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Make Me Forget: an Enemies to Lovers Romance by Monica Corwin (2)

Last Call

Murphy

I prayed to every god I could think of that she couldn’t see my hands shaking. I released the silver clasp, and just to avoid her eyes, bent down and shucked my boots and jeans to the floor. This was the most naked she had ever seen me and I her. All I wanted was to drop to my knees and trace the rise and fall of her skin with my lips, if only to remember where the birthmarks were, and the freckles and the scars. So when I recalled this moment, I would have all the details I could possibly get. I didn’t fear us; I feared who I would be after we tumbled over this line.

She reached out, finally no longer fighting. I could see the resolve in her eyes, nothing there but bare want and a sadness she didn’t know she carried around her like a gray cloud. I don’t make her wait. I stepped back into her arms and pressed her hard between my body and the wall behind.

Some part of me still needed to hear it. That she wasn’t doing this out of a primitive need, but because she wanted me, if only in some secret part she refused to admit to. “Tell me you want this, Mara, and I’m all yours.”

She swallowed like I’d asked her a question in the middle of a drink. With a frantic nod, she answered, “Yes, I do.”

Her eyes were on my body, and I was glad I gave her something to look at compared to the hardened men she saw all day in uniform. How could a grungy barkeep from nowhere stack up to medals of valor?

I brushed her still wet hair away from her cheeks and bent down to taste her again. The first time had been to shut her up. This time was all for me. I parted her lips with my tongue, anchored one hand in her hair and the other at her chin. Her moan almost broke me. The slight little brush of breath and sound melted every bone in my body and shot my cock to attention. Each charge and retreat spun tight the web of my feelings for her. I’d pushed them down deep so long ago. Now, with her nails marking me and our lips battling for dominance, they overflowed. In a hundred years, I’d never get enough of her. Mara Williams was my addiction. Not the vice I wanted, but the one I needed as much as oxygen or water.

She severed the kiss with an arch of her neck, releasing her head back and crushing my fingers against the wall. I didn’t dare move, though, not with such lovely access to her long, elegant neck. I dropped my mouth to the curve of her throat and kissed a breathy trail from clavicle to chin. Her hips shifted forward as if she were unwittingly trying to get closer, eliminate any distance between our bodies. The lingering scent of the hotel soap wafted from her clean skin.

I jerked her head back up by the hair, and her eyes snapped open. No fight there, almost a submission. An unexpected turn I could definitely play with. “On the bed, now.”

She blinked once, twice, but to my surprise, said nothing, simply stepped around me and perched on the edge of the bed. It squeaked with her minimal movements. In another life, we might play a game and try to make as much noise as possible. Or maybe I wanted the world to know this woman belonged to me, even if only for tonight. I’d waited long enough for the chance.

I stepped up, and her face sat inches from my cotton-covered hard on. If she were a woman I’d fucked before, I’d have taken myself out and invited her lips for a taste. But this was Mara, and I didn’t want to scare her too soon. “Do you want to see it?”

She swallowed heavily enough I could hear it, see it, and then she nodded almost desperately. I bent, pulled my boxer briefs off, and tossed them on top of my clothes. My dick was so hard, it ached. I palmed it, trying to slow down my reaction to her, my body’s response to every beautiful inch of her skin I still needed to see more of. Her eyes burned into me as she watched me stroke myself.

I released my cock, not wanting this to end sooner than I planned, and stepped closer. “Take off your clothes. This is happening.”

She let out a soft snort of laughter, and then she stripped her t-shirt off and shimmied out of her gray panties all while still sitting on the edge of the bed. I took my time looking her over. Her skin was bronzed to her mid-bicep and around her neck, but pale and creamy everywhere else. A farmer’s tan she’d gotten on deployment. It didn’t matter, I’d worship every part of her the same.

She licked her lips and scooted up the bed to lay on the pillow. It broke my heart the way she folded her hands across her smooth flat belly as if prepping for a medical exam. What the fuck kind of men had she been with before me? Ones who fucked on clean sheets, in the missionary position, on Tuesday’s? Anger shimmered through me. She deserved so much better than ordinary.

“Get your ass back down here. This will not be clean. This will not be civilized. And this will not be something you can lie back and take.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but I didn’t want to risk another argument. I gripped her ankle and yanked her toward me. She spun in the bedspread before sitting up and scooting my way with a huff. Good, now she was pissed. I wanted that heat, that fire. The sparring we’d done for the last ten years of our lives became foreplay for this moment. I wanted Mara aching and angry and all for me.

I captured her face in my hands and kissed her with years’ worth of pent up frustration. It was almost an assault, but she took to it. Her hands grasped my forearms, her short nails digging into my skin. Even her lips ground as forcefully against my own so hard, our teeth scraped. We broke apart with a pant.

The fire returned in the set of her chin and a lock in her jaw I knew well. I shoved her back on the bed and grabbed a condom from my pants. She didn’t move, and when I returned, I stared down at her, a soft shade of pink dusting her skin now, anger still sparking in her eyes.

I reached down and cupped her pussy in my palm. Oh, she was ready and wet. I met her eyes, but she glanced away like she didn’t want me to see what I might find there.

“Look at me,” I snapped.

Her eyes locked on mine, and I caught why she hid her gaze. The anger remained, but the need almost eclipsed it. I battled against my own body’s reaction to the open necessity there. Instead of pumping my cock in my fist, I gently rolled down the condom and gave her one last chance to escape.

“Last call, Mara.”

She licked her lips and sucked on the bottom one. As her white teeth scored her skin a little pinker, I took that as an answer.

I lifted her hips and tossed her back a few feet, so I could kneel between her open thighs. She watched my every move like an angry animal waiting for its perfect time to strike. I pulled a pillow and shifted it under her hips and then yanked her thighs on top of mine. “How long has it been?” I asked.

She shrugged, now having no trouble locking gazes with me. “What do you care? This isn’t civilized remember.”

I slapped the side of her ass and enjoyed her yelp in response, before aligning my cock with her entrance. Languidly, I traced her seam with the head of my dick, another stolen moment just for me, and then I thrusted home.

The way she arched up as if her body attempted to orbit mine almost made me come right there.

One thrust.

The tight hot grip of her. A tremble began somewhere in my knees.

No.

I closed my eyes, blocking out the sight of her lost in pleasure to recall the bar’s top shelf liquor bottles in a line: Ciroc, Grey Goose, Bulleit.

Once I gained control, I stared down at her, my hands clutching her hips tight, and I didn’t even realize. Her head thrown back, hair awash around her face. She sucked hard on her bottom lip, and her fists were tangled in the messed up covers.

I pulled out of her body with reluctance, only doing so because I wanted it as good for her. I pushed back in, bracing against the white-hot pleasure, and out, timing each movement with her panting sighs and glorious moans. The soft wet heat of her gripped me in liquid warmth like I never knew I needed.

After a minute or two, she let out a frustrated pant. “Stop fucking playing games, and fuck me.”

I trailed my hand up her belly, past a cluster of pale scars above her belly button, to cup a soft breast. Not much bigger than my palm, but I didn’t mind. Her body folded in for me at the shoulders, offering itself to my touch. I plucked one puckered pink nipple before returning to her pussy and thumbing her clit.

Her exhale pushed out hard and fast. When she sucked in another breath, my fragile control fractured.

I jerked the pillow away—the crash of glass somewhere signified it landed—and shifted forward so we lay flat, her knees up around my hips. I could look into her hazel eyes now and see every single thing she tried to hide.

“Is this what you want?” I whisper an inch away from her lips, wet, shiny, inviting. I thrust in and surged forward, hard and brutal. It had to hurt her, but she didn’t show it.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and her small hands scratched at my shoulder blades. All I could do was watch her, until the first pull of her orgasm struck me. Her pussy clutched tight around my cock, and I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. I kept my lips close to hers, reveling as each of her exhales mingled with mine.

Instead of trying to hold off, I changed the angle to rub my cock up across her clit. Then I took up a furious pace. Hard and fast and hateful. Skin slapping against skin, and the harsh pants she pushed out with each thrust were the only sounds in the room.

I held out until she finished. Her body’s grip on me softened only slightly, and then I let loose, pounding into the woman I’d secretly loved for a decade and unleashing my own orgasm a few seconds later. As I drifted down, floating, the room came back into focus, the woman in my arms, the slow, lazy heat of my skin from the exertion.

Damn. I wished we’d done this sooner. Stopped fighting and started fucking a long time ago.

She trailed her fingers down my shoulders, and I witnessed how her face changed and softened. It hurt in my chest to see. How long had I wanted her to look at me like that? All it took was some booze, a panic attack, and an angry screw. We were the odd match.

I shifted off her hips and slipped out of her reluctantly. It took so much discipline not to go back and start all over again. Instead, I grabbed a warm rag, cleaned myself up, and then got one for her too. She’d rolled on her side while I went to the bathroom, and the beautiful curve of her waist and hips and thighs struck me dumb in the doorway.

“What?” she asked, warily lifting her head from her outstretched arm.

I shook my head and brought the cloth for her. I didn’t ask permission. She would have said no anyway, so I parted her thighs and pressed the hot cloth to her likely sore body, and she let out a groan. Unexpected.

Once I’d cleaned her up, I tossed the rag away and climbed up on the bed behind her. Every decision I made felt like a death risk. Like any second, she’d turn back on the attack mode, and I’d have to flee for my life.

I took the chance and slid up behind her body, spooning her against me. She didn’t protest, only jerked the covers up over us and let out a long sigh. Time passed, and I began to drift in and out.

“Murphy.” Her voice brought me back.

“Mm…” I managed.

“That was really nice of you. And if you ever tell anyone it happened, I will castrate you.”

I let out a chuckle, eyes still closed. “Good luck, Little Girl. I’m rather attached to these parts, and by the way you were moaning, you’re rather fond of them too.”

Then nothing until a beam of light broke across my face and dragged me from a dead sleep.

I reached out for Mara first, but the bed lay empty beside me. My heart sank with the knowledge. I’d gotten her for one night, and all it did was make me want her more.

I shifted off the bed and dressed quickly. The room smelled like her, and I needed out.

Now.

Before I opened the door, I spotted a piece of paper on top of a $5 bill.

The paper read: Here’s your tip. Thanks for mine.

Underneath the words, she had scrawled an email address. Hers, I assumed. Was it an invitation? Or like a contact in case of emergencies?

I made it to the bar next door, still staring at the paper in my hand all the way across the icy parking lot. Once I got to the back door, another piece of paper, this one taped, fluttered in the cold morning wind. I jerked it off and stared down at Mara’s perfect script.

Because I know you, that email address is for you to use. And I don’t consider any dick pics from you unsolicited.M

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