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When I answer him, it’s with a reply I’d never thought I’d utter out loud to anyone, especially him. “Do we have to be enemies after this? Can’t we be colleagues and maybe work up to the friend status?”
I don’t want to hate Clark after today. It’s funny that I’m ready to say goodbye to this twenty-plus-year feud only after two days. And yet, it seems so silly and juvenile after almost dying in this snowstorm.
“And what, we’d go out and have a couple beers and forget about this attraction?” he asks.
I let out a high-pitched squeal that surprises both of us. “Now, it’s my turn. I’ll ask the next question. You ready, Clark?”
He stills at the tone of my words. It’s low and controlled, but more so, I called him Clark, which I seldom do. There’s a suspicious line at the corners of his mouth, and I’m able to read his body language. I prepare myself for his reaction because it could go both ways.
“Do you want me to fuck you right now?”
It’s quiet in the cabin, and all we can hear is the crackle of the logs burning.
“No,” he answers, and there’s so much finality. He can’t forget all those years of me torturing him. I attempt to slide out of the space, but his large hand connects with my arm, holding me, not letting me go. “I don’t want you to fuck me,I want to fuck you,” he says, and I can’t help it. I want to be gentle. I have to remember this moment. Can we continue hating each other after tonight?
“Come here.” I pull his hand, but he tilts my head back far enough that I know his next move, and I meet him halfway. Our calm is shattered when we crush our mouths together. We both give in freely to our passion as he rolls me over, and he’s suddenly on top.
I pull back, his taste still on my lips, and shove him against the pull-out bed. I shimmy down my pants and tug at his slacks, and they come without protest. The memory of his kiss from before is lighting the flame between us, and in our frenzy of need, our movements are quick and borderline rough. He straddles my body, with a simple T-shirt and his boxers being the only cock block we both encounter. His hungry chocolate eyes beg me for something, but I wait. I’ll follow his lead.
“What do you want?” Clark asks, his body shivering with the chill in the cabin.
“Anything you’re willing to give me,” I answer, and he drops his head to mine, and my tongue traces the fullness of his lips, and unlike before, there’s a calm between us. My hand moves down his body, and I grip his cock in my free hand. I roll him over to his side, where I don’t have to hold myself up with one arm. His fingers work their way around my backside and into my briefs.
The moan I let loose in his mouth matches, but his lower cry ignites everything inside of me, from the first time I saw him to now. He’s always been present, like a gnat on a hot summer day. Now, he’s the next kiss I dream of and the person I want to bring me to my next orgasm. I love this, with him and me. I want a do-over and that starts right now. Our rivalry has spanned two decades, and I can’t imagine hating him a second longer, but more so, I’ll hate that I can’t have him again.
“You need to get naked.” It’s his command, the bossy motherfucker.
“Me, what about you?” I ask, nipping at his lips and then landing my teeth on his neck.
“Undress me, Xan. I want your naked skin onmy naked skin.”
His hair is down, and I fist my hands into it, pulling his mouth toward mine. “I need your lips first, let me taste you again.”
His lips quirk into an incredible smile, and I must stop and revel in it.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re gorgeous, Xan. Most likely, knowing you, you realize it. But I’d be remiss not to tell you.”
“Are you calling me conceited, Farmer?” I ask.
“More like overly confident.”
Clark makes me laugh, and he drops a kiss on my nose. “Even when I hated you, I understood a good-looking man, and you’re more than simply good-looking.” I drop another kiss on his nose.
“You always thought I was hot, Xan?” he asks.
“Yeah, I mean, look at you, and it pissed me off even more.”
Clark’s hand caresses my cheek, and I move my fingers to his face. “Is that so?” The chuckle in his laugh has me staring at the man, seeing more than my archnemesis.
“Yeah, it’s so.” I can’t wait another minute, and I attack his lips. My hands are frenzied, as are his, and we’re hungry for one another. He tugs me closer, almost violently, into his embrace. The bruises he’ll leave may be my only reminder of us. I tug away from our kiss hesitantly, and I bury my face into his corded muscles. He moves his head, his mouth above my ears, a raspy whisper that ignites my entire body for the man I once considered my enemy.
“I don’t know what this is. One night, our desperation, our fear, and all of it colliding together, but I need you, Xan. I need every part of you. Please, don’t be an asshole. Give it to me.”
“And,” I counter, pulling myself away from his body, “one could say you, too, shouldn’t be an asshole.”
“Baby.” He’s so tender, a side of Clark Farmer I’ve never allowed myself to consider. “The only interest I have in anything asshole related is my cock in yours.”
