Unexpected Heat: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

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Unexpected Heat: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 19

by Sarah J. Brooks


  I remember the way she gripped the chair and the way her body convulsed as she came. No one can fake that kind of reaction. What about the easy time we had at the coffee house afterward, just enjoying each other’s company? She had looked at peace. I remember thinking at the time that she looked like a woman who was well-loved. And I was the lucky fellow who got to love her. I shake my head. It doesn’t add up. Why would Mila be seeing another man?

  What if she’s one of those women who are insatiable? The kind of woman who needs two or more lovers to be satisfied. But what about the character? The Mila I thought I knew was loyal and kind and would do anything to avoid hurting anyone.

  The world seems to have shifted on its axis. Nothing makes sense anymore. I just don’t know what to think. But whatever her reasons are, the fact remains that Mila is seeing someone else. I allow the pain to wash over me. It consumes me, and I wallow in it. My experience has taught me not to fight feelings. They come and go. Even this pain will go. I sit there and make plans. Mila is waiting for me at home. I have to decide how to handle the situation.

  I could confront her and tell her that I know. But I don’t know if I can handle it. I’m not ready to have that conversation with her. Then there’s the matter of the custody. I push away my emotions, which are clouding my logical thinking. I should wait until after the custody case before confronting Mila, but I don’t know if I can do it. It’s too much pain to keep bottled up. I already feel like I’m going to explode.

  The image of Mila kissing a strange man fills my mind. Mila running her soft hands over the faceless man’s shoulders as she likes to do mine. Mila’s sweet mouth wrapped over another man’s cock. Piercing jealousy comes over me, and I feel like punching something.

  What if I had walked into the coffee house and found them instead of Debbie? How would Mila have reacted? Would she have been embarrassed, or would she have raised her chin and looked at me with defiance?

  When I walked in on Brenda on all fours, getting fucked on my living room floor by my neighbor, she had stared at me with a slight smile on her face. As if she had wanted to be caught. Red hot anger comes over me, and I punch my open palm.

  Just as the sudden anger comes, it dissolves, and I feel incredibly sad. I had so much hope for us. Mila had seemed like the perfect woman for me and a mother for Isaac. She’s enriched our lives so much with her infectious joy. Is it all a game to her? Is this something she does often, toying with a man’s heart and then discarding it like trash when she’s done with him? It will take all my self-control not to confront her as soon as I clap my eyes on her.

  I sigh deeply and turn the ignition. The last place I want to go is home, but I can’t stay outside a coffee house all evening. Besides, Isaac is waiting for me. At the thought of my son, my resolve hardens. I would do anything for him. He’s what matters in all this.

  It doesn’t matter how much Mila hurts me. I’ve been hurt before, and I will go on. But one thing that I’m sure of is that I’m done with women. I’ll never open my heart or home to another woman. I’m done with love. I’m done with being taken for a fool.I’m clearly not one of the lucky ones who manage to find their soulmates. My goal now is to raise my son to be a happy and responsible adult. My heart pounds as I steer the truck into the driveway. I turn off the key and get out of the car slowly. I feel like I’ve aged by a hundred years in the last two hours.

  “Dad! You’re late,” Isaac says as soon as I walk through the front door.

  “I’m sorry, son. I was a little late leaving work,” I say.

  Mila is right behind him. I refuse to meet her eyes. I cling to Isaac and hug him until he wriggles out of my arms.

  “Brad?” Mila says coming toward me.

  “Hi, how was your day?” I say.

  My tone must have alerted her that something is wrong. She drops the hands she had outstretched to hug me. “It was fine thank you. And yours? Are you all right?”

  No, I’m not fine. My brain screams. How can you have been pretending to have feelings for me all this time? I trusted you with my heart, and you trampled on it.

  “I’m fine,” I say instead. “I could do with a shower, though.” I can’t bear to look at her or be in the same space with her without saying anything.

  “Okay,” she says in a small voice.

  I feel her eyes boring into my back as I walk away. I fight to keep moving. One foot in front of the other. In the privacy of our bedroom, I quickly strip off and enter the shower. I close my eyes as the water hits my back. For a few glorious minutes, my mind is empty of any thoughts. Then the sound of a door opening and closing breaks the silence in my mind. I open one eye just in time to see Mila sliding the shower door open and stepping in.

  I pretend not to see her and turn away. I pour shower gel into my palm and rub it onto my head. My mind is attuned to her, and I’m tense as I wash my head. I think quickly. I’ll ignore her until she gets the message.

  Except I don’t factor in what Mila’s touch does to me. She wraps her hands around my waist, and my cock stiffens. I try to remember that this is the woman who has betrayed me. Her hands massage my belly, and her tits rub against my back.

  Her hands explore my chest as if it’s the first time she’s touching me. She scrapes my skin with her nails, and I inhale deeply. I fight the feelings she invokes, but soon, my breath comes out in gasps like a drowning man.

  Then it hits me. Mila is like any other woman that I’m attracted to. No different. I’m starving for her, and she can satisfy me. I can use her for what I want without my feelings being involved. I’ll fuck her as I would any other woman. It doesn’t matter that she hurt me. I’m done with feelings. It’s just sex.

  That decided I turn around, turn the shower off, and take her into my arms. Her body is soft and malleable and melts into mine. My gaze meets hers. Her look is questioning. I lower my head to taste the softness of her skin. She smells so sweet.

  Tenderness comes over me. I push it away. This is a woman who will not think twice about kissing another man while she is with me. There are no feelings involved for both of us. I palm her nipples, just the way she likes it; a soft moan escapes her lips.

  Her hand wraps around my rock-hard cock. I bring my mouth to hers, and I feel as if I’ve come home. I wrestle with myself. I remind myself who Mila is. I’m determined to take my pleasure from her without involving my feelings.

  “Brad,” she moans when I break the kiss and take her nipple into my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the hard peak.

  Mila croons as I take the other one into my mouth and slip my hand between her legs. Her pussy is wet and dripping for me. My woman. The thought forms before I can stop it. No! She’s not my woman. She’s just the woman I have sex with.

  I slip a finger into her hot tight pussy and grip her ass cheek with my other hand. I circle her clit with my thumb, and juices pour out from her pussy. Her hand strokes my cock up and down, and with the other, she caresses my shoulders.

  Mila. Her name flashes through my mind. I push it away. All I need to remember is what she is. She’s a cheater. A disloyal woman. Just like Brenda. But she’s hot and sexy, and I need her to fulfill me sexually. I want to pleasure her too. We can take pleasure from each other.

  I withdraw my fingers and squat before her. I part her thighs and place my tongue where my fingers were. Mila hisses and grips my head as my tongue slides into her pussy. I lap at her pussy and suck on it. Mila widens her legs to give me better access. I plunge my face into the curls of her pussy and then push my tongue inside her pussy. She lets out a small scream.

  “I’m going to come, Brad,” she says.

  “Not yet,” I tell her, speaking for the first time. I get to my feet. “Turn around.”

  I need her to face away when I fuck her. I don’t want to see her sweet face twisted with pleasure. I don’t want to wonder if she wears the same expression with some other man. Does she scream his name when he fucks her? Pain spears my insides.

  I force
myself back to the present. Mila holds the wall and bends slightly from the waist. I caress her ass cheeks. She’s got the perfect figure. Too bad, her character doesn’t match her physical form.

  I position my cock at the entrance of her pussy. I slip a hand between her ass cheeks to her pussy folds. She’s more than ready for me. I don’t plunge into her as I normally do. My movements are slow and controlled. Bit by bit, I push my cock into her pussy, ignoring the urge to fuck her hard.

  “Fuck me, Brad,” Mila says. “Do it hard.”

  Her words inflame me, and I work my damndest to control myself. I grip her hips and thrust in and out rhythmically.

  “Fuck yeah,” Mila cries.

  Her pussy trembles and clenches my cock. She writhes and pushes her ass into my cock. Her whole body begins to tremble, and I know she’s coming. My thrusts become harder and faster. Before too long I’m coming too. I shudder and growl as cum shoots from my cock into her pussy. When it’s over, I slide my cock from her pussy and turn the shower back on. Mila straightens and stares at me.

  “Are you all right?” she says. “You seem different.”

  I swallow a lump in my throat. I want to take her in my arms and kiss her tenderly. Except those are the kind of things that people who care for each other do. Mila and I are fuck buddies. No feelings.

  I harden my heart. “I’m fine.”

  Chapter 36

  Mila

  Something is off with Brad. After making love, we usually cuddle and joke around with each other. Brad likes to tease me about how insatiable I am. Now, he’s pulling on his shorts and T-shirt without speaking.

  “That was hot,” I tell him.

  “Yeah.”

  I’m not wrong. He’s giving me one-word answers. Fear comes over me. I don’t want to lose him. I go to him and wrap my hands around his waist. His body is stiff and unyielding.

  The reaction I know from Brad is an instant hard-on when I touch him. He would turn around to touch me while complaining of how impossible it is to resist me. Whatever is wrong is serious. I feel myself getting desperate.

  “Hey, you’re not yourself.”

  He doesn’t respond. Instead, he gently pries my hands from his waist. “I need to get dinner started,” he says and steps away from my embrace.

  Hurt, I can only stare at him. He leaves the room without glancing at me once. Tears fill my eyes. What is going on? Is he tired of us? Is that it? If so, he should just come out and say it rather than treating me so coldly.

  I dress slowly, misery coating every inch of my skin. What is it with men and me? I can never get it right. I wrack my brain for what might have happened to make him this way, but I can’t think of anything. We had a glorious night and morning.

  Dinner is a tension-filled affair. Brad does his best not to look at or talk to me. Frustration wells in my chest. I want to scream at him and shake him until he opens up. After dinner, Brad insists on washing up, and I’m forced to sit alone in the living room as Isaac goes to his room. I feel like a guest who has overstayed their welcome. Unwanted.

  Brad comes to the living room fifteen minutes later. I look up at him, hopefully. Immediately my heart falls. He wears the same closed expression.

  “I’ll put Isaac to bed,” he says and leaves without once glancing at me.

  Sitting here alone, it hits me how rich my life has become compared to how it was before Isaac and Brad came into my life. I shudder at the thought of losing the family and warmth that I’ve gotten used to. I can’t bear the thought of going back to my old life.

  I can’t bear the emptiness that was my life. I cover my face with my hands. I have to right what is wrong. I’m not ready to lose Brad and Isaac. I just can’t. My heart can’t take it.

  “Goodnight, Mila.”

  I jump. I hadn’t heard Isaac’s footsteps. I smile, open my arms, and he runs straight into them. He smells of shower gel and cleanliness. I kiss the top of his head. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

  I have tears in my eyes when Isaac leaves. I’ve come to mean something to him, and he, in turn, means the world to me. I would love to see Isaac grow up. I want to play a part in the kind of young man he’ll become.

  When Brad returns to the living room, it’s to tell me goodnight.

  “I'm going to read in bed,” he said. “Do you mind turning off the lights when you’re done here?”

  “Sure,” I tell him trying to sound strong.

  Brad treating me like a stranger hurts more than I can say. I swallow a lump in my throat and watch his broad shoulders as he walks out. Shoulders that only a day ago I had access too. A body I could run my hands over whenever I wanted. Now without words, access has been denied. It’s as if a wall has been built between us, and nothing can bring it down. Not even making love. After we made love in the shower, I’d hoped that Brad would open up to me. If anything, he had acted even colder.

  I sigh deeply and push myself to my feet. I turn off all the lights, and with heavy feet, I make my way to our bedroom, though, at this point, it feels like Brad’s bedroom.

  He barely glances at me when I enter or even when I strip off and wear the nightshirt I’ve worn only once. He keeps his attention firmly on the book that he’s reading. I slip into the covers on my side of the bed. I shut my eyes. My brain can’t shut off.

  I turn to face Brad. “Can’t we talk about it? What can be so bad that it can’t be resolved?”

  He’s so still I think he didn’t hear me. Then he turns, and my breath hitches. His face is twisted with agony.

  I sit up in bed. Something is very wrong. “Brad, what is it?”

  His eyes harden. “You’re going to pretend that all is well with us? That you haven’t betrayed our relationship?”

  His words shook me to the core. Clearly, he’s accusing me of something. Something that I know nothing about.

  “Okay then, if that’s how you want to play it, then fine. I’ll lay it on the table for you.” His voice is rugged and angry. He drops the book on the side table with unnecessary force. He turns back to me. “Debbie saw you in the coffee shop downtown with a man. A man that kissed you, so please don’t bother with the excuse that he’s a relative.”

  At first, I have no idea what Brad is talking about, and when I do remember, I want to slap myself.

  “So, it’s true?” Brad says.

  I meet his gaze. I have done nothing wrong except lie by omission, but Brad seems to believe that I cheated on him. I try to imagine the chain of events that led to this moment.

  “Debbie told you that she saw me in the coffee shop kissing a man?” I ask, my voice edged with steel.

  “She told Collins who told me about it today at work,” Brad says, his tone daring me to accuse his friends of lying.

  “And that was it. I was put on trial and sentenced without a chance to defend myself?” I ask.

  “What possible explanation can there be for you kissing another man?” Brad says. His voice brings down my anger. He’s hurt and in pain.

  I remember something that explains his quick judgment. His ex-wife. Brenda cheated on him. The moment he heard that I’d kissed another man, his mind went into overdrive.

  “I did meet a man, and yes, he kissed me, but it wasn’t reciprocated. That was Clay, my ex-husband. He wanted to meet, and I now know that was a mistake, but I agreed to do it.”

  “Why?” Brad says.

  “I thought if we met face to face, I’d convince him to leave me alone once and for all,” I tell Brad. “He’d been texting me, and I was fed up with it. I just wanted to move on with my life.”

  The hurt on Brad’s face has been replaced with concern. “Why didn’t you tell me that he was harassing you?”

  I drop my glance. “I didn’t want to burden you with my problems.”

  He hooks my chin with two fingers and lifts my face. “Your problems are mine, Mila. You’re my wife.”

  Hope swells in my chest.

  “As long as you’re my wife on paper, you’re unde
r my protection,” Brad says. The unsaid lies unspoken between us. It’s temporary. He’ll protect me as long as I’m still his wife.

  “I spoke to David, that’s Jessica’s husband, and he convinced Clay to leave me alone and go back home.”

  “Until when?” Brad says.

  “We’re done. He understands that now,” I tell Brad. That’s what I got from Jessica. She didn’t want to talk about Clay, but she did assure me that David got through to him.

  “You must promise me something,” Brad says solemnly. “You can’t keep things from me, Mila. It won’t work between us if you do that. Promise me. Don’t worry about burdening me. Let that be my problem.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “Good.”

  My marriage to Clay taught me a lot of things, one of which was that problems ought to be nipped in the bud before they become full-sized and unmanageable. Perhaps if I had stood up for myself, Clay’s bullying would not have gotten so bad.

  “I need you to promise something, too,” I tell Brad.

  “Tell me.”

  I inhale deeply before speaking. “If you ever hear something about me, give me the benefit of the doubt. Ask me. I’m not a liar or a cheater, Brad, but I do know it will take time to trust me. But please ask me first.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have asked you,” Brad says. He runs his fingers through his hair. “I just lost my mind at the thought of another man kissing and holding you.”

  It shouldn’t please me, but it does just the slightest bit that the thought of anyone else touching me drives Brad crazy. It shows that I’m not the only one whose feelings have grown exponentially.

  “We can kiss and make up now,” I tell him and scramble up to his lap.

  Brad pulls back the covers as I wrap my hand around his neck.

  “Are you naked under your nightshirt?” he asks.

  “I might be,” I reply coyly.

  His hand snakes up my thighs to my pussy. I slide my hands into his hair. I moan loudly when his fingers come into contact with my folds. Brad brings his mouth to mine, and we kiss.

 

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