His Takeover: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Piper Sullivan

  He stopped walking, looking down at me. “Don’t be silly,” he said. “I invited you. I said I wanted to buy you some nice stuff. Don’t think anything more of it.”

  We continued walking. Should I let it go, or should I insist? Was he trying to buy me?

  Did I care? Should I care? It was wonderful, being treated like a princess. It had never happened to me before.

  I had always wanted Jack and I to do something like this, but he was always too busy, away with his work, or when in town, uninterested.

  Stop it, I told myself. Leave Jack out of it. Stop thinking of the past, when you are living a dream. With the goddamn sexiest man that had ever walked the planet.

  “Don’t stress, Gemma.” Lance must have seen my face betraying my emotions. “I was paid well with the SEALs, and haven’t spent a lot of it. This is my treat, and I’m not thinking that you should pay me back in another way, if that’s your train of thought. Whatever happens on this trip is because you want it.”

  The words rested between us like a challenge.

  What did I want?

  Staring at Lance with the back drop of the city behind him, it was becoming clearer and clearer.

  Lance

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her, sitting across the table from me that night. She looked so beautiful it almost hurt.

  The blue dress I had bought for her was dark against the creaminess of her skin, pushing her bosom up so that it sat before me like a provocation. If I closed my eyes I could be back under the stars in Wyoming with her, feeling those breasts, squeezing them…

  I shook my head. Focus, Starling. I picked up my wine glass, raising it to her. She smiled and did the same.

  I looked around the restaurant. It was fancy, all right. It had taken me a while to get a reservation here; I had to pull a few strings. But it was worth it to see the look of wonder and delight on her face as we had walked in.

  It was one of those places where you laid your napkin on your lap and counted the cutlery to see which you should pick up for which course.

  Not really my style. I preferred down home places, where the drinks and food were plentiful and the people were friendly. But I could suffer through it for Gemma.

  “You look beautiful,” I told her.

  “Thank you,” she responded, blushing slightly. “Lance, this is so wonderful. I can’t thank you enough. I have never been to a place like this before.”

  “Well, enjoy,” I said, smiling at her. “Order whatever you want. Don’t even look at the prices.” She smiled, turning back to the menu.

  The food was good, of course, but the portions were so goddamn small I could have licked the plate afterwards. I might be ordering a burger from room service later tonight.

  I could tell she was a bit disappointed by that, as well. She looked puzzled.

  “It’s barely a mouthful,” she smiled. Then she tasted it, and her eyes rolled back in her head. “But oh, the flavour is definitely there!”

  We polished off a bottle of their best wine, then ordered dessert. I got a classic crème brûlée, and she ordered something called Poire belle Helene, something I had never heard of.

  “It’s pears soaked in sugar and dipped in chocolate,” she smiled.

  “Hey,” I put my hands in the air in defeat. “I’m just a cookies and milk kind of guy.”

  “That’s okay,” she replied, staring at me with such warmth in her eyes I had to catch my breath.

  I could feel the glow from the wine, and could tell she did, too. I felt like grabbing the table cloth and tearing it to the ground, then lunging across the table at her.

  There were different types of appetites, after all.

  We finished up, and I paid the bill. I had to say I was surprised at how much it was, considering I was still hungry. But I didn’t care. This was for Gemma.

  We started to walk out of the restaurant. I could feel the eyes of two women at another table on us.

  They weren’t talking softly, and we could hear everything they said as we passed.

  “Now, he is gorgeous,” one said to the other, eyeing me. “What on earth is he doing with a woman so big?”

  The other woman laughed, staring at us rudely.

  I looked at Gemma. Her face told me she had heard everything those women had said.

  She turned and ran out of the restaurant, onto the street. I looked at the women. I wanted to give them a piece of my mind. Instead, I ran after her.

  She was on the street, looking forlorn.

  “Gemma.” I grabbed her, spinning her around to face me. “Don’t pay any attention to those bitches.”

  She looked up at me, trying to smile. “I know I’m being silly. I should be used to it.”

  “Used to what?” My fingers tightened on her shoulders.

  She tried to laugh. “Oh, you know, being made fun of because of my size.”

  “Your size?” I looked at her incredulously. “There is nothing wrong with your size! If anyone should be feeling self-conscious about their size, it’s those women. A pair of over made up stick insects, thinking they can lord it over everyone.”

  She smiled a bit wider then. “Stick insects? You have a funny way of looking at things, Lance. Those women are the size we are all told we should be.” She paused, looking down at herself. “They rule the world.”

  I tilted her face up. “Look at me, Gemma. No, look at me! You are beautiful, I love everything about you. Your size is magnificent, I love a woman who looks like a real woman. Tits and waist and ass. You don’t need to feel inferior around them.”

  Her eyes glistened with tears. “You love everything about me?”

  Oops. Had I overdone it? Would she run away, defensive and scared?

  “I love everything about you,” I repeated, staring into her eyes. It was only the truth.

  She sighed deeply, but she said nothing.

  “Come on,” I said, grabbing her by the hand. “We’ve been to the fancy restaurant. Now let me take you somewhere I think we can relax just a little more.”

  I started pulling her down the street. She didn’t protest.

  I took her to a little bar I knew. I had been there a couple of times on leave.

  It wasn’t in the district of the fancy restaurant, and it couldn’t be called fancy by any stretch of the imagination. But it was a funky little bar, always hopping. The people were always friendly. I thought she could do with a place like that, after what had happened.

  We sat at the bar, and I ordered us some drinks. I looked at her as she sipped hers, and could tell she was mellowing out.

  “You know, it’s funny,” she said, turning to me. “I always had this dream of going to a fancy restaurant in a big city and dressing up. But you know what? Sometimes things aren’t what you imagine.”

  “Very true,” I said, tilting my whisky toward her. “But you have to try. You never know if you’ve never tried.”

  She laughed, finishing her drink. “I don’t think I like places like that restaurant. Too pretentious. The food was great, but I prefer my type of cooking – soul food, big portions made with love. Same as people.” She laughed again, tossing her head back.

  “That type of place has never been my scene,” I admitted. “I’ve travelled over the world, but the best places and the best people are the genuine ones. Real people, living their lives in an authentic way, not putting on airs. That’s why I love Wyoming, and the ranch. It’s real.”

  I reached out, putting a hand on her knee.

  “And so are you,” I whispered. She stared down at my hand, then put her own over it.

  The moment froze, seeming to stretch on forever.

  I became conscious of the music playing. Jimi Hendrix grinding his sexy guitar.

  “It’s your song,” I said. She looked at me, with a question in her eyes.

  “Foxy lady,” I explained, smiling broadly.

  She blushed, laughing.

  “Shall we?” I said, pulling her up from her bar stool. />
  We danced to the song, a bit drunkenly, laughing the whole time. I had my hands on her hips, feeling the movement of them as they swayed to the music.

  It was sexy, and I knew that she could feel my boner as we locked hips.

  Suddenly I couldn’t take it anymore. I just wanted to be with her, alone.

  “Want to leave?” I whispered into her ear.

  She looked up at me, and nodded.

  Gemma

  Lance led me by the hand from the bar. We hailed a taxi, and left.

  The tension was enveloping us like a blanket. We didn’t say a word in the back of that taxi. We just held hands, staring out at the city streets as they whizzed past.

  The bell hop opened the hotel door for us, and then we were in the elevator. Suddenly, Lance punched the console, and the elevator lurched to a stop.

  “What are you doing?” Had he gone crazy?

  He didn’t say a word. He simply grabbed me, pushing me against the wall. I could see our reflection in the mirror opposite.

  He bent down, putting his hands on my legs, then snaked them up underneath my dress. I gasped, arching my head back. He really had gone crazy.

  He found my panties, and simply pulled them down. I felt the wetness coursing through me.

  He took a condom out of his pants pocket, tearing at it recklessly. Then he grabbed me, hitching my dress up. I wound my legs around him.

  When he entered me, it felt like nothing I had ever experienced. He was as hard as a rock, and fit inside me like a glove. He pinned me to the wall, and started moving. Oh God, it was divine.

  I could see us in the mirror opposite, me pinned with my legs wrapped around him, Lance with his trousers around his ankles and his buttocks grinding into me. It was so goddamn sexy I almost came there and then.

  I tried to slow myself, though. It was too good not to.

  I could feel him getting close. He pulled the top of my dress down, so that a breast popped out. He latched onto the nipple, sucking and pulling as he ground harder into me. The sucking on my nipple was tilting me over the edge. I wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

  Suddenly, he gripped me tighter, sucking hard. He let the nipple pop out of his mouth just as he came, grunting loudly.

  My spasms started at the same time. I came so hard I hit my head against the wall of the elevator, but I didn’t even feel it. He slowly released me, and I slid down the wall, dazed.

  Sweet Jesus. It had all happened in a matter of moments.

  Lance put his arms around me. “How are you feeling?” he whispered, biting my ear. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

  “Amazing,” I whispered back. “How on earth did you know that I’ve always wanted to do it in an elevator?”

  He laughed. “Intuition,” he growled.

  We set our clothing right, then he turned to me. “Ready to keep travelling?”

  I nodded, still fogged with the afterglow.

  He punched the console, and the elevator started moving upwards again, stopping at the next floor. The door opened, and an older couple stood there, looking puzzled.

  “That sure did take a long time,” the woman said to us as they entered.

  “We’ve been punching the console for over five minutes,” the man said.

  They both looked at us, but we didn’t answer. I could feel laughter bubbling up inside of me, so high that I could barely contain it.

  I sneaked a peek at Lance, and could see that he was barely holding it together. A grin was twitching at the corners of his mouth. Don’t look at him, I commanded myself, as the laughter threatened to spill out.

  Thank God, it was our floor. The doors opened, and we both stepped out, collapsing in laughter against each other as the doors closed on the shocked faces of the couple.

  It wouldn’t stop. The laughter kept coming like a stream.

  He picked me up, carrying me to the door of the room. He managed to get it open, and he threw me on the bed, collapsing on top of me.

  I had never been so happy in my life.

  I woke up the next morning to see sunshine streaming through the windows and Lance opening the door to room service. I blinked, trying to shake away sleep.

  I glanced down at myself underneath the sheet. Completely naked. I couldn’t remember taking my clothes off.

  Oh, yes. That’s right. Lance had taken them off me, before removing his own and sliding into the bed beside me. We had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, still laughing about the couple in the elevator.

  Another memory surfaced. In the darkness of pre-dawn, Lance waking me with kisses, the whole length of my body. We had made love slowly, aching for each other. I had fallen asleep again after another mind-blowing orgasm.

  Lance wheeled the trolley into the room.

  “Breakfast, my lady?” He asked, pulling the lid away to reveal an array of goodies: eggs, bacon, pancakes, waffles…it looked like he’d ordered everything off the menu.

  He poured me a coffee, bringing it over to me in the bed.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, sipping at the scalding liquid. It felt good, energising me.

  “You sure do look good first thing in the morning, Miss Gemma,” he said, staring at my breasts. The sheet had slid down when I’d sat up to take the coffee.

  I blushed, pulling the sheet up. It was hopeless; it kept sliding back down.

  “There’s no need,” he whispered. “I like to look at you. Don’t hide yourself.”

  I blushed deeper. What would happen, now? We’d had a fantastic night, despite the incident in the restaurant, and the sex had been simply out of this world.

  But I was a big girl, in more ways than one. I knew how things worked. What happens between the sheets, or even in the elevator, is no indication of how things would be in the cold light of day.

  “Let’s be tourists,” Lance said, breaking my reverie. “After breakfast, I’m gonna take you to all the sights in the Big Apple. Have you ever seen the Statue of Liberty, or climbed the Empire State Building?”

  I shook my head. A delighted smile was starting to spread across my face.

  “Well, then, this is what I propose for the day,” he said. “We are going to see all those things and more. We are going to eat dodgy hotdogs from a street cart, and snack on pretzels. I want you to wear your most comfortable clothes. No more hobnobbing down those exclusive streets – we are going to experience the real New York. What do you say?”

  I nodded, slowly. It sounded amazing.

  “Okay, well let’s get started on this breakfast, then.” He got up from the side of the bed, and walked to the trolley.

  I stared after him.

  It was then that it hit me like a brick falling from above, knocking me sideways with the force of it.

  I loved him.

  I always had.

  I was as deeply in love with Lance Starling as it was possible to be with another human being.

  The question was, how did he feel about me?

  Was I just a sexual diversion to him, or, I shuddered at the thought, a challenge? His best friend’s girl that he had always fancied. Did he see me as a trophy, another prize to claim in the ongoing competition between him and Jack?

  I felt the love, probed it in my mind. It was everything; it was the real thing. How I had denied it for so long was a mystery to me. Once it had made itself known, it was so obvious it blinded me.

  But what about Lance?

  Was I, as he claimed, a real woman to him? Or was I simply another notch on his SEALs belt?

  Lance

  I poured myself a cup of coffee and walked to the look out to greet the day. We had arrived back from New York the previous night, and I was beat.

  Too much gallivanting around. I had barely had time to find my feet here, before we had gone on the cattle drive, then the whirlwind trip to New York.

  But it had been worth it. Gemma was opening up to me like a gift.

  I thought back on the New York trip. Overall, it had been a g
reat experience. Gemma had loved being spoilt rotten, it had obviously never happened during her relationship with Jack. The only downer had been those bitches at the restaurant, but I think I made up for that – especially in the elevator. My cock started to tighten at the memory.

  I had managed to tick two things off the list – dinner at a fancy restaurant, and sex in an elevator. It had been an inspired moment. We had created so much heat that elevator had almost gone up in flames.

  I took another sip of the coffee, thinking over what I had to do today. And then I saw her walking toward me, carrying her own cup.

  Beautiful. There was simply no other word. Even first thing in the morning, with her hair scraped back into a ponytail and wearing her work apron, Gemma simply shone.

  This was the woman I wanted to wake up next to for the rest of my life.

  My fingers tightened on the cup. Whoa. Where had that come from? But it was true. This wasn’t just a sexual dalliance, maybe it had never been that. I had wanted Gemma so badly for so long, I could only focus on the seduction of her.

  She was my true mate, matching me in the bedroom. But also in life.

  Could I win her heart, as well as her body? Could she ever forget Jack?

  “Morning.” I turned and acknowledged her, before turning back to the sunrise.

  “Morning,” she answered. The wind lifted her hair slightly, making it dance on the breeze. I reached out and tucked a tendril that had escaped back behind her ear.

  She smiled, looking at me with those huge green eyes that could surely melt the heart of any goddamn man.

  “Busy day?” She took a sip of her coffee, looking over the view.

  “Busy enough,” I answered. I wanted to talk to her about what mattered, her and me. Could we start over, forget Jack? Could she let go of her love for him? But I was mute. The enormity of it overwhelmed me.

  And I was scared. Scared she would shake that beautiful head of hers and say no. That Jack was the only love of her life and that she could never consider me as a replacement in her heart, despite what was going on between us.