The Cowboy's City Girl - An Enemies To Lovers Romance

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by Emerson Rose


  I add a ton of sugar and creamer to my coffee and both men gag and roll their eyes.

  “What? I like sugar.”

  “Obviously.” Black says. He’s no fun. I can see why he and Marcus have gotten along well all these years. I wish Marcus would be closer to Elijah instead.

  “Well, if you don’t think he is up to working I’d better get going to Dominus. Thank you, for breakfast, Maria.”

  She moves from the counter wiping her hands on her apron and pulls Elijah close, kissing him roughly on the top of his head.

  “You’re a good boy.” He blushes bright pink and Black chuckles.

  “I’ll see you later,” I say. He nods and gathers up his laptop to leave.

  Maria brings me a plate of bacon, toast and fruit. I need to start working out again. It’s been too long since I’ve been in a gym or a pool for exercise. Swimming reminds me of one thing these days and it’s definitely not exercise. Ever since Marcus and I made love in the pool downstairs I associate pools with sex. I mean come on; having sex in the water is so much better than exercising in it.

  I’m officially daydreaming when Mr. Black speaks again.

  “You should know he’s in love with you.” I can almost hear my perfect bubble burst when he makes his off-the-wall comment.

  “Huh?”

  “Elijah. It’s clear that he loves you. You need to deal with it now before Marcus realizes it.”

  Before Marcus realizes it? Hell, I don’t even realize it. Is he crazy?

  He snaps his newspaper shut and lays it neatly next to his empty plate. I stare at him with my mouth hanging open.

  “Seriously, wait, what’s your first name anyway?” I feel like we know each other well enough to be on a first name basis.

  “Just call me Black, Imani, that’s fine.”

  “Why? Why don’t you want me to know anything about you?”

  “This is why you’re having difficulty with Elijah. You get too close to the help. It’s better to keep things strictly business when it comes to Marcus.”

  “Why do you call him Marcus and Elijah doesn’t get to call him by his first name?” I raise my chin in defiance, and he leans forward, placing his hands flat on the table.

  “I have known that man his entire life. I think that’s earned me the right to call him by his first name.” He pushes his chair away from the table scraping it noisily against the tile.

  “I’ll be in his office.” He directs his comment to Maria, purposely avoiding any further discussion with me.

  And I thought we were finally getting somewhere. I can’t believe he thinks Elijah is in love with me. He and I have gone over this more than once. We are friends, nothing else.

  At least that’s what I thought, and that’s what he said.

  I prop my elbows on the table and drop my head into my hands to think. Have I been giving off the wrong vibe? I’ve never had a guy for a friend before. Being with Elijah is so natural and easy, I can tell him anything. He understands Marcus and we both love him.

  Maria lays her hand on my shoulder, and I reach up to cover it with mine.

  “I didn’t know. I thought we were friends.” I look up into her warm, loving eyes and I see doubt. “Seriously, Maria, I had no idea!” She gives my shoulder a quick squeeze and turns to finish cleaning up.

  “You’re a beauty, Miss Imani. You have to be careful with your love. Save it all for your husband. He needs so much, there can be none left over for any other man, not even a friend.” She wipes the granite countertop with a towel while she speaks.

  “I disagree. There are different kinds of love. I can love my friends, too.”

  “Maybe for you but loving that boy like a friend is hurting him.” She waves her towel toward the door where Elijah just exited. “You know he’s a dead man if he even thinks…”

  “Ah, stop! Nobody’s a dead man; nobody’s in love!” God, I can’t think about anything happening to Elijah. No, no, no. She gives me a stern look and turns her back to me to put the dishes away.

  “Ok, I’ll talk to him.” I can’t risk anybody misconstruing my relationship with Elijah, including Elijah and especially Marcus.

  “Good.”

  Why can’t anything just be easy?

  “I’m going for a swim.” I stand and take my plate to the sink to wash it but she stops me from turning on the faucet.

  “You go. I wash. Your suit is in the changing room by the pool.”

  I wish she would let me do something around here I’m not used to someone waiting on me hand and foot.

  “Go, shoo!” she says gently pushing me away.

  “Okay, okay, gosh, I’m going.”

  I make my way through the house to the basement stairs. Halfway down, I begin to smell the chlorine and my brain is flooded with memories of the last time I went swimming here.

  I miss him already and I feel guilty for not checking in on him after breakfast. I wonder if he’s awake. He has his phone, I’m sure he will call if he needs me. It isn’t like I left the house; I’m right downstairs.

  A vision of him lying next to me in bed asking me not to leave him flashes through my mind. Surely he wasn’t asking me to sit in bed and watch him sleep until he’s back to himself. Was he?

  No, of course not. He was referring to the future. I stayed by his side when he was in the hospital nearly every minute. He’s finally out of the woods and I need to get off my ass and do something.

  I breathe in the warm air and humidity when I enter the poolroom. If I were outside somewhere baking in the hot sun, this would be perfect. But I’m here to workout not to relax.

  I change into one of dozens of purple bikinis in the dressing room. It’s a good thing I happen to really like purple, too. I’m pretty sure I’m stuck with it forever.

  I stand at the end of the pool and cock my head to look at the photograph of myself mid orgasm at the opposite end. It makes me uncomfortable; I’m not interested in seeing myself coming every time I take a lap.

  Maybe I should find the footage of that night and have my own picture made for this end of the pool. Smiling I dive into the tepid water cutting through it without a splash.

  When I’m gliding through the water my mind goes blank, it’s just the water and me now. I concentrate on the rhythm of my strokes, my breathing, and the feeling of weightlessness. Soon I’m lost in a zone, oblivious of anything around me but the comforting silence of the water.

  I approach the end of the pool ready to flip and turn when someone reaches into the water grabbing my arm. I choke and sputter when I suck in a mouthful of water.

  “Hey there, flipper. Are you getting out anytime soon?”

  “You scared the shit outta me,” I say, between coughs.

  “Sorry, baby, I didn’t think you were ever going to stop. I’ve been watching you on the surveillance camera for an hour.”

  “An hour really?” I hadn’t realized I’d been at it for so long. “Hey, why are you out of bed? This is too far for you to walk, Marcus. Damn it, can’t I leave you alone for an hour without you getting into trouble?”

  He looks up and to the side thoughtfully before answering, “No.”

  “You’re impossible.” I slip out of his grasp and pull myself out of the water sloshing it all over the deck. He’s ready for me with a thick bath sheet that he wraps around my shoulders and begins to pat me dry.

  “Stop it, I’m taking care of you, remember?”

  “Well, you’re not doing a very good job. I woke up with two fur balls and no wife. I got lonely.”

  He’s playing with me. “Mmhmm, nice try.”

  “You keep leaving me.” The playful sparkle in his eyes is gone and his face is serious. I keep disappointing him.

  “I’m sorry… ”

  He places one finger on my lips, “Shush. I wasn’t looking for an apology. I just want you to know how much you mean to me. I want to wake up every morning looking into this gorgeous face.” He cradles my cheek bringing my eyes back to his. “I
should be the one apologizing. I’ve monopolized your entire life, saturated you with my problems, and dragged you along this ludicrous journey with me.”

  He pulls me against his bare chest. He is still wearing only the boxers he slept in. I can feel every part of him against me, the soft patch of chest hair brushing against my cheek, every ripple of his abdomen against my wet breasts and his growing arousal against my belly.

  “We need to get you back to bed.”

  “You keep dragging me to bed but not for any of the reasons I want to be there.” I drop my head back and look at him with stern expression.

  “Behave.”

  He raises one of his eyebrows high and groans when he slides his fingers down my spine to the edge of my bikini bottoms. I shake my head slowly back and forth but he’s relentless.

  He slips under the wet material and spreads his hand over my whole ass to pull me tight against his chiseled body. I suck in a sharp breath when he moves down pressing his middle finger between my cheeks to stroke the pucker of my ass.

  His eyes are dark and full of desire and I can only imagine anxiety and surprisingly the curiosity displayed in mine. My heart is pounding so hard against my rib cage I’m positive he hears it.

  “Imani? Are you alright, baby?”

  “Yeah,” I whisper. “I just. I’m not sure if…”

  He slides his hand up to the small of my back and his breathing slows but the desire never leaves his eyes.

  “You know I will always be careful with you, don’t you? I promise, I will never forget what you have been through. I will never push you into something you aren’t ready for.”

  I close my eyes for a moment and gather the courage to respond. “That was the worst part, the most painful degrading part.”

  His lips on mine stop me from saying any more. His soft tender kiss makes all of my anxiety go away.

  “Shush, put me to bed, Mrs. Castillo.” He pulls me close and strokes my wet hair. I listen to the water lap against the side of the pool for a moment and slip my hand into his.

  He gestures to the open doors of the elevator, “Let’s go.”

  “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

  “I’m counting on it, baby.”

  God, I love this man.

  Eighty-Eight

  “You know, I think we’ve spent at least seventy-five percent of our relationship in bed.”

  “I’d say more than seventy-five, more like ninety,” I say, rounding the bed and nearly tripping over Yes.

  “Oh! Hey there, little lady, watch it.”

  “Playful little rascals, aren’t they?”

  “Yeah, with you,” I say with a snort. “They don’t even notice me anymore.”

  “Aw, feeling neglected?” I stand with my hands on my hips in my wet bikini.

  “Actually…” I roll my lips in against each other and switch my gaze up and left trying not to laugh, but I can’t help it.

  “You think you’re funny, do you? Keep it up, and I’ll fuck you until my stitches bust, lady.”

  My eyes pop and my jaw nearly hits the floor. “I cannot believe you just said that!”

  “No? Come over here and I’ll prove it.” When he looks at me through his thick eyelashes smirking, daring me to give in, I almost do.

  I step back until I bump into the door to our bedroom and he chuckles.

  “Thought so.” He’s baiting me. He knows how much I hate not being able to call him out on his challenge.

  “Stop. Damn it, Marcus. I want you, too, but I’m not going to put your life in danger.” He’s not giving up on this, no matter what I say, and he proves it when he pulls his sheet off. He hits me with a look of pure lust when he slides his hand down his abdomen into his boxers.

  And as if that weren’t torture enough he pulls out his cock and strokes it slowly, never breaking eye contact with me. I frown and wrap my arms around my waist to hold myself back.

  “Mm, this could be you, baby. I would much rather it be you.” My lips part and my eyes wander down to where his hand is pumping his silky hard length up and down.

  I can’t help but watch, he’s beautiful and so fucking sexy. I’m soaked and it’s not from my wet swimsuit.

  I take a long shaky breath and bite my lip hard before dragging my eyes away from his busy hand. But not before he thrusts his hips up off the bed. He fucking moans for that little added effect, luring me a step in his direction before I grasp onto the last tiny fiber of willpower that I possess and turn away from him.

  I run into the bathroom and slam the door pressing my back against it. I feel my way along the wood and lock it just in case. I can hear him chuckling on the other side.

  He’s so cruel and fucking stubborn. I stomp my foot and bend at the waist, hands on my thighs trying to slow my heart and calm my breathing. The combination of anger and desire is heady, what am I going to do now? I’m so fucking turned on, and he’s out there trying to get me to kill him. Death by sex, it’s not a bad way to go actually. My God, did I just think that?

  I’ve never had many light bulb moments, but he has pushed me too far. Something in me snaps, and I have a brilliant idea.

  Two can play the torture game. I take my phone from the pocket of my robe and tap it against my palm. Paybacks are a bitch, Mr. Castillo.

  Step one, drag the cushioned bench to the edge of the tub and place a stack of towels on it. Step two, fill the tub and add plenty of body wash. Step three, decide what angle to shoot my video from.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this but he asked for it. I scroll through my saved music on my phone searching for just the right thing to play. When I find a jazzy little number that I think will be easy to strip to I cue it up and prop the phone on the towels. I adjust and tweak it until it’s lined up with the head of the tub where I plan to stand for my strip tease.

  I’ve never made a sex video before. It’s a pity I’ll be alone in my first one.

  It’s hard to look sexy and sultry when all I want to do is laugh but I have to make this epic. I press play and roll my neck to loosen up and allow the music to take over.

  With my back to the camera, I look over my shoulder and blow Marcus a kiss and let my satin robe slink down my arms onto the floor.

  I sway my hips in time with the music and slide my hands out of the camera's view between my legs. Bending slightly at the waist, like I’ve seen strippers do, I smooth my hands up my thighs around to my ass and slip my fingers under the edge of my skimpy bikini bottoms. I work them down slowly until the excitement of the moment makes me brave and I kick them off.

  Bare from the waist down I untie the strings of my top and swing it around a couple of times before dropping it on the floor.

  Okay, it’s do or die time. I turn around, face the camera and step into the water. The music stops and I bend over and plump my breasts between the tops of my arms for maximum cleavage effect. Smiling innocently, I submerge myself into the hot sweet smelling bath.

  “Mm, this feels so good,” I moan. Now comes the good part. I wrap my hair in a knot on top of my head so he will have a clear view of my face when I come for him.

  I close my eyes and imagine that my hands are Marcus’s. I pinch and roll my nipples until they’re stiff peaks bobbing on the surface of the foamy water. He may not be able to see below the edge of the tub, but my soft sighs and moans will be enough.

  I slide my hand under the water over my flat tummy, past my belly between the folds of my aching core. I wish it were Marcus’s hand sliding over my sensitive bundle of nerves again and again, teasing my nipples and bringing me to orgasm.

  I only have to think of Marcus and I come undone. I arch my back and grip the edge of the tub for support. I think of Marcus stroking his long hard cock and brace my feet on either side of the faucet when I come.

  “Oh God, Marcus, Marcus…” My muscles seize, and I’m momentarily paralyzed with ecstasy until Marcus’s pounding on the bathroom door makes me jump. I sit up quickly and slosh water all over the flo
or.

  “Imani! Are you OK? What’s happening in there? Open this fucking door, now!” I look straight into the lens and burst out laughing before sinking under water to hide.

  He will break down the door if I don’t hurry up and open it. I hold my breath until my lungs burn.

  “IMANI!” Bang, bang, bang!

  “I’m OK, just a second. I’m in the bath, hold on!” He shouldn’t be getting so worked up. His blood pressure is probably through the roof.

  I hop out and dry my hand off quickly before pressing the button to stop the video. I take a towel from the stack, wrap it around me and open the door dripping wet, sated and a little guilty.

  My outlandish enraged husband is standing in front of me, panting. A think layer of sweat covers his forehead and a vein in his neck is bulging out so far I’m afraid it may burst. Fuck.

  “I’m OK, I’m OK, shush. Shit, I can’t get this right, I keep fucking up.” I curse to myself.

  “What?” His hands are all over me checking to see if I’m hurt.

  I brush them away. “I said I’m fine.”

  “Why were you yelling my name then? You sounded like… I thought you were…”

  “Having an orgasm?”

  His eyes bug out, and he steps back still and quiet. “Yes, or in pain. I wasn’t sure.”

  “I wasn’t in pain, I was having an orgasm.” Although having to do it alone in front of a camera was almost painful. My God, I need him. “Lie down, I’ll be right back.”

  He doesn’t budge so I gently shove him toward the bed. “Trust me, lie down and I’ll show you what I was up to. I promise.”

  He turns his head and looks at me suspiciously out of the corner of his eye and for the first time I don’t think he knows what I’m thinking.

  Have I always been so predictable that I was making it easy for him? Maybe that’s the key to keeping him on his toes and allowing me to have a secret or two.

  “Go on,” I say and he retreats back into bed while I go and grab my phone.

  I can feel him burning a hole through my back with his stare as I text the video to his phone and pat myself dry.

 

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