to be said. I need to be inside her because the feeling consumes me, and nothing in this world matters right now, all judgment aside. I lean forward and drag her body toward me, pinning her down.

  “I’m going to fuck you,” I whisper in her ear. “Because I don’t know what else to do. Because I’m crazy around you, and you hurt me so bad.”

  Screw the foreplay.

  I slide my boxers toward the middle of my thighs—enough to expose my cock—and shove her dress past her waist and over her head. Her panties, white and lacy thin, are pushed aside. The smell of her arousal teases me, and with no warning, I ram my cock into her pussy hard, watching as she arches backward while moaning into the empty room.

  Her nails dig into my back. The slight pain only driving me harder into her, taking her possessively as if she’s only ever belonged to me. The urge to blow teeters so close to the edge that I’m forced to close my eyes and gain control. When I open them up, her blue pools of lust are penetrating me.

  I’m falling for her in ways I never thought possible.

  And I don’t know how to release myself from her spell.

  I pull myself out quickly and flip her over, desperate not to stare into her eyes, voiding this moment of any emotion aside from lust.

  She rubs her ass against my cock, teasing me relentlessly. “You can turn me around, forget that I exist. But know this…” she pauses, catching a breath, “… I’m going to make it my mission to remind you that I’m selfish. I take what I want just like you.”

  With my mind already crazy and not thinking straight, I’m not quite sure I understand until she latches onto my cock and rubs it against her. The wet dripping off her pussy only makes for a perfect entry, and in one quick and sensual move, she guides me in until I’m sitting comfortably inside her again.

  I’m coming undone.

  I could easily fuck her hard until I come, but I want to savor this moment, using my knees to spread her legs wider. The view from above is breathtaking, her ass exposed as I watch my cock glide so effortlessly. My palm is twitching, rubbing her skin up and down until I’ve grabbed what I can and smack my palm against her cheek, creating a loud bang.

  She begs me to hit her harder, and I do so, biting down on my bottom lip as the urge is almost impossible to ignore. I have to stop for a moment and brace myself for the finale.

  Pulling out, her moan deepens at the loss of contact. Turning her over, I’m transfixed by the way her body reacts to me. Her skin is red raw from where I’ve been, and a dirty smile plays on her lips while she waits for me to enter her again.

  I stand tall, kneeling above her as she lies innocently beneath me. My hand moves to my shaft, latching on as I stroke myself, refusing to break eye contact with her. The way her body reacts is such a beautiful sight, her nipples erect underneath her lacy bra and her chest rising and falling to the beat of my strokes. The moans escaping her sweet little mouth beg me to enter her again, but this time, I want it all.

  With her thighs pushed down, I spread her legs wide open. She doesn’t stop me—encouraging me to bury myself deep inside her. The tip of my cock settles at her entrance, the impatient side of me not slowing down, entering her relatively fast. She groans with her muscles visibly flexing. Her neck is exposed, ready for me to run my tongue along her skin.

  She’s at my complete mercy, my body thrusting deep in sync with her moans. I can smell her pussy—she’s completely soaked. And every time my body makes contact against her clit, the sounds of her wet arousal echo between us.

  Morgan warns me that she can’t hold off. Reaching over the headboard, she latches on and raises her hips to allow me to enter her deeper. In and out, her eyes plead with me to fuck her is more profound.

  “This is what your body does when I’m fucking you,” I tell her, shoving my fingers further into her mouth and watching her wide eyes tear up in desperation.

  I pull them out, her gasp following shortly after.

  She moves her hand down and grazes her clit. “Ready when you are.”

  Spreading her again, I watch my cock slide in and out at a slow pace, savoring each thrust. The fire in my belly begins to rise, my legs wobbling in unison. I pick up the pace slightly, diverting my attention to her soaked fingers, rubbing her pussy in a wild frenzy.

  Seconds later, she releases a loud moan, biting her lip as her face turns completely red. Around my cock, she twitches, and her orgasm has me undone. The fire has risen, and my body spirals out of control, every inch in a euphoric state as I hold my breath. Unwillingly, my entire body jerks forward, collapsing on top of hers.

  Our chests beat against each other, our breathing uneven as we both gulp for air.

  We remain silent, and I continue to stay inside her, never wanting to remove myself. And then
, I demand what I should have all along. “I’m not going to share you despite what your circumstances are. I’m selfish, too. Leave him now,” I demand, almost threatening her.

  “It’s not so black and white, Noah.” She wiggles her body, but I lay my weight on her, refusing to allow her to break free.

  “It’s either them or me.”

  “You’re giving me an ultimatum?”

  “Yes,” I voice, confidently.

  “You don’t understand, Noah. You don’t have a child. I can’t give up on him.”

  The fire in my eyes mirrors hers. The fury returning in just one breath that I can’t reason with her. “He’s not your kid.”

  “No, he’s not. But I’ve been in his life since the day he was born. He’s not like all the other kids. I tried to explain that to you, but you won’t listen.”

  “Because it sounds like an excuse. Every kid is going to put on a guilt trip if their family is breaking up. You just don’t want to move on,” I tell her, the enmity driving me further and possibly to the point of no return. “And why the fuck would you need to sleep in the same bed as your husband, huh? I bet you still fuck him or at least let him get you off.”

  “Fuck you,” she almost spits. “You have no idea of the sacrifices I’ve made for Michael. And I’d do it all over again because he deserves no less. I didn’t ask for a special needs stepson, but I got one and wouldn’t change it for the world.”

  “Well, change it. As I said, it’s them or me,” I demand hastily.

  “You fucking prick, get off me,” she yells, pushing my chest forward. “Maybe I should ask you to end your ties with Kate? How does that feel, huh?”

  Her jealousy over Kate still amuses me. There will never be anything between us, Kate has made that perfectly clear.

  But Morgan should belong to me.

  Like a possessed man in love, I’m rock-hard again, and without warning, I enter her pussy. Something I probably shouldn’t do, but I don’t give a goddamn fuck. I grab her arms, controlling her desperate need to push me away, using my hips to fuck her this time because the jealousy is driving me to the brink of insanity.

  Underneath me, she swears at me to get off her, but I ignore her threats. Her body is telling a different story. Her nipples are erect under my touch, her teeth clenching each time my cock goes in deeper. Shaking her head back and forth, I want her to shut the fuck up because she belongs to me and no one else.

  “You’re a fucking asshole!” she screams in between her moans.

  My hand moves toward her mouth, covering it while I take what’s mine. And with just one surge, I’ve come undone again.

  My heart beats erratically. My vision is slightly impaired as I try to gain control. My cock is so sensitive, the walls of her pussy clenching and making me jump slightly. I open my eyes and see her stare back at me full of rage. She pushes me again, and this time I pull myself off and collapse on the bed beside her. She’s quick to move away, grabbing her dress and covering her chest.

  “Fuck you,” she shouts. “You don’t just come inside me thinking you own me.”

  I’m too tired to fight her, continuing to lie there and stare at the ceiling. But something inside my exhausted brain tells me it’s not over yet.

  “Oh, that’s right,” I say. “Only your husband can do that.”

  The steam is shooting out of her ears as she races to get her clothes on, throwing her dress over her head in one swift motion. “And to think I was going to tell you that I love you,” she sputters, momentarily beyond words. “I should save the words for someone who actually gives a fuck. Someone who loves me back.”

  And with her words said loud and clear, she leaves the room, abandoning me with only my thoughts.

  Love.

  The four-letter word that’s ruined my life.

  NOAH

  Misery really does love company.

  It’s been two weeks since the day Morgan walked out on me. I know I’ve been a prick toward her, but I refuse to conform to someone she wants me to be—a man who’s willing to share her.

  Haden and Presley offer to take over the account, sympathetic to my personal issues. I never want my personal life to screw with my work life, and so I continue doing what I need to do and communicate with Scarlett rather than Morgan.

  Scarlett’s great to talk to, and although she has an extremely hectic schedule, she finds time to chat without bringing up the subject of her sister. “You would totally love it out here,” she tells me over the phone one afternoon. “Desert heat, and girls are dancing in teeny tiny bikinis.”

  “Another stripper movie?” I tease while typing an important email to a client.

  “Of course, you’d say that.” She laughs. “This is a romantic comedy, something different for me. My main lead is new to Hollywood, and they’re really trying to push the chemistry between us.”

  “C’mon.” I smile through my words. “You’re telling me that’s forced? You can charm anyone.”

  “He has a small dick,” she blurts out.

  I stop typing my email. “And you know that because…”

  “Because he’s wearing white trunks, and it’s obvious. I keep telling his publicist that it’ll really hinder his career if nude pictures leak out.”

  “Not to delve too much into the semantics, but perhaps it’s cold. Unless you have him pinned to a bed and stand in front of him naked, you’ll never really know.”

  “I guess it’s best that we leave it a mystery, then. I’m not really a pin-a-guy-to-a-bed type of girl.”

  With my pen tapping against the glass desk, I fight the urge to continue this topic. I’m not in the mood, anyway. Or at least that’s the lie I spin to myself.

  “So, what are your plans this weekend aside from Haden and Presley overloading you with edits?” I ask, quickly changing the topic.

  There’s a moment of silence, followed by some voices in the background. She must be placing her hand on the receiver as I’m unable to translate the muffled sounds into words.

  “I… uh… family stuff. A birthday,” she follows in a hushed tone.

  “Oh… who?” Immediately, I regret asking the question, knowing all too well I won’t like the answer.

  “Michael.”

  I struggle to fight off the jealousy, gritting down and holding back my words because they aren’t aimed at Scarlett. It looks like everyone will be playing happy families this weekend while I get drunk and drown my sorrows in some random pussy.

  With my mood rapidly declining, I tell Scarlett that I need to go and finish some work. As soon as I hang up the call, I rest my head on the back of my chair and stare at the ceiling—my favorite pastime of late.

  I honestly believe that as time goes on, I will forget all about her. That some other woman will pique my interest, and I would move on effortlessly. I didn’t expect feeling sick every morning when I wake and don’t anticipate the constant depressive state that comes with that feeling like my whole world revolves around her and nothing I do or say will make it go away.

  And sometimes, I rejoice in a moment of feeling like my old self. Yet, it’s always short-lived. Something or someone reminds me of her, and I’m brought back to reality faster than you can say the word ‘broken.’

  I’ve never felt so alone, walking through this like a nomad. Kate has been busy with work, according to Lex. I find myself distancing myself from her because frankly, I rely on her more than I care to admit. Equally so, she doesn’t reach out to me. Something changed during her last visit. I have enough drama in my life and am not in the right frame of mind to add more.

  I put on a brave face, never allowing anyone to see how much it affects me. Haden and Presley treat me like I’m dying, forever fussing over me and inviting me over to forget about everything. When I tell them I’m fine, they don’t believe me and give me a mountain of work to keep my mind busy. Long hours in the office help ease my troubled mind until the night sets in, and I’m all alone again.

  Charlie’s
exactly the same, forcing me on numerous outings and adventures with the girls to clear my head. Lex never says much aside from understanding how I feel having been through a separation from Charlie for several years. He warns Charlie to take it easy on me and to stop treating me like a broken baby bird.

  I can’t agree more.

  Late Friday afternoon, I decide I need to get away, and the only place I want to go is home, back to my old roots. I miss Mom a lot, and the second I walk into her house on Saturday morning after a tedious flight, she knows I’m ready to talk.

  “Oh, kid.” She places her arms around me and hugs me tight.

  “I’m okay, Mom.”

  “You look like shit, Noah,” she says without holding back.

  “Geez, thanks.” I throw my bag toward the corner of the room and head to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, I stand in front of it for minutes contemplating what to eat.

  Somewhere in my self-absorbed bubble, I’ve failed to notice the moving boxes scattered around the room.

  I grab an apple, taking a bite. “Am I missing something?”

  “Sit down,” she tells me. “I’m glad you’re here, so we can talk in person.”

  Pulling out a stool, I sit with my elbows resting on the countertop while I wait for her to explain.

  “I’m moving to California.”

  “Come again?” I ask, confused.

  “Max and I—”

  Quick to stand up, my eyes widen in shock as I almost choke on my apple. Pacing the room in confusion, my anger quickly erupts. “Max, as in Morgan’s dad, Max?”

  “Yes, we kind of started a relationship.”

  I stop just short of the counter, watching as Mom leans with her back against the countertop. In my entire life, she only ever brought home one man—Josh—a divorcée who owns a hardware store in town. I was nineteen at the time, and they dated for almost a year. I liked the guy, he had my approval, but they ended up parting ways because Mom said the spark was no longer there.

  I had no idea what a spark meant, nor did I care to ask. It’s difficult for me to remember that she’s still young, and that most of her life was dedicated to raising me and not living her life like most teenagers or young adults should. And when you see her, you can tell she still looks youthful and nothing like me. She’d always tell me I look just like my dad. It was something she struggled with as I grew older. Her memories of him aren’t fond, but like everything, she made sure I wasn’t affected by his absence.

 

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