Sexiled: an enemies-to-lovers standalone Page 16

  “So do you, Captain.”

  We pause. “Is that all you’re coming for tonight? Just one kiss?”

  He laughs. “Like I could ever kiss you just once. Once I get a taste of you, April, I need the whole thing.”

  20

  Morgan

  Stars dot the night sky above us. I hear the sound of soft waves and a gentle wind blowing over us as I continue to kiss April, pressing her body into the sand, right where the water comes up to greet the shore.

  Not engaged.

  Ever since my interview with her dad I assumed that she had lied to me.

  Damn. I should have kept in mind the silly joke my brother Michael once made in sixth grade.

  Never assume, Morgan. It makes an ‘ass’ out of ‘u’ and ‘me.’

  Although in this case, it mostly just made an ass out of me.

  Why didn’t I just go with my gut? Why didn’t I just ask her?

  Idiot. I’m a full-blown idiot.

  And I’m an idiot again ten times over for giving into temptation.

  But clear thinking is difficult right now as April’s fingers wrap around my back, underneath my shirt. A surge of déjà vu ratchets through my body, and I flash back to our night in the Bowl back at Greene State University, under the moon, dancing and humming together.

  Do the two of us just have a penchant for storybook-like romance scenes or what?

  My hand rides up her thigh, and this feels like it’s right out of Nicholas Sparks’s The Notebook.

  You know, if he actually wrote the naughty parts.

  “Fuuck, baby,” I groan, and I feel myself growing between my thighs as we wrestle on the sand. Moans and dancing lips and her margarita-soaked mouth.

  A whole new world opens up before me, one where I’m the asshole for not calling her back, and this whole rationale I created for deleting her number was a figment of my imagination.

  Well, not completely. She broke up with her fiancé shortly before she met me? I took her virginity?

  I’m as mystified by April as I’ve been since the moment I met her, but I’m too turned on to keep thinking right now.

  I want this woman with every bit of my heart, flesh, and soul that God gave me, and I’m going to have her.

  “Baby…” I groan, slipping my hand up her dress, feeling her stomach, and sliding it up to her tits. “April. Fuck, I want you on this insane level, so much so that I’m even having a hard time comprehending myself. We’re breaking the rules, and this is a bad idea. But if you want this, I don’t want to stop. So tell me the truth. Do you want me?”

  “So much.”

  After kissing the hell out of her, I pull up, slide off to the side of her body and offer her a devious grin. “Yeah? What do you want me to do to you? What have you imagined me doing to you in the time since we were first together?”

  “All of what we did…and more, Morgan. So much more…I never stopped thinking about you. I can’t explain it.”

  “You were thinking about this, weren’t you?”

  I guide her hand between my legs, where my cock is straining against my khakis.

  Her eyes go wide, and her breathing increases.

  “Yes,” she whispers. Her hand slides up my abs until she puts two fingers on my lips. “And these. I want them again. I want all of you. I want to feel connected like we were that night.”

  “Mmm.” Her touch makes me feral. It’s everything about her. It’s her fresh-scented perfume. The red dress that she doesn’t care one iota about getting dirty, sandy, and wet.

  But mostly, it’s knowing that it’s her, she really was genuine with me on that first night, and maybe—just maybe—I wasn’t crazy for feeling those things I thought about her after one night.

  Maybe my gut is alive and well after all.

  April’s eyes sparkle in the moonlight, and I notice a sneaky expression cross her face. She stands up.

  “Have you ever skinny-dipped before?” she asks.

  I shrug. “Can’t say that I have.”

  As I lie on the sand, propped up on my elbows, I stare at her curvy figure.

  Long, brown, flowing hair. The flesh of her long legs, her gorgeous backside. Her body is a far cry from the waify modelesque women who usually hit me up on Instagram. Her personality is far from theirs, too.

  And I want everything about her.

  Need her.

  She pulls her dress up over her head, then tosses it at me.

  Then she takes off her bra and tosses that down, too.

  My jaw drops, and I stare at her from behind, a feeling of surrealness taking me over.

  “Well, there’s no time like the present. How is your swimming stroke?”

  “I have an incredible breaststroke.” I grin.

  She frowns. “I hope that’s not a joke. Because it’s a really bad one. Race you to the yacht out there?”

  Before I can respond, she’s laughing and giddily running out into the water.

  I pull off my shirt and pants—no briefs tonight—and toss them onto the sand.

  She’s already treading water, watching me.

  “First one to the boat wins.”

  “What’s the prize?”

  “If you beat me, Mr. Bossman, I’ll surprise you when you least expect it with something I know you like…based on our night together, of course.”

  “Mmm. That sounds more like a prize for you than for me.” I grin, remembering how much she savored going down on me that night.

  Maybe she was a virgin—we still need to talk about that—but her blow job skills were definitely not virginal.

  Either way, I sprint into the water and start swimming. She dunks her head into the water and takes off swimming toward the boat, which is anchored a little less than a football field’s distance or so from the shore.

  I take a peek every twenty feet or so to see where she is. First of all, she’s freaking fearless, swimming out this far in the ocean, at night, in the moonlight.

  Second, she’s fast.

  I’m out of breath by the time I almost get to the boat. She’s a few feet ahead of me in the water—almost beats me, but not quite. I dive into the water and pull her back by her foot.

  “No fair!” she giggles, laughing hysterically when she comes up for air, as I get to the ladder on the boat first.

  “Looks like I win.” I grin.

  She takes a few easy arm strokes and meets me on the ladder.

  “Cheater.” She grins.

  “You know what they say. All’s fair in love, war, and skinny-dip races to the yacht.”

  I spin around on the ladder, which is halfway in the water, so I’m facing her. She swims up to me, her gorgeous tits bobbing out of the water as she reaches the ladder.

  “You can’t come on until you give me a kiss.”

  I stand on one of the submerged rungs of the ladder. She moves her body closer to me and wraps her legs around me. The water comes up to about our waist.

  My arms wrap around her and her legs instinctively wrap around me. Our midsections press together, and this is wet and hot and mind-bogglingly spontaneous.

  We kiss, wet, sea-water-stained hair and mouths pressing together. I palm both of her ass cheeks, my cock hard again as she grinds her clit against my stomach.

  She nibbles my ear and whispers. “So does this boat have a bed?”

  Without saying anything, I help her up the ladder, into the boat, and into the bedroom of the yacht. Anticipation rocks through me, and through the dim light on the yacht I can see her pink-streaked chest.

  She lays on her back on the bed. “Do you have a condom?”

  “Yes, of course,” I say, then reach for the box on one of the shelves in the room.

  I reach down and guide the tip of my cock to her opening.

  “You’re not worried about doing this with your employee?” she mutters.

  “We’re not in the office,” I growl. “Tonight, you’re not my employee.”

  I wrap my hand around the back
of her head and guide her ear to my lips. “You’re just the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, the same one I’m done resisting.”

  I press my tip into her opening. As I slide farther inside, she mewls, “All the way, Morgan. God, I forgot how completely you fill me up.”

  Apparently, April and I have a serious penchant for firsts together.

  First skinny dipping.

  First water make-out.

  First sex on a boat.

  Her body thrashes against mine as I take her, and she’s mine again.

  Completely, totally mine.

  “Baby, you’re going to come already, aren’t you?” I say, gauging April’s expression and the way she’s clenching around me.

  “Yes, boss,” she whispers.

  “Come all over my cock. I want to feel you tighten on me. Again.”

  “Yes…” she trails off.

  She leans into me and grips my shoulders as I pump into her with hard, deep thrusts.

  “I’m coming.” Her moans echo through the boat. We hear the horn of a passing boat. I wonder if they can hear us.

  She tightens, pulses, and thrashes wildly.

  “Open your eyes,” I command.

  Her sparkling blues are wide as she comes, slowing her pace down.

  “Did you come yet?” she asks.

  “No, baby,” I say. “Do you want to finish this here, or back at my place?”

  “You’re the Captain.”

  “Here’s good.”

  21

  April

  Morgan’s place is silent when I wake up the next morning.

  As I come to, I take inventory of myself and how I feel.

  No hangover.

  Apparently, a late-night swim, and an hour or so of sex is enough to sweat off the booze.

  We made it back to the bedroom in his loft last night before we passed out.

  However, my clothes are nowhere to be seen.

  Getting up, I open up Morgan’s closet, and he’s got T-shirts, which are huge because he obviously is. There is one shirt that calls my name, however, a dark blue button-down baseball jersey that says Washington Nationals on it.

  I grab my glasses from my handbag and head downstairs, where I hear some music coming through the screen door.

  Morgan is outside, at the grill, totally naked with the exception of an apron that covers his front.

  So yeah, I get a good view of him from behind. The man is absolutely ridiculous, and I love it.

  I slide the screen door open.

  “Good morning,” he says without taking his eyes off the grill. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Shockingly, I’m not hungover.”

  “Must have had something to do with that late-night workout.”

  “I was thinking the same.”

  I come up behind him, and slip my hand around his waist, sliding it down his washboard abs and leaning my head against his back.

  “What are you making?”

  “Grilled asparagus and some sausage. Sound okay?”

  “Sounds delicious.”

  “Inside, grab the plates and the champagne and OJ.”

  “Mimosas? What time is it?”

  “Eleven. Not too early for a little hair of the dog, is it?”

  He pulls the food off the grill and sets it on the table.

  “Last night was fun, by the way,” he says.

  “It wasn’t bad.” I shrug.

  The understatement of my life.

  Morgan smirks. “Yeah. You weren’t bad either.”

  “Be right back, I’ll grab the drinks.”

  I definitely had more orgasms in one night with Morgan than even an average summer with my ex. I’m not sure if that says more about Morgan’s bedroom prowess, or my formerly low standards.

  Standards, by the way, which are now completely ruined by the man casually making me breakfast while naked.

  I head back outside with a drink tray of fresh coffee, OJ, and champagne. Birds chirp, the sun beats down on the area just outside the patio, and I feel like I’m glowing on the inside.

  Is this real life?

  It feels more like a dream.

  I dig into the food, have a swig of the mimosa, and I can’t tell for a moment if I’m still dreaming.

  “You’re quiet,” Morgan says.

  “I’m still processing everything. It’s hard to believe how that happened last night.”

  “It’s hard for me to believe I was holding a grudge against you for being engaged when you weren’t.”

  “Why didn’t you just, you know, talk to me?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. Why didn’t you just tell me about him? I wouldn’t have cared.”

  My heart swirls as the memory of our first day together seeps back in. “I didn’t feel like weighing down our vibe by blabbing to you about my ex.”

  He leans back in his chair, still with his ridiculous apron on. His dimples show when he grins, slightly. “Well, that was a shocker when your dad, in the interview, shows me the picture of you on his desk with what’s-his-face and tells me that you’re engaged.”

  I face-palm, shaking my head.

  He nods. “And I thought, no way in hell I’m messing with crazy. I’ve had enough experience with those types. You’re not crazy, are you, April?”

  “Only in the best ways.”

  He smirks. “Right. You’re so sane, you’d never dare a guy to skinny-dip in the middle of the night, then bang on his yacht?”

  “If these sausages weren’t so damn delicious, I’d throw one at you right now. Also, that’s not crazy,” I add. “That’s just fun.”

  “Right. So tell me about this relationship. How did it come undone?”

  “You really want to know about my girl problems? Slash guy problems.”

  “I want to know everything about you. So, yes.”

  My heart warms. That is something that I never would have heard in a million years from Matt.

  “I was fourteen when Matt and I started dating. Yes, he cheated on me, but in the beginning he was so sweet. My mom had just passed away, and he was just a friend who was there for me. Eventually, he became more than friends, even gained the approval of my father, which seemed impossible.”

  I rub the bridge of my nose and shut my eyes for a moment. “I still cannot believe this is what happened.”

  Morgan nods. “I figured you and your dad would be close after what happened with your mom. So I assumed he was telling the truth…and never called.”

  I cringe. “We are pretty close, but boys—and sex—aren’t exactly a topic we talk about with one-hundred percent transparency.”

  “You don’t say.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’d go so far as to say sex was a taboo topic in our very Irish Catholic household. Everything I learned about sex, I learned either from the Internet, friends, or my mom and what she told me before she passed away.”

  “But you were only fourteen then. I mean, it’s good to learn a little about sex, but it doesn’t start becoming as big of a deal until you’re a little older. For most people, at least.”

  “I know,” I cringe. “Which is why, I think, I was scared of it.”

  He furrows his brow and takes a sip of his coffee. “You were scared of sex?”

  “Still am,” I say, in a way both sarcastic and serious at the same time. “Part of me is surprised I didn’t run off last night.”

  Morgan chuckles. “You didn’t seem too afraid.”

  I slide my hand across the table, and he puts his on top of mine.

  “For whatever reason, you make me feel comfortable,” I say.

  “Not to mention incredibly turned on.” He grins.

  I laugh. “You’re funny.”

  “I know.”

  “And I’ve never felt as comfortable with someone, sexually speaking, as I do with you.”

  “Oh? You didn’t go buck wild last fall?”

  I blush. “No. That’s what you’re here for.”

  A smile qu
irks his lips. “April, I do have feelings, you know. I’m not just some guy you can use for pleasure.”

  “And what if that’s all I want?” I joke back.

  “Then I guess I’ll have to take my chances. I’ll just have to take this opportunity to have all the fun I can with you while you’re here.”

  I waggle my eyebrows and match his smile. “That’s ballsy of you. You’re going to ‘have a little fun’ with the CEO’s daughter?”

  His eyes flicker, and if there’s a chink in his armor of confidence, I don’t see it.

  Heat builds in my core.

  He leans back and continues. “In all seriousness, April, I think you have just about as much motivation to keep this on the downlow as I do, now that I think about it. Especially considering your dad’s sex talk possibly involves a stork.”

  I laugh out loud. “I’m glad you see it that way. Because you’re going to be teaching me everything you know about sex while I’m here.”

  “Um…excuse me?”

  I sip my coffee as I push up my glasses. “See, all the sexual experiences I’ve had up until now have been less than stellar. You’re going to change that.”

  His eyes widen. “You’re…telling me what’s going down with us?”

  “Yeah. Look, it’s not like we’re going to ever fall in love, right? You took my virginity. No girl ends up with the guy who took their virginity anymore, this is the twenty-first century, for goodness’ sake! It’s almost a curse, as opposed to a blessing these days.”

  I’d give three pennies for his thoughts, but Morgan’s face is unreadable.

  I add, “I never told you why I decided to come to your hotel. That’s not something I’d ever imagined myself doing—going to a stranger’s hotel.”

  “Do tell.”

  “All my life, I’ve been the girl encouraging my friends to go out and have great sex with their boyfriends or significant others. My sex life wasn’t as exciting. Matt could occasionally find a needle in a haystack. The two guys I slept with fall term were disappointments, if I’m being totally honest. I could feel our connection in my gut. And you seem to deliver.”

  I want to add, it’s more than that. Matt made me question my value. Made me think I wasn’t worthy of a man with whom I could truly connect.