Page 40 of My Irresistible Enemy

I kissed him before he could finish speaking. I didn’t need to hear the end of his sentence. Didn’t want to hear it.

All I wanted was him.

7

Aiden

Istumbled, and Nolan swept his arm around me, holding me upright. His tongue brushed against my lips, and I parted them, letting him inside.

I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I’d come here pissed off, looking for answers—or at least looking for an argument to blow off some steam. Instead, I’d gotten—well, I suppose I had gotten my argument, but I sure as hell hadn’t gotten any answers.

Not satisfying ones, anyway.

I nipped at Nolan’s lower lip, annoyed at that realization, and his arm slid lower, his hand moving to my ass. Before I even had a moment to register that, he was picking me up and spinning me around, as easily as if I were a bag of groceries. He set me down on the counter of his workstation, then pulled back to look at me.

My cock throbbed.

No one had ever looked at a bag of groceries like that before. I launched myself at him, my hands going to his collar, pulling at his buttons as he tugged at my T-shirt and pulled it off over my head.

I shivered. It was hot and humid today, just like it had been every other day so far, but I felt deliciously exposed. I couldn’t help thinking how good this would look on camera.

Maybe I got a little too excited by that thought, because when my hands went back to his buttons, I popped one off, sending it flying across the tent. Nolan blinked, pulling back from where he’d been nibbling at my neck.

“Shit,” I said. “Sorry, I—”

But he was kissing me again before I could finish, and I could barely breathe, let alone speak. He had no right to make me this dizzy, no right to make me feel like I was falling and flying at the same time, with nothing but his lips and tongue. Well, his hands, too, which were kneading the top of my ass.

It wasn’t fair. He was such a dick, but around him, my body just started to melt.

Who would have thought that someone who dressed like he read the US tax code for fun would be so passionate? That someone so cold could burn so hot underneath? It was like he was determined to make up for every bit of restraint he showed to the outside world.

Before I could even get his shirt all the way off, he was pushing me flat on the counter, bending over me. He kissed my jaw, then neck, then down onto my chest. He teased my nipples, biting and licking them until I was writhing on the butcher-block surface.

I was achingly hard, and his hand felt amazing as he palmed my cock through my pants. When his fingers went to my fly, I lifted my hips up, not even thinking, not questioning what was happening. I just wanted to give him access to more of my skin. It wasn’t until I was naked, splayed out on the countertop, that I was able to think clearly again.

“Wait,” I said, pushing up onto my elbows. Nolan’s shirt was only half-unbuttoned and his slim, dark pants didn’t look messed up at all. The contrast with my nakedness was startling. And hot. “Wait, I don’t just want some furtive blowjob where you suck me off and leave. I’m not going to be in your debt twice.”

Nolan just smiled—this crooked little grin that became rakish as it widened. “Lucky for you, a blowjob isn’t what I had in mind.”

He brought a hand to my cock, swirling his fingers across my leaking slit, and stroked up and down the shaft once before trailing his fingers back to my hole. My legs spread open of their own accord, giving him more access, and my eyes widened.

Was he suggesting sex? Did he have a condom with him? Did I care if he didn’t?

It was a little fast, maybe. Definitely not romantic. But then, maybe it was time to accept that I’d never be one of those guys who inspired love poems and rose petals and champagne. Maybe I should take what I could get.

Besides, if Nora was right, I was going home next week. Unless I took Tanner up on his offer. Which—I mean, the guy was good-looking. And, all things considered, nicer to me than Nolan ever had been. But he didn’t make my heart race the way Nolan did.

He didn’t make me breathless.

If we were sent home next week, I’d never see Nolan again. The thought made my chest tight, which didn’t make any sense. But right now, right in this moment, he was here, looking at me with desire, instead of disgust. Acting like he wanted me, instead of pushing me away.

Maybe I should have had more self-respect, but, well, I never had before. Why start now?

So when Nolan grabbed a jar of coconut oil from the pantry shelves behind his workstation and brought it back to where I sat, all I said was, “Do you have a condom?”

“No. Not on me.” His smile was downright lascivious as he unscrewed the lid. Before I could even decide if that was a dealbreaker for me or not, he added, “But there are all sorts of things that can go inside you that aren’t my cock. We are in a kitchen, after all.”

My stomach turned a somersault. Nolan slicked up his left hand with coconut oil and brought it to my cock. He plunged the fingers of his right hand back into the jar, then stepped up in front of me, tapping me on the knee. Feeling very slutty and very turned on, I parted my legs, and he moved in between them.

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