For a second, I can’t think. All I can do is stare at her sexy behind as water cascades over it.
“I thought it would be easier to clean,” Mila says in a sexy voice.
“It will,” I tell her, my voice hoarse and barely audible.
I go down on my knees until my face is on par with her behind. I part her thighs further and stare at her pussy as if studying for a test. Juices and the water make it gleam, and I reach out and insert a single finger.
Her pussy has a life of its own. It gobbles up my finger as I begin to slowly pump. With her pussy, Mila clenches and unclenches my finger. I add another finger, and she lets out a soft cry. As I finger fuck her, I tongue her clit, and she shakes and writhes from the different sensations.
Every few seconds, I blow on her pussy, and she inhales sharply. I nibble on her sensitive inner thighs. Juices continue to gush out of Mila’s pussy, and I get an insatiable urge to sink my cock into her folds while she is bent over. I’ve never fucked her in this angle, and I quickly get to my feet but keep my fingers in her pussy.
I position my cock at her folds before slowly sliding inside her. It takes her by surprise. I hold her hips to keep her in place. This time, there’s no rush. I move in and out excruciatingly slowly. Her pussy wraps around my cock.
I close my eyes and savor the sweetness of fucking my woman slow and easy. Mila meets my soft thrust by pushing back her ass. I lean over her back and reach down to cup her tits. I don’t stop my slow, easy thrusts as I pinch her nipples.
“Fuck me harder,” Mila says.
I grin, knowing that my slow thrusts are making her desperate. I straighten up and grab her hips again, but I do not change the pace of my thrusts. I withdraw my cock completely before slowly thrusting in again.
I withdraw it again, and Mila shakes her ass to urge me to return my cock to the warmth of her pussy. Unable to resist her gorgeous ass, I spank both her ass cheeks and the movement causes a ripple in her pussy.
“Oh God, I’m going to come,” Mila screams, and I grin.
I do it again. I spank her ass cheeks simultaneously, but this time, I don’t wait for her reaction. I want her to come. Now, I thrust hard, our hips slapping together. I’m glad for the sound of running water because Mila lets out a scream that makes the walls of the cubicle reverberate. Her loud noisy orgasm drives me to my own release, and I shoot cum into her pussy. When it’s over, I rinse her off and then turn off the shower.
“That was hot,” Mila says shyly as I towel her down.
“Which part?” I tease her. “The spanking?”
“I’ve never had anyone do that to me before,” she says.
“I’ve never done that to anyone before,” I admit.
We stare at each other and share a moment of understanding. We’re so comfortable with each other that we can try new things with each other. It’s a good feeling. I kiss her gently on the lips.
Chapter 28
Mila
“I’ve missed you so much.”
I grind to an almost halt at the strange voice. Then it hits me. Brad’s mom is here. I groan internally. My mother-in-law arrived when my husband and I were making love in the shower? I look down at myself and cup my cheeks.
Does it show? Do I look like a complete slut? I smooth down my shorts and inhale deeply before stepping into the living room. I’m eager to meet Brad’s mom.
“Ah, there you are,” Brad says and beckons me to his side.
His mom is a petite woman with dark hair and sharp eyes. They quickly roam over me, and for a few seconds, I feel exposed. As if she can tell what her son and I were doing a few minutes ago.
“Mom, this is the beautiful woman I was telling you about. My wife, Mila,” Brad says, sounding so proud that I smile despite my nervousness.
His mom lets go of Isaac and closes the distance between us. She shakes my hand and smiles. The smile does not reach her eyes. Without being told, I know that she has disliked me on sight. Anxiety and gloom settle in my stomach.
“This is certainly a surprise,” she says and then smiles at Brad. “But a good one. It’s not right for a man to raise a child alone.”
Brad grins. I’m happy that he’s happy.
She wags a finger at him. “I haven’t forgiven you for not inviting us to the wedding.”
Brad’s smile disappears, and he looks nervous. “It happened so quickly, Mom. There was no time to invite anyone. Mila and I just wanted to be married.”
She doesn’t respond to that.
“Where are your things?” Brad says.
“Oh, I already took them to my room. The same one that Brenda gave me. I hope that’s okay.” The words themselves are innocent, but the message is communicated clearly. Brad’s ex was the real daughter-in-law.
Hurt feelings settle in my chest. It feels awful to be disliked for no reason. It also doesn’t make sense for me to want her approval, and yet ours is a fake marriage. Her feelings towards me shouldn’t matter, but they do.
“I’ll go and unpack while you two see to lunch,” she says. “Come, Isaac, keep your Nana company while she gets settled in.”
How long is she planning to stay? The minute that thought forms in my mind, guilt floods me. She’s Brad’s mom and has every right to stay as long as she wants.
“What do you think?” Brad asks as we head to the kitchen.
“You certainly don’t resemble her,” I say.
Brad laughs. “I take after my dad in looks. I know you two will get along. Mom can be stubborn, but her heart is in the right place.”
I make non-committal noises.
“Seeing her just made me realize how much I missed her.”
“What happened?”
We decide on spaghetti bolognese for lunch and begin preparations.
“She bought Brenda’s bullshit.” Brad’s voice is harsh. He inhales deeply. “That’s in the past; I should just let it go.”
My heart squeezes at the hurt in his voice. I want to wrap my arms around him to protect him. I pause from dicing onions and squeeze Brad’s arm.
“Brenda said that I neglected her and that I wasn’t much of a husband to her,” Brad continues. “That work came before my family. My father had made that mistake, and when Mom heard that, she decided I take after my father. I’d told Brenda about that period when my parents had differences and they almost parted ways.”
I shake my head even before he finishes the sentence. Brad is simply not that kind of a person. He loves Isaac with all his heart, and I imagine he loved his wife the same way. I also can’t believe that Brad’s ex-wife would use the information given in confidence for her own selfish benefit.
“She never gave me a chance to explain,” Brad says and then adds cheer to his voice. “But that’s in the past. She’s here now, and she’s apologetic about that period. She took the fact that we’re married well, didn’t she?”
I shoot him a smile but keep my counsel. Brad has just pinpointed what has been bothering me. For someone whose son’s marriage came as a surprise, she was awfully calm about it. As if she already knew. The more I think about it, the more it seems to me as if she came for that very purpose. Because Brad has a new wife. I have a feeling she’s not here to make friends with her new daughter-in-law. I swallow a lump of saliva. Her motive doesn’t matter. Our marriage is fake, so whether she likes me or not is irrelevant.
Why then does a ball of anxiety settle in my stomach?
“You don’t think she knew about our marriage before you told her?” I ask Brad.
He shakes his head. “She would have blurted it out on the phone when she called me. It took her by surprise. That, I’m sure.”
His words reassure me somewhat. After all, it’s his mother. He knows her best. Perhaps I got carried away by my own fears. The poor woman probably has no issues with me. I do have a tendency to think the worst of people, especially when I really want them to like me.
“What’s your father like?” I ask Brad.
; “Serious. He takes his responsibilities seriously. He’s retired now but still wakes up before dawn and gets dressed,” Brad says with a chuckle. “Retirement doesn’t suit him at all.”
The smells of frying onions fill the kitchen. I’ve chopped up the rest of the vegetables, and I hand them to Brad to pour into the cooking pan. Our hands brush, and a slow sensual heat rises from the point of contact. My chest rises up and down.
Brad is dangerous. I’ve made myself vulnerable to him. What if when he gets custody, he asks me for a divorce? Where would that leave me? Broken-hearted again. I don’t want to think about that now.
We finish cooking and set the table. Brad and I work well together. It’s as if we can communicate without actually exchanging words.
“Right on time,” Brad says as Isaac and Mrs. Bennet enter the kitchen.
The two giggle. I look at Isaac and his grandmother and happiness bubbles in my chest. Mrs. Bennet clearly loves her grandson, and the feeling is mutual.
Over dinner, Mrs. Bennet updates Brad about the family and friends of the family.
“We’re boring Mila,” Brad says after a moment.
“Not at all,” I say quickly. It’s nice to listen to Brad and to watch his movements without looking as if I’m staring.
“Stella still asks after you,” Mrs. Bennet says with a sly smile.
“Well, you’ll have to tell her that I’m taken,” Brad says and places his hand over my arm. That protective gesture warms me all the way through.
Brad’s mother giggles. “I don’t think that would be enough to stop her.”
“Mother!” Brad says.
She laughs. “I’m sure Mila understands that a man doesn’t stop being attractive just because of a ring on his finger.”
“It’s fine,” I quickly say. They’ve just reconnected, and I don’t want to be the reason that Brad and his mother disagree again.
The rest of dinner passes uneventfully, and Isaac excuses himself to go and play.
“I’ll wash up while you ladies get to know each other,” Brad says, looking at us with hope and love shining from his eyes.
“That would be lovely,” Mrs. Bennet says.
Dread fills me as I follow her to the living area. My feet feel like blocks of cement. I don’t want to be alone with her.
“So,” she says when we settle on different ends of the couch. “Isaac tells me you and my son met when you moved in next door.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Wasn’t that a little fast?” she says. “Couldn’t you two have taken a little more time before getting married?”
A headache is coming on. I want to tell Brad’s mom that I’m an adult, and so is Brad, but I hold my tongue. I smile noncommittally in response. Her questions are rude, but I pretend it’s normal for a married woman to be grilled by her mother-in-law.
“He still loves his wife, you know.”
I gasp. I’m not sure I heard correctly. “What did you say?”
“You heard me,” she says, her voice soft. “He still loves his wife, and he will go back to her.”
My breathing comes out ragged. I look around wildly. Then I gather myself. “His ex-wife you mean?”
“She won’t be for long.”
Brad chooses that moment to walk in. I feel sick. Nausea rises in my throat. I want to blurt out to Brad what his mother just said to me. But common sense wins, and I keep my mouth shut.
I look up and meet Mrs. Bennet’s stare. A shadow of fear hovers in her eyes. She’s waiting to see if I’ll tell Brad what she just said. Seconds go by, and when she realizes I have no intention of saying anything, she shoots me a triumphant smile.
“How are you ladies getting on?” Brad says.
“Fabulously,” his mother says.
I manage to nod and smile. Brad is a wonderful man and does not deserve to have his mother and wife fighting each other. I’ll hold my tongue and wait it out. She can’t stay for more than a few days. I can handle her meanness for a few days.
“How about a walk to get the digestion going?” Brad says.
“Fabulous idea,” his mother says and jumps to her feet. “I’ll go get Isaac.”
When her footsteps disappear, Brad grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet. “A quick kiss for fuel.” He brings his mouth to mine, and even though I’m still upset, I open my mouth and welcome his probing tongue.
His hands cup my ass cheeks, and he pulls me tight against him. My hands go to his chest, and before long, I’ve lost all sense of where I am. All I can think of is how hot his mouth feels and the growing ache in my core. Brad’s hands around me make me feel protected and loved. In his arms, nothing can go wrong, and no one can hurt me.
A cough brings me back to the present, and we break apart. Mrs. Bennet’s mouth is curled into a frown.
Suddenly I don’t want to go for a walk with her. I can’t bear the pretense that we’re getting along anymore.
“You guys go along. I have some work I want to finish,” I say.
I ignore Brad’s disappointed expression.
Chapter 29
Brad
I can feel Mila slipping away, and I can’t figure out why. I’ve tried asking her when we’re alone in our bedroom, but all she does is smile and insist everything is fine. I’m growing desperate. She’s distant. The Mila who is open with me is gone, and I don’t know how to bring her back.
Initially, I thought my mother was the cause, but they seem to get along well.
Desperate, I settle on a course of action. It’s not the healthiest way to get information from one’s wife, but I’ve tried every other way. I decided to ask her at a time when she’s most vulnerable.
After dinner, I share a glass of wine with Mila and my mother. Mila’s skin glows, and she looks more relaxed than she has in a couple of days. She doesn’t say much, though, but she does laugh at my attempts to be funny. Afterward, we say goodnight and retire to bed.
In the bedroom, I put on some soft music to mute any sounds we make.
“What are your plans?” Mila asks with a soft laugh.
“A dance, my darling?” I offer her my hand, and without hesitation, she comes into my arms.
We dance, holding each other tight. I inhale the scent of her hair. She’s intoxicating, this woman of mine. I caress her ass and thighs softly. I love that she’s wearing a dress tonight. It gives me better access to her body, which I can’t get enough of. But tonight, I’m going to have to control myself. It’s all about Mila.
“You’re the sexiest woman I know,” I whisper into her ear.
She inhales deeply and wraps her arms around my neck. I go for her mouth and kiss her deeply. All the while, my hands snake under her dress and caress her bare skin. Her movements tell me that Mila is getting as aroused as I am. My hard-on is now jutting out and pushing against my trousers. I ignore the urge to whip out my cock and plunge it into her pussy.
“Let’s go to the bed,” I whisper to Mila and lift her off the floor and lay her gently on the bed. I raise her dress and kiss her thighs and tummy. I sandwich her skin between my teeth and nibble. I help Mila get rid of her dress, and she’s left in panties and a bra. Mila’s hands move to her breasts, and with her eyes closed, she plays with her nipples.
She looks so hot playing with herself. I could watch her all night, but I’ve got work to do here. I arrange myself between her legs and proceed to kiss her belly button and her tummy. She raises her body, and I drop lower to her inner thighs.
“You have an amazing scent,” I tell Mila.
“Mmmmm.”
With my tongue, I trace the edge of her panties. Mila raises her hips. She wants more. I give her more. I lick her pussy over the material of her panties. The scent of her arousal is driving me crazy, and it takes all my self-control to keep my cool. I go as far as pushing my tongue into her pussy, but because of her panties, my tongue doesn’t go far.
“Your pussy smells so good,” I growl to Mila.
“I wan
t you to taste it,” she says and raises her hips and then gyrates them in a way that makes me fist my hands.
I run my hands over her hips and dip my head into her pussy and blow air into it.
“Fuck, Brad. Remove my panties, or I’ll tear them off myself,” Mila snarls.
“Easy, tiger,” I tell her. “I’m in charge here.
She lets out a groan of frustration. I hook my fingers on the hem of her panties and slowly bring them down. Mila raises her hips, and I pull them off her. She immediately throws her legs apart. A demand if I ever saw one.
I should chuckle, but I can’t. My hard-on is painful, and I’m desperate for relief. Seeing Mila’s pussy glistening with juice and not allowing myself to lick it off is worse torture than I thought. I lick her inner thighs and anywhere else except her pussy, which is begging for attention.
“I want your tongue and fingers on my pussy,” Mila finally says.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I tell her. I flick my tongue very close to her clit. She gasps and raises her hips. I retreat.
“Why the hell not?” Mila says.
“Because you’re keeping secrets from me,” I tell her.
Her body freezes.
I swipe at her clit with my tongue. A cry escapes her lips. I know it’s a battle. She desperately wants my tongue on her pussy and will do almost anything to get it. But will she tell me the secret she’s hiding?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please lick me. Touch me, do something,” Mila begs.
I touch her clit lightly with my finger and then trail it to the entrance of her pussy and push just a little of my finger in. I then quickly remove it.
“Please,” Mila says.
It’s time to increase my attack. I get off the bed and strip off my clothes. The plan had been to use my mouth and hands to tease Mila into telling me what is bothering her. But if I don’t do something with my cock soon, it’s going to burst.
I get back between Mila’s legs and grip my rock-hard cock with one hand. Mila’s eyes are glued on my cock. She raises her legs to her shoulders. I arrange my cock at the entrance of her glistening pussy, but instead of entering, I drag the tip over her folds.
Unexpected Heat: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 15