Falling for You: An Enemies to Lovers Romance
Page 7
“Shit,” I hiss, yanking my hand back from the toaster oven. This is the third time I’ve burned myself in my rush to finish breakfast before Libby wakes up.
She isn’t the best patient in the world, but at least she tried. I know I’d be just like she was yesterday. Wanting to get up and work when I was supposed to be resting. Wanting to make plans and finish just one more thing.
But I’d kept her busy with stories about fixing up the house when I was a kid and allowing her to show me pictures of what else we needed to order online until she’d drift off for a short nap.
Not the best arrangement, but it worked.
I drop the toast on plates and then yelp when I hear her voice.
“Everything okay?”
I whip around to find her standing at the edge of the kitchen, barefoot and in the same shorts and tank top she slept in. Her hair is tangled over her shoulders. I’ve never seen someone look so good after a fall off of a ladder.
“What are you doing down here? You’re supposed to be resting.” I walk straight to her and wrap my arm around her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get back upstairs.”
She resists, and then rolls her eyes. “Carson. I’m fine. I—”
“You need to relax. Rest. Take it easy.”
“I’ve been taking it easy since yesterday.” She turns in my arms and lifts her chin to kiss me on my jaw. “I need to be up, moving around.”
“Libby.”
Her breath touches my cheek. Then she runs her tongue over my bottom lip and I get hard immediately.
“Libby,” I warn again, my voice low.
“I need a little exercise.”
Her breasts press against my chest, and I can feel the peaks of her nipples through her tank top. When her hand wanders, sliding down my abdomen and then lower to palm my dick through my sweats, I groan and grab her around the waist.
She gasps when I lift her, automatically wrapping her legs around my waist as I carry her to the counter.
“There,” I say, setting her down. “You watch, I’ll cook.”
She blinks in surprise as I pull away, and then starts laughing when I grab the spatula. “Wow—you’re really doing it.”
“Doing what?” I growl, because I’m still hard and pissed off that I can’t do anything about it. I don’t want to hurt her.
“This whole…” She waves her hand. “Taking care of me thing. Making sure I don’t overdo it.”
I am. Doesn’t mean I’m not pissed off about it, but I am. She never should have been up on the ladder in the first place—at least not anywhere near an exposed wire I should have fixed a long time ago.
“I’m glad you find it amusing,” I say.
“I find it endearing. Come here.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “No.”
She crooks her finger. “Come on. I won’t bite.”
“You’re going to try to seduce me.”
Her lips curve. “Carson. I just want a hug.”
I scoop up the eggs and set them on plates and then flip off the burner and set aside the spatula. Then I walk to her. She parts her legs so I can stand right up against her where she sits on the counter.
Her arms wrap around my neck, and I breathe her in. Flowers and something else—almost like baby powder. Fresh. Clean. Normal.
It’s all so normal compared to how things were with Denise. She was all about the fast-paced life. She wanted what she wanted the moment she wanted it and didn’t take no for an answer. Half the time it was like walking on egg shells around her because she was so temperamental.
But Libby…she’s steady. Even. With a little spark that’s killing me right now because I’m so hot for her it’s making me uncomfortable.
“Thank you,” she murmurs in my ear.
“For what?” I brace my hands on the counter so I don’t touch her. If I start now, I might not stop.
“For taking care of me. For not making me feel like a moron for falling off a ladder. For breakfast.” She reaches around to pinch my ass and my dick twitches. “And for being so damn hot.”
I chuckle and lean in to give her a soft kiss on the lips. “You’re welcome for all that. I’m…” I clear my throat. Damn. There are words there that want to come out—things I want to tell her—but how? What we have here—what we’re doing is…more serious than I expected.
She touches my cheek. “What is it?”
“When I saw you on the floor yesterday, I thought…shit, I didn’t know what to think. But it killed me. I can’t—don’t want to see you hurt. You mean something to me, Libby.” I finally let my hands rest on her hips. “I don’t want to be with anyone else. Just you.”
“I don’t want to be with anyone else either.” She smiles. “I’m glad you said that.”
“Yeah, well…” I shrug. “It’s not easy for me. Not after what Denise did.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you,” she says. “We might fight or want to kill each other—or maybe even never see each other again, but I don’t cheat. And I promise to tell you how I’m feeling.”
“Shit.” Those words are even better than I expected. And don’t do anything to take away how horny I am for her right now. “Damn it. Fuck.”
Her mouth opens in surprise. “I didn’t expect that reaction.”
“It’s all your fault, Libby. You say these things to me—you do these things to me…” When she reaches out again, I capture her wrist. “Don’t.”
“But I—”
“You’re going to lay back and let me take care of you. I don’t want you to hurt your wrist anymore, so no touching.”
“But—”
“Shh.” I cut her off with a kiss, and then scoop her into my arms. “My rules.”
“Carson,” she says quietly when I carry her through the kitchen and then up the stairs.
“What?”
“I need you so bad.”
I growl and bring her to the bed, remembering to be gentle even though all I want right now is to rip her clothes off and shove myself into her over and over again, giving it to her rough and quick.
But I take my time as I lay her back, as I pull off her tank top, and as I slide her panties down her legs so she’s exposed before me.
That small thatch of curls on her pussy drives me insane, and I let myself breathe her in. I crawl between her legs, kissing each thigh on the way up, and revel in her soft moans.
And when I touch my tongue to her slit, already soaking wet for me, I know she’s mine.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LIBBY
Carson’s tongue is magic. He slides it slowly from my opening all the way up to my clit before he sucks hard. My body jerks, and I squeeze my eyes shut, letting sensation roll over me.
“Fuck,” I whisper. “That feels so good.”
“Be careful,” he warns as my fingers clench on the comforter.
But right now I’m not feeling any pain in my wrist. I’m just feeling bliss. All over. Every inch of me is alive in delicious sensation.
Carson spreads my legs wider so my pussy spreads for him, and dips his tongue inside. I’m so wet, I’m dripping on the bed. But he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down as he uses his tongue and mouth on me expertly.
He drives me to my peak so fast, I can’t catch up. One moment I’m writhing on the bed, and the next my body is taut as it explodes. Fireworks go off behind my eyelids. And Carson just keeps going, making my legs shake, my body quake. So powerful and so intense, I shout out his name.
“That’s right,” he says, lifting his head. “Call my name.”
“Carson—please. I need you inside me. Right now.”
His eyes trail down my body and to the sensitive place he just fucked with his tongue, but he hesitates. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“No touching,” I breathe, holding up my hands. “I promise.”
He yanks off his sweats and boxers and crawls between my legs again. His dick is already dripping with pre-cum, hard and shiny—ready for me.
It’s going to kill me. I know it. I want to yank him to me, squeeze him hard when he fills me and comes inside of me. But I put my hands down, and sink into the kiss.
His lips wander, brushing over my jaw, down my chest and to each pert nipple. My back arches at the feel, wanting more and more of him. I lift my hips, urging him to take me, and he obliges.
He presses his cock against my opening, and then shoves inside of me. One quick movement that fills me full and has me nearly crying out again.
“Tell me how you want it,” Carson says, kissing me again.
“Hard,” I tell him. “Fast. I want you so bad.”
“Me too.”
He starts thrusting, quick rhythmic strokes that drive me crazy. I match his timing, rocking my hips against his to draw out as much pleasure as possible.
“Touch me,” I command.
And he does. He squeezes my breasts, thumbing the nipples, and then running his hand down my abdomen. Teasing me with his fingers so close to my clit.
“Come for me,” I whisper.
“Shit.” I can tell he’s trying to hold on. “Libby—”
“Let go,” I say.
And he does. He thrusts into me hard and deep, and his body tightens. I watch his face as he pours into me, filling me with his hot cum.
Then his body covers mine, his breath against my cheek as he kisses me. “Fuck.”
“I know,” I say with a soft laugh.
In an instant, he’s off of me, rolled to the side and peering down with concerned eyes. “Did I hurt you?”
“Hurt me?” I shake my head. “That definitely wasn’t painful.”
“You sure?” He lifts my wrist gently. “Does it still ache?”
“A little. And not because of what we just did.”
He kisses my wrist, and my heart swoops dangerously. This isn’t normal. These feelings. Not for me. It usually takes a lot longer to fall this hard for someone. But it’s happened already. I’m falling for my intruder.
But Carson breaking into my house was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. Professionally and relationally.
“You okay?” Carson asks, eyes still concerned.
“More than okay. I kind of want a repeat of that.”
He chuckles and gets to his feet. “Not going to happen. You tried more than once to break the rules, so that’s all you get for now.”
I fake pout. “You’re mean.”
“You just got your way and you think I’m mean?”
I roll over onto my stomach and peer up at him. “Maybe you can make it up to me.”
“Maybe—shit. What’s that?” he asks.
I peer over my shoulder, trying to see. “What?”
He crawls onto the bed and then touches a tender spot on my back. I twist even more to see a large bruise forming over my ribs. No wonder it hurt to sleep on that side.
I remember it hurting yesterday, but pretty much everything hurt yesterday.
“Libby,” Carson hisses. “You should have told me about this.”
“I didn’t not tell you—I didn’t know it was this bad.”
“Did you tell the doctor? Did he do x-rays of your ribs? Maybe we should go back—”
“We don’t have to go back. It’s fine. I’m fine. Carson—”
“Fuck. I knew I should have made you stay in bed.”
“Seriously?” I ask, sitting up and pulling the sheet over my lap. “I’m not a little kid.”
“You fell off a ladder—”
“I know! And I feel like an idiot for doing it, but it was an accident. No one’s fault, just an accident.”
My voice softens then, because I realize what I’m seeing on his face. Not anger—or at least not with me. It’s fear. He really thought I was hurt and it scared the shit out of him.
Maybe I’m not the only one falling so hard here.
I scoot to the edge of the bed and tug on his hand so he’s standing in front of me. I touch his chest, needing to have this connection with him.
“I’m really okay,” I tell him. “And I promise I’ll still be careful. I’ll relax and rest. And I’ll let you know if anything hurts. Sound good?”
He angles his head, thinking this through. I didn’t realize how hard this might be for him. He grew up as an only child with a practically single parent. His mom, whom he seems really close to and seems to want to take care of. It’s only natural he wants to take care of me, too.
“You promise you’ll talk to me? Tell me if something hurts or gets worse?” he asks.
“I promise.”
“All right.”
I tug him a little closer, and then get to my knees to kiss him. He puts his arms around me, and I notice he doesn’t touch anywhere near my bruise. I try to coax him into relaxing again by running my tongue along his bottom lip.
“You are way too stubborn for your own good,” he says, though he’s grinning.
“I know. My dad says the same thing. That’s what brought me here—made me buy this place.”
“I can handle a little stubbornness, I guess.”
“Great. Let’s take a shower.”
“Libby.” He sighs and steps back while I laugh. “How about breakfast?”
“Yes. Let’s do that, too. Breakfast and then a shower.”
“You stay here. I’ll bring breakfast up. And then you can take a shower by yourself.”
“We eat breakfast in bed and take a shower together. And I keep my hands to myself.”
He props his hands on his hips, debating my compromise. I have great negotiation skills.
“I don’t believe you,” he says.
“I pinky swear.”
He makes a face. “Pinky swearing is for little girls.” He spits on his hand and holds it out. “We shake on it.”
“Fine.” I spit—barely—on the palm of my own uninjured hand and hold it out.
Carson shakes it and then stalks out of the room, giving me a great view of his ass. I might not be able to touch, but I can definitely look.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CARSON
The long, summer days are getting shorter and even cooling down some. Normally it’d give me that extra push to finish the house sooner. At the rate we’re going, we’ll have the home finished before the holidays.
But this isn’t normal for me. I don’t want the house done. If the house is finished, that means my working relationship with Libby is over, and that’s sure to affect our personal relationship.
After all, if we’re not working together, what reason do we have to be around each other all the time? She lives in the city, and is sure to find another project far away from here.
And I…well, I don’t live anywhere.
In fact, after this I was thinking of moving closer to my mom. Or visiting for an extended amount of time until I figure out just what I’m doing.
But that was before I met Libby. Before she turned my world upside down.
She’s gone today, driving up to visit her dad and brother as they prepare to start a new project. They said they had news for her, which she told me was probably a new set of girlfriends.
At least she’d stop seeing me like that. A player. Someone who’s just temporary.
But am I really anything more? The idea of another commitment like the one I had with Denise scares me. But the thought of losing Libby scares me more.
I sweep up the last of the nails and screws that had fallen on the floor from the repairs I did in a wall upstairs, and carry the dustpan to the trash can.
At this point, I’m not sure whether to slow things down with Libby or go full speed ahead. All I know is that I’m starting to care for her too damn much.
I’m glad she’s gone today at the same time I wish she were here. But I need the space, the time to think. And I’m getting a lot done i
n the meantime.
I’m about to start on the next room when I hear the doorbell.
Who the fuck is that?
I’m tempted to ignore it, but it could be one of Libby’s friends. That Cheyenne girl who plans on selling the house for us. She’s already been by again and thinks we might be able to get almost double what Libby invested in the place.
That’s huge. Huge enough I’ll have a good chunk of money to start over somewhere new.
If that’s what I decide.
I jog downstairs, skirt around the last pile of flooring I’m going to install this week, and grab the handle on the front door. I yank it open, and then freeze.
Kyle stands there, the same expression of surprise on his face. “Carson?”
“Hey,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say. “What are you doing here?”
He points at me. “What are you doing here?”
I drop my chin to my chest, debating on how much to tell him. I don’t owe him any explanation, but the less I tell him, the more he’s going to snoop to find information. And I still haven’t told Libby I used to work with Kyle.
“I’m helping out with a few projects,” I hedge.
“This isn’t your project.”
“It was supposed to be.”
Kyle folds his arms, tucking aside the clipboard he’s holding. “Where’s the woman?”
“Libby?”
He nods. “I’ve come to talk to her about the house.” He peers inside with a frown. “Looks like she already got started.”
“You never showed up. What did you expect her to do?”
“Fuck that. I told her I had another project.”
“So you just wanted her to wait around for you to finish? To get to her house whenever you felt like it?”
“I’m not explaining this shit to you,” Kyle says. “We had an agreement and it’s none of your business. What’d you do? Run in here that first day and promise her you could do a better job?”
I prop my hand against the door frame and try not to lose my cool. This situation could go bad fast, and I need to diffuse it. I don’t want Libby to hear anything about what happened until I have a chance to explain.
“She hired me to help out. It was her choice. Besides, you said you have another project—and it’s clearly taking up all your time.”