Wrong for Me: An Enemies-to-Lovers Billionaire Romance Page 7

  I blushed again just thinking about it, meeting his eye, and he grinned when he saw the look on my face.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said, glancing away from him. In truth, I was thinking about how good his fingers had felt, how good that kiss had been before he’d moved his mouth to my pussy. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to look at him again.

  “Listen,” I said. “I think—we can be friends. But I’m not going to be anybody’s plaything.”

  “It’s not like that—” he began, but I put my hand up to cut him off.

  “I’ve been through shit like this before, Tyler. Men think they can use me. Just because I’m not pretty—”

  “What?” he asked, gaping at me in disbelief. “What’d you say?”

  I waved the words off, turning away from him, but he made his way around the counter and to the stove, standing in front of me.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Ali,” he said, looking into my eyes, and I was filled with surprise when I saw genuine earnestness in his expression.

  “Stop,” I said to him, turning away.

  He turned me around again though, looking into my eyes. “You’re not a plaything,” he said.

  I pushed him gently away from me, shaking my head. “You said yourself I was.”

  “I’m not—”

  “We can be friends, Tyler,” I said, looking him in the eye, though it hurt to say the words. “Just friends. I’ve been—I’ve been hurt before, okay? And I’m not going to deal with that again. I’m just not.”

  “What happened?” he asked in a gentle voice. I sighed, going back to the stove.

  “I had somebody once. Not a boyfriend. A guy I fooled around with. I thought—I thought he liked me, but he was just using me to get to my sister.”

  “That’s awful,” he said softly.

  “She was prettier. Thinner. I get it. It makes sense,” I said.

  He shook his head, taking my chin in his hand, turning my face toward his. “Ali, seriously. You are—I think—you are so—”

  He stumbled over his words and I couldn’t help but smile.

  “What?” I asked him. He took a deep breath, an embarrassed look passing over his face, and in that moment I realized the truth about him, that he really was interested in me. I stared at his face.

  “Um,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “I think—you’re the most incredible, perfect woman I’ve ever known. And I’m a fucking idiot for messing that up.”

  “You are,” I said, though I was softening toward him every moment. I stayed away from him though, not going to him, not giving into my temptation to take his mouth in a kiss. I had been thinking about it ever since the last time it had happened, how perfect it had been, how natural it had felt to be with him. I had been thinking, too, about what it would have been like to go further, to take his cock deep in my pussy and feel him stretching me out again and again.

  “I want to make it better,” he said, taking both of my hands in his.

  I shook my head. “You can’t,” I said softly.

  “I can,” he said. “I’m—I’m serious about this, Ali.”

  I stared at him, unable to say words. I was truly shocked by the tone in his voice, like he meant every word he was saying. I didn’t know how it was possible—how I could possibly be his choice, the most beautiful person he’d ever met, when he was surrounded by thin, beautiful models all day long.

  “I’m willing to wait for you,” he said softly when I didn’t respond after a moment, lifting his hand to my cheek and stroking it with his thumb. “I’m willing to wait until you come to me first. I’m not going to try to—I won’t seduce you, or kiss you, or touch you. I want you to know that I want more than that.”

  I stared at him, unable to say words. Our eyes met and connected, looking at each other, drinking each other in until the kitchen timer went off and drew me out of my reverie. I blinked and turned around to the oven, taking the casserole out and putting it on the counter.

  “Looks better,” he said. “I can’t see how it’s possible that you improved on the original.”

  I laughed. “I didn’t think it was possible, either.”

  “It was just so good,” he said. “But you have the magic touch.”

  “I do,” I said, grinning at him. I felt more comfortable then, more relaxed as we sat down for a meal together. I was still overheated, still aroused just looking at him, thinking about what had happened between us. But I forced those thoughts to the back of my mind, trying not to focus on them—doing so would only distract me, and I didn’t want to allow myself to get close to Tyler. I didn’t trust him, not after what had happened at the party, but I had to admit to myself that I was happy to have him back, even if it meant we couldn’t touch each other.

  Chapter 19: Tyler

  I spent a lot of time with Ali after we decided to call a truce and be friends, despite the fact that she was determined to keep her distance from me physically and emotionally. Ali never let me touch her. It used to be that when we watched movies, we would get comfortable, and her legs would inevitably end up in my lap while I massaged her feet, trying not to jump at the scary parts in the movie. Each time I did, she teased me, something that made me want to kiss her over and over again. I loved the teasing, joking smile on her face, her easy laugh and her joy when doing something she loved.

  It was hardest when she would leave, after spending an evening riled up just being close to her. Every single moment we were together, I craved being able to kiss her, to touch her, to taste that sweet little pussy again and again and make her come on my face. At times, I found myself in bed thinking about it, found my hand traveling down my body to stroke my cock while I imagined burying my face between her legs again, sucking on her needy clit. I never allowed myself to come thinking about her, feeling guilty for thinking about it at all when she so clearly just wanted to be friends. Despite her protestations, though, Ali couldn’t deny that she wanted me, something that drove me even crazier every time I was in her presence.

  I was sitting on my couch one night when there was a knock at my door. I opened it to see Ali standing there, wearing a giant t-shirt and sweats, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose. Somehow, the sight of that was even sexier than when she had worn that green dress at the Christmas party, and I couldn’t help but to allow my eyes to scan her body as she stood there in the doorway.

  “What’s up?” I asked her nonchalantly, though I was surprised at how late it was. It was almost midnight—long past her recent bedtime, but she looked wide awake as she stood there looking up at me in the doorway.

  “I’m bored,” she said.

  “You’re bored,” I repeated. She nodded, brushing past me into my apartment, sinking down on the couch and crossing her legs. I sat down next to her and she looked over at me.

  “Entertain me,” she said with a small, sly smile on her face.

  “How should I do that?” I asked her.

  She shrugged. “Up to you.”

  “I have some ideas—”

  She gave me a dry look. “Something appropriate, please.”

  I smirked at her. “Damn.”

  “We can watch something,” she said, and I was surprised when she stretched her legs out, putting her feet in my lap while she picked up the remote and turned on the TV. I leaned back into the couch and she crossed her ankles on my lap, staring at the TV while I kept my eyes on her face. She flipped through the channels, excitement passing over her face when she landed on exactly what I had guessed she would want to watch—old re-runs of The X-Files that always ran late at night on the Sci-Fi channel, her favorite station to watch. She turned it up, sinking into the couch with her eyes on the TV.

  “Have you seen this episode?” I asked her, trying to ignore the stirring in my lap that was occurring just from being so close to her. I wasn’t a foot guy, but having her feet in my lap, her legs so close to me, was
making my cock hard as a rock. I found myself placing my hand gently on her ankle, not daring to touch her but to lightly brush her with the backs of my fingers. The soft skin of her legs was so tempting, so smooth-looking that I had a hard time not rubbing them up and down.

  “Yes,” she said, and I noticed then that she was squirming slightly, her hips shifting on the couch. I brushed her ankle then, tracing it deliberately with my finger, watching her face as she watched TV. She didn’t pull away from me but settled into the couch, her eyes focused as I took her foot in both of my hands and started to massage it gently. She closed her eyes, giving a soft groan as I rubbed the pads of her feet, touching her ankles as I did so. My hand traveled up her leg only slightly, up to her calve, barely brushing against the sensitive skin at the back of her knee.

  “How long have you been like this?” I asked her as I massaged her calf, my hand brushing upward, just above her knee. When she looked at me, it was with a powerful heat on her face that she was trying to suppress. Her thighs were rubbing together under her dress, the movement subtle but there. I knew that it was only teasing her needy clit to relieve herself that way, and wondered how wet she was, if her panties were soaked through.

  “Like what?” she asked.

  I nodded at the TV. “Creepy,” I said.

  She laughed, the sound breathless as I switched to her other foot, rubbing it with my thumbs. “Creepy?”

  “You like creepy things,” I said.

  “Always,” she breathed as I moved my hands upward again, only this time I didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. My hand brushed her thigh, the backs of my fingers lifting her dress a couple of inches as I held her eye. The movements of her legs were no longer subtle—she was growing desperate as I started to rub her thigh, looking into her eyes. Still, she didn’t acknowledge what was happening, though as she spoke, it sounded like it was hard for her to get the words out.

  “I used to read ghost stories as a kid. Those Goosebumps books,” she said. I shook my head, chortling.

  “Why am I not surprised that you’ve always been morbid?” I asked her, pulling her closer to me so that her legs were totally on my lap. In doing so, her dress had ridden up so that I could see her pretty panties, pale blue with a tiny bow at the top. For some reason, that drove me crazy. I wanted immediately to slip my hands in her panties and touch her eager pussy—I could tell she was wet, a dark spot covering her swollen lower lips. Instead, I moved my hand up to her thigh, stroking it with the backs of my fingers.

  “I—I uh—” she said, stumbling over the words, her eyes closing once I got within a couple inches of her pussy.

  “What is it, Ali?” I asked her in a soft voice. “Can’t speak?”

  She said nothing, but her thighs spread slightly, begging for attention between her legs. Instead, I rubbed her other thigh. I was as affected as she was, completely hard, my breathing feeling slightly shallow. I wanted to touch her desperately but I waited for her to tell me what she wanted, to confirm that I could do so without breaking our friendship.

  “I’d better go,” she said, just when I was about to stroke her pussy, to give into what I wanted. She pulled her dress down, blushing deeply as she got up. “I’ll see you,” she mumbled before she left, hurrying out of the apartment.

  I took a deep breath, found myself standing up and hurrying into my bedroom. I pulled my cock out of my jeans, felt it wet at the tip. I wrapped my hand around myself and started to rub my cock with my palm, closing my eyes, imagining Ali with her legs spread, wrapped around my waist. I remembered how tight her pussy was, knew that she would fit me like a glove, and nearly groaned as the image entered my head of her riding me on my lap, her large breasts bouncing as she took me deep into her little pussy.

  My hand sped up on my cock, focusing on the head of it, stroking it desperately while I thought of fucking her over and over. I couldn’t help it—every part of my body was frantic to have her, to touch her, to ride her as good and hard as she wanted.

  I didn’t hear the front door, but jumped up in bed when my bedroom door opened, my cock still throbbing in my hand. It was Ali, and I stopped rubbing myself, staring at her as she stood in the doorway.

  Chapter 20: Tyler

  “What—I—” I said, stumbling over my words, my eyes focusing on Tyler’s cock, long and hard and thick. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it, even though I felt myself blushing, and I thought I could feel my knees go weak as the thought passed through my mind, wondering what it would be like to take him inside of me.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, staring at my face, making no move to cover himself.

  “I forgot my phone,” I said. “I didn’t see it in the living room—I think I left it in your bathroom.”

  “Feel free to grab it,” he said in a soft, inviting voice. I blushed even deeper somehow, chewing on my lip.

  “Do you want to know what I was thinking about, Ali? You look curious.”

  “Yes,” I breathed, though I knew I shouldn’t.

  “I was thinking about you riding me,” he said. “Feeling that tight little pussy taking my cock.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling a gush of moisture between my legs.

  “Come ride my cock, angel,” he said, beckoning me over.

  “I—I shouldn’t,” I said. “We shouldn’t.”

  He grinned at me.

  “Can you say no?” he asked.

  I bit my lip. We both knew the answer to that question. “I’ve never—” I said. “I’m too heavy.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Get over here,” he said, wrapping his hand around his cock again, stroking it up and down. “I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

  I moved across the room, then, giving in, and he sat up on the bed and reached for me. He pulled my face to his, taking my mouth in a deep, hot kiss that made me even wetter. His hands reached down, trying to lift my dress, but I stopped him, shaking my head.

  “I want to leave it on,” I said to him. I had always been shy about my body, the curves of it, nowhere near the size of the skinny girls he liked. I couldn’t stand the thought of him getting turned off by what I looked like—if I saw a look of disgust on his face, it would ruin everything for me. He stared into my eyes, pulling my face down to kiss me softly.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” he said against my lips. “I want to see every part of you.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” he said, looking into my eyes. “I want all of you, Ali.”

  I stared at him, saw the tenderness in his eyes, the genuineness there. I took a deep breath and let go of his hands, allowing him to pull my dress off, instinctively covering my soft belly with my arms. He pulled them down, leaning forward and nuzzling my stomach, kissing just below my naval. He reached around me to unfasten my bra, pulling it off, letting my breasts spill forward. He took one into his mouth, sucking tenderly on my nipple as his hands pushed my panties down my hips.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he said, kissing my belly again, pulling me into the bed with him. He laid on his back, moving me forward, pulling me on top of his face. I tried to squirm away, embarrassed, afraid that I would crush him beneath my weight. He held me tight, wrapping his arms around my thighs, bringing his mouth to my pussy and licking it once with a soft growl.

  “Tyler, I can’t—I’m too—”

  “If you say you’re too heavy again, I’m going to spank you,” he said in a gruff voice. My pussy grew even wetter at that, dripping onto his lips. He chuckled.

  “Not much of a punishment then, I guess,” he said, and started to lick me again, pulling me forward onto his face. I tried to hold myself up, but the more he licked and sucked on my clit, the more I settled down on him, beginning to grind against his tongue. I couldn’t help it—my self-consciousness disappeared and I started to moan, humping against him as he devoured me from below. His tongue focused on my clit, flicking against it, and I put my hands in his hair, holding him closer
as I rode against his face. I came all over his tongue, my pussy throbbing, trembling as I erupted on his face. I lifted myself off of him and scooted backward, sitting on his hips instead. He reached over into his drawer, pulling a condom out and slipping it on, getting ready for me to take his cock. I took it in my hand and aimed it inside of me, closing my eyes as I sank down and took him completely into my pussy.

  “God,” he said, his voice gravelly, immediately started to lift his hips against mine. I tentatively started to move against him, nervous about doing it wrong. He seemed to sense my anxiety, because he brought his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me down for a kiss.

  “Do what feels good, Ali,” he said, kissing me again, then again. “I want you to fuck yourself on my cock. I want you to use me. Will you do that for me, angel?”

  His words made my hips speed up, rocking against him, whimpering and unable to answer. It felt so good, so fulfilling taking his cock again and again, moving in a natural rhythm for my body. He stayed still, letting me use him, lifting his face to suck on my nipples, sending even more pleasure through my body. His breathing started to speed up, pulling me closer, his hips started to move as he buried his face in my breasts. The movement of his hips hit the sweet spot within me, so good and perfect that I came all over his cock, whimpering as I did so. My hips kept moving, wanting more, my clit throbbing and needy. He flipped me over then and onto my back, not pulling out of me, beginning to grind into the back of my pussy in shallow, hard strokes.