The Cowboy's City Girl - An Enemies To Lovers Romance

by Emerson Rose

  Externally he appears calm, but I sense an elevating irritation in his eyes as they dart back and forth between mine.

  “I’m not saying you’ve lost your mind.”

  “Then what exactly are you saying?”

  “I feel something with you.”

  “As I do for you,” he interjects, misinterpreting what I’m trying to say.

  “No, I mean I have strong feelings for you that I haven’t felt for any man before. I’m afraid of losing you.” He’s not getting it. I can tell from the blank look on his face that he has no idea what I’m talking about.

  “What if this isn’t you?” I whisper lowering my eyes to the floor.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what if that damage has changed your personality so much that you’re someone else. Not the person you were before the accident.” I’m failing big time to explain myself.

  “You’re fond of me, this me,” he says patting his chest “I know you are, so why does it matter if I’m different? Which I am not, by the way. You are not making any sense, Imani. Are you sure you aren’t the one with a head injury?” he says, tapping the side of my head with his finger.

  I smile briefly and return to my grim thoughts. What if I’m wrong? What if my fears are unwarranted? What if he is the same and he really does just care for me?

  I’m planting a seed of doubt and uncertainty in his mind that could lead to me losing the only man I’ve ever desired.

  “I don’t know why I’m worrying so much. I’m a nurse, I tend to think about things clinically. I’m sure you’re fine. Don’t mind me. So, what did the doctor say about your plan of care?” I say, pretending to perk up to hide my fear.

  “Nothing. Because there’s nothing wrong.” His penetrating eyes search mine for honesty, and when he can’t find it he accepts the front I’ve put up.

  “Alright, now that you have your test results we can forget about all of that and concentrate on more important things.”

  “What could be more important than your big brain?” I ask.

  “Oh, Imani, I have other big parts that are far more interesting; let me show you.” The smirk that heats my core spreads across his face while he intensifies the effect with a wink.

  I abandon any thoughts of an alternate Marcus as he pulls me over him on the couch so that I’m straddling his hips. I feel his rock-hard cock twitch between my legs as I lower myself down on him.

  “See?” he says, grabbing my ass and aligning my core with his bulging cock. A lake of wetness pools between my legs, our mouths collide, tongues searching, demanding, and claiming each other.

  Marcus gathers my hair behind my neck to twist it around his wrist pulling my head back to expose my neck.

  Panting, I close my eyes and move my hands under the hem of his shirt, sliding them up his hard abs, exploring his smooth chest.

  His body is borderline obscene. When he pulls away and releases my hair, I open my eyes to protest. No need, he is only making space between us to gather his shirt and pull it over his head.

  He wastes no time doing the same with mine. My blood is pounding in my ears as he removes my bra. I hope like hell he’s not saying anything to me right now. His words are falling on deaf ears if he is.

  Pressing my naked, warm breasts against his bare chest, a sigh escapes me. He groans, thrusting up against my greedy sex while he begins to trail a path of kisses down my neck to my shoulder and down to my breast.

  A tug on my hair gently controls my position on his lap. He lowers me until my back is against his thighs. He sits up and curls around me, licking a circle around my navel and following my treasure trail to the waist of my jeans. His hands feather along the tender flesh of my upper arms and down over my taut nipples.

  I arch my back and whisper, “More.”

  He slides his free hand under my back, lifting me until we are face-to-face and chest-to-chest again. He places a soft kiss on my lips and nuzzles my cheek with his nose. I feel him smiling against my cheek

  “What?” I whisper.

  “I have never had to ask for help removing a woman’s clothes before; I can’t fuck you properly. I’m a little incapacitated here...”

  “Oh,” I say, and sit up straight. “Stand up,” he says, nudging his hips against mine, and it’s all I can do to remove myself from the heat of his body, but I manage because he is going to fuck me properly.

  The rush of my blood in my ears has died down enough that I notice music playing softly around us. It’s similar to the music from this afternoon at Dominus; erotic and slow with a woman singing Eastern European lyrics.

  I stand over Marcus with the hot fire warming my back, and for the first time in my life I feel beautiful and cherished. I feel the power of being a woman in control of a man’s heart.

  Never before have I associated power and sex in a positive way; it’s always been the opposite. These feelings are irrefutable. I can’t hold back another day, another minute, another second.

  Marcus reaches up to unbutton my jeans. I place my hands on his and shake my head back and forth. He drops his hands and his face twists in confusion. I smile a wicked smile and begin the process of unbuttoning and peeling them off myself leaving my new panties in place.

  Nearly bare, I kneel to remove his jeans, never taking my eyes from his. Dark lust floods his bright green eyes turning them black when he recognizes my need for control.

  The glory of Marcus Castillo naked is unmatched by any sight I have ever seen. I reach around him on both sides, taking two of the huge pillows off the couch and gently prop his casted leg on them.

  My hair blankets my body, hiding it before he brushes it out of my eyes with his fingers and gathers it behind my neck, baring me to him.

  I rise from my knees, never losing contact with my skin he slips his fingers into the edge of my panties and drags them down my legs.

  With his eyes closed his hands travel the length of my legs from my ankles to my ass where he stops to pull me astride him again. I hover over the tip of his steely length, every muscle in my body trembles as I grip his shoulders and sink down, impaling myself on his throbbing head slowly, stretching to accommodate to his size.

  I close my eyes as I take him completely inside of me. I pause and feel him twitching within my walls. A guttural moan from deep in his throat escapes.

  “You’re so tight, you feel so fucking good, Imani,” he says, through gritted teeth. “Take your time, don’t move until you’re comfortable.”

  I nod my head yes and let my body acclimate itself to his. A few moments later I nod my head again and he grips my hips digging his fingers into my flesh, reining in his desire.

  He guides my hips upward until I am suspended just over the tip of his thick cock. I inhale with anticipation and follow his gaze to where our bodies connect. We watch together as he eases me back down.

  The sight is erotic and burned into my memory forever.

  He’s holding back for me, trying to allow me some comfort, but that’s not what I want.

  I push against him, driving him deeper, and that’s all the permission he needs.

  We begin a steady rhythm that we continue for a while, sliding up and down on his cock, gripping each other tightly, Marcus takes my mouth in a deep, winding kiss.

  I whimper and murmur, “I’m going to come.”

  “Wait for me.”

  Wait? He may have super human control over his body, but I am much less experienced. I have no idea how to wait.

  “Can’t,” I cry, and with no alternative but to follow we spiral down into ecstasy together, every part of my body convulsing as he spills into me. We cling together trembling in a spiritual connection that brings my life into perfect focus.

  The heat of the fire burns my back and sweat trickles between my shoulder blades. Flashbacks of what we just shared race through my mind searching for a permanent place to rest where I can easily pluck them out and replay them, often.

  “You still concerned abo
ut my brain?” he asks, panting.

  I can hear the smile in his voice. I peel myself from his chest until we are nose-to-nose with my hair sticking to our sweaty bodies.

  “You were right. You have another big part of your anatomy that I’m much more concerned with at the moment.”

  “Told ya.” He winks.

  “So, along with always getting what you want I suppose you’re always right, too?”

  “You’re a quick study with a smart mouth. Just so happens that is a favorite combination of mine.”

  “Glad to know I please you, Mr. Castillo.” I lift myself off of his semi-hard cock and reach out to help him up. “I can’t believe we just did that with you in a cast. I’m a terrible nurse.”

  “It did not hinder my performance one bit, and by the way you are the best nurse I know. On a scale of one to ten, you were a perfect ten, baby.”

  Twenty-One

  I gather up our clothes, and we can make our way back to the bedroom. “What about the fire?”

  “It’ll go out,” he assures me.

  “You don’t worry about sparks singeing the carpet or setting us all on fire? That thing is a monster.”

  “Nope, never gave it a thought actually.”

  “What about your staff? You didn’t seem too worried about anyone interrupting us this time.”

  “I didn’t see any concern on your face either.”

  “It crossed my mind.”

  “You don’t have to worry about us being interrupted ever again. That’s been taken care of,” he says, with a coolness that makes me cringe inside for Mr. Black.

  I snuggle down under the comforter next to Marcus after I’ve helped arrange a nest of pillows around us. His leg is elevated and his body is propped to the side so that he’s facing me. I am feeling beyond content and blissfully happy when I realize that in the heat of the moment we failed to use protection. I pop up in our nest and grab his arm.

  “Oh my God, Marcus, we didn’t use protection.”

  He chuckles and answers, “I was wondering when you were going to realize that.”

  “How can you be so calm? Shit, I’ve never had to worry about birth control.”

  “And you still don't. I can’t have children, Imani. I always use condoms with the women I sleep with. It didn’t seem necessary with you given your history.”

  “You, you can’t have kids?”

  “No.”

  I don’t know why this is such a shock. We’ve only known each other for a minute, and it’s not like we’re getting married or anything. I never planned on having children, but I never planned on meeting someone who made me feel like Marcus makes me feel either.

  I relax with the knowledge that there is no pregnancy scare and snuggle back against Marcus’s warm, naked body.

  I wonder how many women there have been? I said he has always uses condoms with the women he sleeps with. A Russian proverb I heard once comes to mind.

  Love and jealousy are sisters.

  Do I love Marcus? The thought of him in another woman’s arms makes me very jealous.

  Has he ever been in a serious relationship? Was she like me? Was he involved with Megan? And why can’t he have children? I need to quit torturing myself with questions like this. Of course he’s been with a lot of women; he’s gorgeous and rich. I don’t have to like it, though.

  “You ok?”

  “Yeah, that’s just a lot to take in, I guess,” I answer quietly.

  A long silence follows, and I think he’s gone to sleep when he speaks again.

  “Do you? Want kids, I mean?” he asks

  “I never planned on having children, no… I’ve never been able to allow a man close enough to even consider it. If you were able to have them, would you?” I ask.

  “No, I would fuck them up.”

  I prop myself up on my elbow to see him better and sigh.

  “I can’t argue with you on that because I haven’t known you long. But from my limited experience, I think you would make a great father; you’re disciplined, driven, loving, and generous.”

  “Well, thank you for the vote of confidence, Imani, but as you said you don’t know me well.”

  I sag with the realization of his statement, and he senses it.

  “You do, however, know me better than any other woman has. I have never brought a woman into my house or my bed. You are the first, the only, and the last.”

  The importance of his words stuns me, and I try to cover my shock with playfulness.

  “But I don’t count; you employ me. I’m just a lowly servant here to please you, Mr. Castillo,” I say, batting my eyelashes.

  He takes my chin tilting my face up to his.

  “Don’t. Ever. Say. That. You count. You have no idea how much you count.”

  He looks away from me into the dark room. I sit stone still and try to make sense of his sharp, stern words. When I can’t, I burrow back into his side.

  “Why haven’t you brought anyone here?” I ask.

  “I have never wanted anyone to have that kind of access to me. I can fuck anywhere.”

  “Oh.” I guess there’s nothing to say about that. I do wonder if I’m only here because of my employment. It doesn’t feel that way to me.

  He told me he feels a connection between us, and he’s shared details of his past with me, but it’s hard to believe he’s never brought a women home to his bed.

  Maybe it’s not that strange. I’ve never taken a man to my apartment or my bed. We certainly have some fucked up shit in common.

  “I’ve never had a man to my place either, or in my bed,” I admit.

  “I figured as much,” he says, stroking my hair and kissing me on the top of the head. “Pass me a sleeping pill, will you?” I ask.

  “I thought you were my nurse,” he teases.

  “Well, I can get up and walk around to your side of the bed, open the bottle, and hand you one if you like,” I say, as I play to move away from him he tightens his grip on me.

  “You will not go anywhere,” he says, passing me the pills and a bottle of water from the night table.

  “Thank you.” We medicate ourselves to fight off our respective demons and lay waiting for the effects of the drugs in the soft light of his night table. “Do you ever shut that light off?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “I think it’s because I like to know where I am if I wake up.”

  “You think?”

  “Amnesia, lady, remember?” He says, tapping his temple.

  “Just how much of your past do you remember?” I ask.

  “Bits and pieces of my adult life and all of my childhood, unfortunately. The biggest gap seems to be the past ten years.”

  “That has to be disconcerting.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “All the ghosts of the past…” I murmur, stroking his chest absentmindedly.

  “Ghosts?”

  “I have ghosts that haunt me from my past that I would like to forget. I think you do, too.”

  “Mmm, more than you could ever know.”

  Quiet follows his comment, and I really want to ask him about his ghosts, but I don’t want to pry and I have no idea if he even remembers what he’s afraid of.

  I have faith that he will tell me when he’s ready, if he’s ever ready.

  I wake for the second day in a row tangled in Marcus’s arms with his cast poking me in my thigh and my hair wrapped in his fingers. I begin working myself free when he speaks, startling me.

  “What’s on the agenda for today, Miss Jefferson?” he asks me in his deep sexy scratchy morning voice.

  “Well, I need to go home and get some things. I also promised my sister I’d visit her and my niece. I can’t stay here forever you know.”

  Yes, I could, very easily, but I do need my things if I’m staying here for a week, and I’d really love to stop by my sister’s house.

  Maybe Marcus would come with me? Is it too early to introduce him to my family? Wha
t are they going to think of me dating the man I’m supposed to be working for? Am I dating him? Sleeping with, yeah, but technically I have no idea what to call what we’re doing.

  I wonder how he’s going to take this news after manipulating me to stay by his side every single second since waking up from his coma. I have to go; this compulsion to be near him is overwhelming, but I need to put my foot down…if only for a little while.

  “How long will you be gone?” he asks.

  I sit up and stare in surprise, eyes wide, searching his for an explanation for this three hundred and sixty-degree change.

  “You’ll let me go? Just like that?”

  Little frown lines form between his eyes. “Of course, you’re not a prisoner here. I would never hold you against your will. You seem surprised. I am not the big bad wolf; you can go whenever you please,” he says, cocking his head to the side.

  “Well, it’s just... big bad wolf?” Does he know about his nickname? “Never mind.”

  He bites his lip, and I swear he’s suppressing a laugh.

  “Ok. When are you heading out? Do you have time for breakfast with me?”

  This is bizarre. He’s been having panic attacks trying to keep me from leaving him and now he’s just letting me go? And offering me breakfast before I leave?

  I’m not complaining. Well, maybe I am, just a little. I have to admit it’s been flattering having such a successful, beautiful man so infatuated with me. But I have a life outside these castle walls, and I can’t put it on hold forever.

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll have breakfast with you, and I’ll help get you cleaned up and dressed of course.”

  “I don’t need you to do that. I’ve got the bag over my leg in the shower thing down and using these crutches isn’t as hard as I thought.”

  His reply is very businesslike, different somehow, or is it just me not handling this semi-rejection well?

  “Sounds like you don’t need me here after all.”

  I can’t believe I just said that. He could send me packing back to my ICU job according to the contract he had drawn up. And now that it’s a possibility, I’m feeling that familiar trepidation about leaving Marcus again.