Sworn Enemy: An MM Enemies-To-Lovers Book (Wild Heart Ranch 1)
Sworn Enemy: Chapter 21

Not gonna lie. Watching Charlie back down those two bigger guys was hot as fuck. I’d have been a smear on the sidewalk, but he had no concerns about them.

I could tell he was holding back when he took them down. More importantly, so could they. Even though I said something about them maybe coming back, I really wasn’t worried.

Well…that’s not entirely the truth.

I wasn’t worried about them hurting us, but there’s the distinct possibility they’d interrupt us, and nothing about that sounds like a good time. Also, that leaves the potential for blood on the carpet, which I’m sure the motel would have us pay for.

I’m beginning to understand that being with Charlie is like having a loaded weapon at my disposal. It’s infused me with a sort of cockiness, knowing I have someone at my back, ready to cause mayhem for anyone attempting to harm me.

The closest I’ve ever come to it is my relationship with my brother, as it is now. We are there for each other, but…Jason would have been equally useless against those two.

Refocusing on Charlie’s face, it’s hard to miss the smirk.

“What?” I ask, defensive.

“I don’t know. You’re looking like maybe that little display of violence out there turned you on.”

I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t the display of violence. It was the badass way in which you dealt out the violence. You have to know that’s sexy. Don’t lie.”

He shrugs. “I may have helped out a guy in distress and then ended up in his bed a time or two.”

“So, what? This is your schtick? I’m just one of your many men that you round robin?” I ask, grinning.

He shakes his head, gripping my shirt. “No. This is not that at all. Though the flush on your cheeks is an awfully nice bonus…boyfriend.”

Dammit. My cheeks flush even hotter. “Asshole,” I say, shouldering him.

“I’m the asshole? You’re the one who still has all his clothes on.”

“You could help me out, you know,” I say, popping my eyebrows.

“Deal,” he says, ripping off my shirt as I toe out of my boots. I unbuckle my belt and undo the button and zipper on my jeans while Charlie grabs my waistband and yanks down hard.

My jeans and boxers drop to my ankles, and I laugh when my hard dick rebounds, smacking my belly. He growls and palms my cock as he comes in for a kiss.

I step out of my clothes and into the heat of his body, marveling at the sensation of his muscles surrounding me. He’s got a strong, balanced build, and his body moves in tune with itself and me. The way he cradles my ass with one hand and cups the back of my head while pulling me in for a kiss with the other…any pretense of chill flies out the window.

We stumble-walk into the bathroom, with him blindly searching for and turning on the hot water. We press against each other, sliding our cocks together as we wait for the water to heat up.

We, on the other hand, don’t require any additional heating up. We’re already about to combust when Charlie tests the water before dragging us into the stream.

“Shit!” I curse as the semi-chill water hits my back.

Charlie smirks. “Are you saying that after all that hot, sweaty riding, you didn’t want to stand under some cold water?”

“Do I want to experience hypothermia after broiling in the heat all day? No. No, I do not,” I grouse, scowling as the water quickly goes from lukewarm to comfortably hot.

“Oh, shush.”

I like his smile as he puts his arms around me, warming me up. We stand there for a moment, wrapped in each other, letting the water pound down on us.

We sway together as if to music only we can hear, each of us adjusting ever so slightly to provide a new thrust of pleasure. A subtle shift of the hips, a barely noticeable scoop of the lower back, anything to give pleasure and friction.

Finally, Charlie, ever so practical, pulls away and washes my body and runs shampoo through my dust-covered hair. I take turns with him, gentle as I scrub under his armpits and the place where groin and thigh meet. The water beneath us runs brown, traces of the dry plateau swirling down the drain, leaving us clean and deliciously dirty.

Charlie turns off the shower, and we step out into the bathroom. He dries himself off quickly, wrapping the towel around his hips before gently wiping the beads of water off my body.

I don’t really understand how we got here. I don’t really get what it is we’re doing. Yes, he did call me his boyfriend. Yes, he’s been nothing short of amazing to be with, but…I don’t fully trust it yet.

Maybe because I know I’d deserve it if this were some fucked-up slow-play to make me fall for him and then crush my heart when I’m too far gone.

You already know that’s not his game, Jennings.

“Your brain is awfully loud over there,” he says, running the towel over my dripping hair.

“Just asking myself the scary questions,” I say, truthful because it’s who I want to be and because it just feels right with him. Which, I suppose, is a good sign.

“I just…I still don’t know what this is.”

Charlie gives me a long, slow look. Then smiles.

“Maybe it’s reconciliation. Maybe this is who we should have been this whole time. I don’t have any more answers than you do, but…” He hesitates, chewing on his thumbnail. “Look, I know we’re naked, but can I be brutally honest?”

I step closer and give him a kiss. “Please. I’d appreciate it.”

Nodding to himself, he knots his towel around his waist, and I do the same. His eyes are sincere and kind, and even though I know whatever’s coming probably isn’t pleasant, I know he’s not trying to hurt me.

“Justin…you are the reason I keep people at a distance. The reason I never let anyone get too close. There were guys who thought they could, quote-unquote, ‘break through my walls,’ sure. But they were comically, tragically mistaken.”

I take a deep breath, appreciating the honesty even as it hits right at the core of my insecurities with this man. A part of me wants to feel guilt and shame for who I was, but he’s not saying it like he wants me to feel bad.

He continues, “But you want to know what it is we’re doing here, and…” He kisses my hand, searching for the words. “All I know is that it doesn’t feel like you got through my walls. Being with you feels like it’s healing the reason I had the walls up to begin with.”

I let his words wash over me and feel them in my bones. It’s a revelation how we’ve come full circle, and something about that amuses me.

“It reminds me of what Homer says about beer,” I say, grinning.

“Homer, as in the guy who wrote The Illiad?” Charlie asks, incredulous.

“No, dumb ass. Homer Simpson.” He snorts, but I keep going. “Shut up. It’s a good quote. He calls beer the cause of and solution to all of life’s problems. I’m just sayin’…sounds a lot like me.”

Charlie’s head falls back, his laughter a full-throated affair that fills the tiny bathroom. Tipping his head forward, his eyes sparkle as he cups the back of my head.

“That’s brilliant—you really are the cause of and solution to all of my problems.” A soft look crosses his face. “I love it.”

He leans in for another kiss, at first slow and sweet before turning into something more. He drops his towel to the floor and pulls away the one wrapped around my waist. We cling to each other like we’re on the only piece of driftwood for miles around. Like two people lost at sea…or at least lost in each other.

I run my hands up and down his sides, swallowing his satisfied sounds like diamonds, wanting to hold them close. He pulls back, shaking his head, chuckling.

“Homer Fucking Simpson,” he mutters under his breath. He grabs my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine as he quietly leads us to the bed.

It’s actually a decent little roadside motel room. They recently updated everything, so there’s a new-paint smell and clean linens on the bed, all we really need.

We pull back the covers, and he pushes me gently to my back, straddling me with a smile.

“Shit,” I say, grinning at the random thought that crossed my mind.

“What?”

“What if this is your long game? Get me all coupled up and vulnerable before taking me out.”

“Taking you out?” He laughs at my words, and I respond in kind.

“Whatever. Think about it,” I say, tapping my temple. “Because right now you’re here hovering over me, completely capable of killing me with your thumbs.”

He leans forward, rolling his hips. “That would be a very labor-intensive and slow way to kill you.”

His smile is a little too broad for my tastes, but I go with it because he’s gliding his cock alongside mine, and it feels amazing.

“You are not playing fair.”

He grins on another eye-rolling hip thrust. “Oh, baby. We are way past fair right now ‘cause all I can think about is riding this monster you’ve got between your legs.”

My eyes widen in shock. “Really? You want to do that? I thought you were sorta…exclusively a top.”

He grins, looking like the cat that caught the canary. “I generally prefer it, but I like bottoming with a guy I can trust.”

Oh.

“So…you trust me?”

“Yep,” he says assuredly. “And you trust me.”

I bite my lower lip. “I do. I bet it would feel fan-fucking-tastic to be inside of you. Though, fair warning, I’ve topped only once before.”

He cups my face, kissing me softly. “My trust isn’t about your level of experience.”

“Okay,” I practically whisper, warmth spreading through my chest and belly.

Hopping up, he grabs his dopp kit, fishing out the lube and condoms, slicking me down efficiently with a teasing caress. He straddles me and leans forward, kissing me as he snakes his hand around his back. There’s a helpful mirror on the dresser just beyond the bed, and my breath catches as I watch him open himself.

I skim my long arm down his back, joining my middle finger with his. I know he’ll need the extra stretch, and the visual in the mirror is erotic as fuck. He moans against my lips, rocking back to get our twined fingers even deeper.

After some coaxing and whining on my part, he sinks down on me, engulfing me with his heat. I go into Lamaze breathing, wondering if there’s any chance in hell I can stave off the orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” I pant out, rolling my hips. “Fuck, Charlie. This is so good.”

“Justin…look at me.”

I’ve been squeezing my eyes shut without realizing it, and slowly, I comply. He’s smiling down at me, pleasure softening his expression. More than that is the way his eyes offer acceptance and affection like I’ve never felt before.

He rolls his hips, and I gasp, unable to tear my eyes away from him as he takes me apart bit by bit.

“I’m falling for you, Justin. I like who you are. I like who you’ve become,” he says, emphasizing this with another gentle thrust.

My heart rate escalates as he grabs my hands, kissing the knuckles one at a time. Fuck, I’m barely holding on.

“I wasn’t pretending when I called you my boyfriend out there.” He lets out a soft breath accompanied by another diabolical hip move. “You’re mine, and that’s all there is to it.”

My chest rises and falls dramatically as I hang on to the last bit of sanity, trying so desperately not to come or explode with the feelings that threaten to overwhelm me.

I can’t come up with any words, so I nod, hoping he can read me the way I’m reading him. He leans forward, running his fingers through my hair as he lays kisses across the bridge of my nose, squeezing tight around me, pinning me into place.

“Me too,” I finally choke out.

His smile erases history. And the way his eyes shimmer tells me more than his words that he means it.

One of the hardest things to cover in therapy is the idea that I deserve good things. Because that sounds like a lie most of the time, and in a moment like this, it feels unreal.

But somewhere along the way, I realized that accepting the good things in my life is critical to my ongoing recovery. I can’t stay sober in a life where I don’t deserve his…love. Maybe it’s too soon to say that word, but that’s what I see in his face and feel in his body.

This man, capable of such violence, is conversely capable of the sweetest words and the softest touches, and that thought alone forces a sob out of my throat.

I wrap my arms around him and pull him tight against me, his tears wet as he presses his face against my neck. Our breathing syncs, as does the rhythm of our bodies, and soon, tears give way to erotic moans.

I swipe the back of my arm across my face, laughing at myself before pulling his lips to mine. I thrust up into his hip roll, and his soft whining tells me he needs me like I need him.

Our legs twine together, and my fingers dig into his hips as I pull him down while simultaneously thrusting up into him. His brows stitch together and his mouth opens, wordless as his eyes stay locked with mine. I angle my hips just so, crashing into exactly the right spot inside him. Using the lube, I work my hand between our bodies and begin to stroke him in time with our thrusts.

His look of concentration and the way his teeth drag along his lips are the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. He shouts, and his warm cum spreads against my belly and hand.

Finally, I can let go. I thrust up hard and fast as orgasm and relief and acceptance and this reborn love wash over me like a tide. His body’s grip on mine, my arms tight around him…we’re in this moment together. I kiss him with everything I feel inside, and he meets it with equal ferocity.

We’re trembling, still overcome for several moments after. He collapses against my chest, and I’m still inside him, thrusting gently to milk the tight clutch of his body for a few more seconds.

I finally soften enough to slip out of him, and he carefully makes his way off me, wiping his cum from my belly as I collapse against the bed, unable to move. I take care of the condom and pull him to me again, kissing him hard, fervently.

And more importantly, he’s kissing me back. And he means it.

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