Unexpected Heat: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Sarah J. Brooks

  I nibble on her ear, and she sighs. I discover more sensitive spots as I kiss and nibble.

  My hands go under her dress and graze over her thighs as our mouths find their way to each other again. She’s wearing a thong, and I grip the thin material and gently tug at it. She gasps.

  As we dance, I guide her to the wall. “Put your leg around me,” I tell her.

  She lifts her right leg and wraps it around my body. I open my zipper and pull out my enlarged cock. I pull her thong aside and nudge her entrance with the tip of my cock. Her pussy is so wet it soaks the head of my cock in juices.

  “I want to have you now, Mila,” I growl.

  “Fuck. Yes, Brad. Fill me up with your big cock,” Mila says.

  She says things that make me feel ten feet tall.

  I push my cock in. “Lift your other leg.”

  I grip her thighs firmly, holding her up against the wall, and then I begin thrusting into her. I stare at her gorgeous face as I fuck her. Her lips are slightly parted, and her eyes are shrouded in passion. Her hands wrap around my neck. With every thrust, I go deeper.

  She is all I want at this moment. All that I desire. My cock is merciless, jabbing into her over and over again. I know she can take it.

  “More,” she gasps, and I pump harder. I slam into her over and over again.

  “Is this what you need, Mila?”

  “Fuck, yes.”

  Her pussy is a real live entity on its own. It pulses and grips my cock. Rough sensations sweep me along, and I fuck her as a man possessed. Mila starts to whimper, and I know that she’s about to come.

  “Yes!” she screams. She bites her lower lip and throws her head back as the orgasm rocks her.

  I watch her, taking in how sexy she looks when she’s coming. Her pussy contracts, squeezing my cock until I come, the orgasm shattering every bone in my body. It rocks us both, and we cling to each other.

  Mila goes limp, and I carry her to my bedroom. I lay her gently on the bed and then pop into the bathroom and return with a washcloth. I clean her up, and when I go back to the bathroom, I clean myself up too. I pull off my T-shirt, and butt naked I go back to the living room and turn off the lights and pick up the clothes we dumped on the floor. Sometimes, Isaac wakes up early, and I’d hate him to find Mila’s things on the floor.

  Back in the room, Mila has slipped inside the covers, and I join her and spoon her. My plan to speak with her comes to my mind, but after a wild fuck is hardly the time to bring it up.

  She turns to face me. We stare at each other under the moonlight streaming in from the window. I stroke her cheek and smooth her hair back.

  “I never thought it could be this good,” she says softly.

  “It’s never been this good for me either,” I tell her. She brings out my wild side, and I’m glad it’s the same for her.

  “My pussy is sore,” she says.

  “Do you want me to lick it better?” I ask her.

  “Tempting,” she says. “Maybe later. I’m just enjoying lying like this with you.”

  If you’d have told me last month that in a few weeks’ time, I’d be fucking a woman every single night, I’d have laughed in your face. Good things happen when you least expect them. I place my hand on her thigh and caress it, just because I can.

  “You’re the sexiest woman I know,” I tell her. I trail my finger down her cleavage. Lazily, I play with her nipples. I love how quickly they harden, becoming even larger.

  “I love your tits,” I tell her.

  “They love you too,” Mila says. “My nipples are already hard for you.”

  They are. I slide down the covers until my mouth is adjacent to her tits. I pop a nipple into my mouth and gently suck it and swirl it around my mouth. I’m insatiable where Mila is concerned. She sighs deeply as I move to the next one.

  “That feels so good; I hate to stop you,” Mila groans and then looks down at me. “I really need to say something.”

  Her tone is solemn. I reluctantly let go of her tits and come up. She bites her lower lip.

  “Hey,” I tell her. “You can tell me anything.”

  She smiles. “It’s not the nicest thing to say especially after such wonderful sex, but if I don’t tell you now, my courage will disappear.”

  “You’re not leaving, are you?” I say.

  She laughs. “Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to Isaac… or his dad.”

  “If it’s not that, I can handle anything,” I tell her. “I’m the man whose wife walked out of our marriage and life. I can take any bad news.” Except that my stomach forms knots of dread. I really like Mila, and my days have taken on a new meaning with her in them.

  “I told you that the first day that my husband had left me for another woman, right?”

  I nod.

  “It left my self-esteem shattered and a million other things. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m still finding myself.”

  “I understand,” I tell her even if I have no clue where all this is leading.

  “What I’m trying to say is this. Can we make this just a physical relationship? With no expectations. Just two adults who love having sex with each other?”

  Chapter 11

  Mila

  The sun is out, and the sky is a gorgeous sea-blue color. I’m the only one on the stands as most parents dropped their kids off and left. The kids look super cute in their small baseball uniforms and caps. But my eyes are drawn to their coach. His shoulders fill out his baseball shirt very well.

  My gaze goes to his arms—those arms that held me up as he fucked me with powerful thrusts. If he hadn’t been holding me tight, I’d have flown across the room from the power of his plunges. My panties dampen as memories of last night come over me.

  I’ve never done anything like this before. Brad is the kind of guy you fantasize about but you don’t really think you can ever meet someone like him. He’s a selfless lover and always makes sure I’ve climaxed first before thinking of his own pleasure.

  I can’t help but compare him to Clay. Being with Brad makes me realize what a selfish asshole I was married to. And not just in the bed department. Clay had to be the one to decide everything from what we’d eat to where we’d go to what I’d fucking wear.

  Distance has given me the perspective I lacked when I was back home. It doesn’t even feel like home now, and the thought that I’ll go back at some point puts a damper on my spirits. I’m so glad Jessica talked me into coming. It was true what I told Brad last night. I’d forgotten who I was, what I liked, and what made me happy. Clay did that to me, but worse, I had allowed him to. I know enough psychology to realize that my fucked up past has something to do with it. It makes me needy, but I’m determined to live a different life.

  I want to be free to go where I want when I want. As much as I’m enjoying the affair with Brad, I feel in control and powerful to know that I can put an end to it any time. That it’s a choice I’m making to be with him.

  Isaac waves from the middle of the field, and I wave back and blow him a kiss. Now, as for that boy, he can ask me for anything, and I’d gladly give it to him. He’s grown on me. Brad and his wife did a good job raising him. He’s polite and appreciates every single thing you do for him.

  I fish my cell phone out and take a selfie, which I immediately send to Jessica. I send a text along with it.

  Enjoying the day out here in LA. I insert a laughing emoji. Unbelievable, isn’t it?

  Her reply comes immediately.

  It couldn’t happen to a more deserving person. I forwarded it to David, and he sent an envious angry emoji.

  I send her three laughing emoji. It feels good to be alive.

  Half an hour later, and the boys are done with practice. I watch as moms and dads come for their children. Then when everyone goes, I pad across the grass to where Brad and Isaac are gathering their things.

  “I didn’t know you were so good,” I tell Isaac. “Way to go.”

  He grins. “Did yo
u see me hit the ball with the bat?”

  “I did.” I don’t know much about baseball, but I’m determined to learn. It looks like a fun game, and it’s something that Isaac and Brad clearly enjoy.

  A warning bell goes off in my head. Entrenching myself so much in their lives will make me as dependent on them as I was with Clay. There’s a marked difference, the other side of my brain argues. Brad is not Clay.

  That’s for sure. The two men are so different that it’s a wonder that a person can fall for both. As much as I hate the thought, the fact is I fell hard for Clay. Ours had been a whirlwind romance, and within two months, he proposed, and we got married shortly after.

  There had been no parent to urge me to take it a bit slow. Jessica tried, but I waved her off, which had been easy because she and David had got married three months after meeting. She couldn’t exactly counsel me about the risks of getting married to a stranger.

  “How about a pizza?” Brad says.

  “Yes, please,” Isaac shouts.

  “Count me in,” I say.

  It’s a nice feeling being in the empty field. It stretches for miles behind us. It’s as if we’re the only ones left in the world. I wish I could have brought my paint and canvas. Then I remember they are all back home. The plan was to take a break from painting.

  I decided then and there to stock up. I want to paint again. I’ve filled my sketchbook with drawings. I should have brought it along, but Brad doesn’t know I’m a painter. It’s not a secret, but I like being a little mysterious.

  We troop out of the field and head to Brad’s car. After stowing everything in the trunk, he opens the door for Isaac and then comes and opens my door. Tears spring to my eyes. I can’t remember the last time a man opened the car door for me, if ever.

  “Thank you,” I tell him and hop in.

  The pizza place is fairly crowded, but we make a beeline for a table where the occupants are about to leave. Isaac and I sit down, and Brad goes to order the pizza and drinks.

  “Can I go and play?” Isaac asks, his eyes glued on the colorful play area in the corner.

  “Sure, why not? I don’t think your dad will mind.”

  And sure enough, as soon as Brad comes with our food, Isaac tries to eat as quickly as he can.

  “He wants to go and play,” I tell Brad.

  He chuckles. “Slow down, or you’ll end up in the ER rather than the play place.”

  It’s nice to do something as simple as going out to eat pizza. In my other life, Clay and I rarely went out to eat or do anything, really. He didn’t like how other men looked at me. I didn’t ever see anyone looking at me apart from the usual glances from strangers. The few times we went at the beginning of our marriage were not fun for me either. It was eerie to watch Clay’s eyes darkening by the minute and his attention on the people around us.

  It feels so good now to just sit and chew on the delicious pizza with no worries that Brad will get upset if another man looks at me. I feel like an adult for the first time in years. I chuckle at that.

  “Can I go now?” Isaac says.

  “What about your milkshake?” Brad asks him.

  Isaac sips from the straw. “I’ll drink the rest of it later.”

  We laugh at the speed in which he gets off his chair to leave. He walks in through a small gate, waves at us, and disappears in a toy house.

  “So, what did you do back in Wyoming?” Brad asks me. “You weren’t a nanny, were you?”

  I throw my head back and laugh. My life back home was as removed from my life here that if someone who knew me saw me now, their jaw would drop.

  “You’re right,” I tell Brad. “I wasn’t a nanny.” I pause to think about my answer. “I dabbled in art.” Not quite a lie but not the whole truth either.

  Brad’s face lights up. “Really? I like art too, but I’ll be honest, I don’t understand some pieces.”

  I laugh at that. Abstract art confounds a lot of people.

  “There’s a small gallery on Diamond Street, do you want to stop by tomorrow afternoon?” Brad says.

  He looks so cute, his head tilted to one side as he waits for my answer. I wish I could capture him like that on my phone camera. It would be the perfect picture to send Jessica. She’s constantly asking me to send her a pic. I’m no paparazzi. Brad would know I was taking it. How would I explain that?

  “What about Isaac? He’d get pretty bored in an art gallery.”

  “Debbie has invited a few kids to her place tomorrow afternoon. We can drop him off on our way.” He makes it sound like a date.

  I smile. “I’d love that.”

  My heart pounds like crazy. It’s foolish, but I like the thought of going out on a date with Brad. I haven’t gone on a lot of dates. I wasn’t one of the popular kids in school. I was sullen and unapproachable. It was deliberate. With an unfriendly face, no one approached me. One glance and even the friendliest ran off scared. Having friends meant that at one point, they would come to your house. Plus, we were shuffled from different homes so many times; there really was no time to make friends.

  I love art galleries. I love the silence, but mostly, I love the array of paintings on the walls and stands. Sometimes, I’ll come across a piece that is so beautiful it makes tears fill my eyes. Or a piece that just confounds my senses, and I’ll stand there staring at it until it begins to make sense.

  I forget myself in an art gallery. When Clay and I were married, art galleries were the only places I could go without him hounding me. I’d stay for hours. He’d go with me sometimes just to make sure I was actually going where I said I was. After fifteen minutes, he’d get bored and tell me to find him at home. That’s when my fun began. I studied each piece for hours before moving on to the next.

  “Great.”

  We sit and stare at one another. I wish he was my boyfriend. The thought pops into my mind, and I almost gasp. I can’t believe I would think something like that when we have the perfect relationship. It’s undemanding, and either one of us can end it at any time.

  Why would I think something so ridiculous?

  “You’re very beautiful,” Brad says.

  My heart skips a beat. He has never told me that in broad daylight. Sure, he says it a lot of times when we’re in the throes of passion. But anything goes during those times.

  “Thank you.” My voice is shaky.

  Isaac comes back to the table, a huge grin splitting his face. “It’s so much fun.” He grabs the straw and pulls on his milkshake.

  “Ready to leave?” Brad teases him.

  “No, Dad! Please.”

  “I’m teasing,” Brad says and ruffles his head. Isaac’s hair is thick and dark. It beckons a person to ruffle it.

  He grins at us and then leaves.

  “I don’t understand how she could have left him.” I realize too late that I’ve said that out loud. My hand flies to my mouth as if I can pull back those words. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “It’s fine,” Brad says, a sad smile on his face.

  I want to kick myself for that. He was so cheerful earlier, and then I go and say something that pulls him back into painful memories.

  “I’ve asked that myself countless times.”

  We sit quietly, watching the kids in the play area and sipping on our bottles of water.

  Chapter 12

  Brad

  Mila looks so hot in a flowery sundress that shows off her tanned shoulders. She sashays from her house to the car, and my eyes are practically eating her up. After we got back from eating pizza, she went back to her place, and I haven’t seen her since.

  Isaac bounces up and down in the back seat.

  “Hi, guys.” As she slides into the front seat, her sundress rides up and exposes the creamy skin of her thigh.

  “Hi,” Isaac and I echo back.

  I’m wearing sunglasses, and she can’t see my covert stares. The sundress is short, and the sight of her skin reminds me of how delicious she is. My body
warms up in response. I shift in my seat as I try to concentrate on driving.

  We get to Debbie and Collins’ house just as she’s waving off another parent. She comes to the car, and we exchange greetings. Isaac says goodbye and runs to the house.

  “We’re off to the art gallery,” I tell Debbie, and she winks.

  I laugh it off. “Mila and I are just friends,” I say and glance at Mila, who smiles and nods.

  “Well, enjoy yourselves,” Debbie says, and we leave.

  “I like your dress,” I tell Mila as we wait for the traffic lights to change.

  “Thanks. What part do you like best? Show me,” she says, her voice sensual.

  I reach out to touch the hem of her dress. I trace a finger along it, touching her thighs in feather light movements. Her breathing changes and her chest rises up and down.

  She doesn’t move as I trace a finger over her right thigh, pushing the hem of her dress higher. I follow the line of her hip up to the edge of her panties. I face forward but see nothing. All my senses shift to my finger.

  She parts her thighs the slightest bit. I trace imaginary shapes over the mound of her pussy. She shivers slightly. Then simultaneously, honks explode, jerking us back to the present.

  “Shit!” I curse under my breath.

  I press on the gas, and the car shoots forward. Then I become aware of soft, purring noise. I look over at Mila and cannot believe what I’m seeing. Her head is thrown back, her eyes shut, her mouth slightly parted, and her hand on her pussy.

  “Fuck!” I say.

  Her legs are parted, but from where I’m seated, I can’t see a thing.

  “Are you fingering yourself, Mila?” I growl.

  “No, I’m just touching my clit,” she says without opening her eyes. “Just the way you’d do it.”

  Fuck.

  I try to concentrate on the road. “Put one finger in.”

  Mila moans, and I imagine a finger slipping into her slippery wetness. Thankfully, the car windows are tinted as I stop for another traffic light. My cock is now painful, begging for release. I put on the handbrake and loosen my seat belt.