Inner Beast: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 2

  I was late for curfew that night but it was worth it.

  Chapter 3

  Alexis, present day. 26 years old.

  I’m sitting in my little red car outside of this gigantic overzealous house. It’s obvious that he’s compensating for something and by something I mean his small dick. The outside is very Victorian, White House with pillars, large wrap around porch, 2 stories. There were orchard trees that I drove by on my way in, bordering the winding driveway to the house. The area is secluded and forestry with no neighbours to be seen or heard from. There’s a large turnaround in front of the house with a blooming magnolia in the centre. It’s not the typical architecture you would see for a football player, the others have all been penthouses with amazing views, modern smart tech houses and lavish Mediterranean style mansions. This feels more like a family home a place to raise kids and grandkids. I roll my eyes out of habit and reach over to the passenger seat for my purse before exiting the car.

  I walk up the steps to the house, checking out the space. When i reach up to ring the doorbell the door almost immediately swings open, catching me off guard. Marcus stands in the doorway and by how casual he looks be obviously new I was coming. Which is odd because I was told I would be dealing with his personal assistant today. I even verified with her before leaving the house that she would be meeting me here. Marcus I was told would be at training camp and had left specific details of his wishes for all the different particular spaces. Yet here he is, standing before me with a look of beauty even I can’t deny. Seeing him again after all this time. Possibly since the wedding. I think since the wedding, there have been opportunities where I would have seen him but I’ve always been good at dodging situations like that. A made up crisis is always at the ready.

  Anyway he stands before me and I’ve been gawking for all the good and wrong reasons. Marcus stands in front of me, wet. Dripping wet. I’m talking he is standing in front of me with no shirt and no shoes and probably one of the whitest towels I’ve ever seen draped around his hips protecting my eyes from the devil within. His brown hair drips water down onto his face, the drips then fall down onto his bare, smooth, sculpted chest, running down his washboard abs and land at the most mouth watering v fading into the towel. The saviour of a towel. From there we drifts onto legs and feet and that does absolutely nothing for me so I blink out of my daze and try to deflect this horrible position I’ve gotten myself into.

  “Did I interrupt something?” I ask.

  “Nope was just heading to the kitchen from the pool when I was notified someone had entered the gate. Did you have any difficulty finding the place?” Marcus says as if our interaction is supposed to be normal and we haven’t been avoiding each other.

  “I thought I was meeting with your assistant.” I state. “Aren’t you supposed to be in training camp?”

  Marcus stands back from the doorway, gesturing for me to come in while he says “Coach had some family emergency and delayed the start until next week now.” I follow him into the house as he closes the door behind me and starts walking through the house, which I imagine is to the kitchen. “But you never answered me. Any troubles finding the house?”

  “No troubles” I say unsure once again about accepting this job. Wondering if my friendship is worth it. I mentally slap myself for even thinking that and decide I can be an adult, I can put the past aside.

  I’ve followed Marcus into the kitchen now, noticing along the way that the house is completely empty and dull. All the walls are white. There is a huge lack of furniture, there is no decor, the floors are an epoxy cement showing that the previous owners put some modern renovations into the place. The kitchen is immaculate with white cabinets, a farm house sink, cement countertops. all the appliances are high end and almost look commercial, the fridge is bigger than a normal sized closet. Which makes me wonder what the closet sizes are like. There is an island in the centre of the kitchen which is an apparent focal point as those cabinets are navy blue in colour. Contrasting from the very white aesthetics of everything else.

  I look over to Marcus who is just closing the fridge and grabbing something that either looks like leftovers or meal prep out, throwing the lid into the sink before tossing the container into the microwave. He turns and looks at me leaning back against the counter top. Both hands firmly holding onto the countertop at his sides. He is still half naked, or naked, my head dips down to his towel. Wondering what lies beneath. All of a sudden I hear Marcus clearing his throat. I shoot my eyes back up to his face and by the smug smile smeared across it I can safely assume I’ve been busted checking him out.

  “Maybe we should get to the reason that I’m here.” I say tossing my purse onto the counter which is immediately followed by the microwave beeping.

  “Sure thing, let me grab this food first.” Marcus says pushing off of the counter, turning and grabbing the food. Marcus proceeds to grab 2 plates and dishes it out equally. Whatever it is smells amazing and in that moment my stomach betrays me and grumbles.

  Marcus walks over to me and slides the plate in front of me with a fork. He proceeds to lean into the counter and eat his own.

  “I think we should start in the dining room” he says.

  “What if I have allergies.” Indicating to the food and ignoring his statement.

  “Do you?” He says.

  “No.” I say picking up the plate. “But that’s not the point” I take a bite and it’s absolutely the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I groan involuntarily and notice Marcus has gone completely still. Fork still in mouth.

  “Sorry” I say. “I didn’t expect this to taste so good.”

  “No need to apologize” he says. “So the dining room.”

  “That’s an odd place to start.” I say. “Why that space”

  “Well there’s a few reasons, but the only one I will say is because we should have somewhere to sit while we plan. Somewhere comfortable.” He says.

  “Well why not a seating room then, or the living room.” I say.

  He turns and looks at me. “I won’t feed you in the seating area.”

  “I don’t expect you to feed me when I come here.”

  “But I will.” He says.

  I quirk my brow up. “And when you're not here. Then what.”

  “That will be arranged.” He says.

  I roll my eyes now. How MACHO/CONTROLLING I think. “Well what was the other reason” I ask.

  He says. “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Why?” I insist.

  “Because if I say, you might walk out that front door and not come back. You might realize what that groan that immersed from your throat a few minutes ago did to me. What you still do to me.”

  I suck in a sharpe breath. “Don’t say that.” I say.

  “I don’t want to upset you. There are reasons I’m asking you to do rooms in these orders. So just don’t question it is all I ask.”

  “Ok.” I say. “The dining room. Let’s start there.”

  I take my plate and walk over to the dining room with Marcus walking behind me.

  “Do you plan on putting on some clothes?” I ask turning towards him.

  “Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asks.

  “Yes.” I state. “This is supposed to be a professional meeting and I know we know each other but I would like to keep it professional.”

  “Fine.” He says turning to leave. “I’ll go put some clothes on then.”

  The next thing he does makes my heart bounce off the floor, because as he turns to leave he whips the only cloth he has on, off. Tossing it to the floor revealing his sculpted ass. His bare naked taunt naked ass. As he rounds the corner out of the room heading for the stairs I can see the smirk on his face as he turns his head to me he says.

  “Are you uncomfortable now? Because I meant what I said at my sisters wedding.”

  He keeps walking before I have a chance to say anything else. Still in utter shock and wondering
why I ever agreed to this.

  Marcus all those years ago. Sams Wedding.

  As the evening sun sets over the water I stand there leaning over the railing. I lift my beer and pull a sip from the cool bottle.

  “Marcus come here, we need another picture.” I turn my head to Sams voice calling out to me. She is stunning and my heart aches to have what she has.

  Today was her wedding day. Her maid of honour was the one woman who denied me. One girl that gets under my skin. Ali. She is wearing a maid of honour dress that should be illegal. I thought maid of honour dresses were supposed to make people look hideous. Ali takes my breath away with her blonde hair, her tight toned body. Her personality and the quirky shit that comes out of her mouth. It does things to me. I feel my dick harden just by looking at her. She brought a date though. She brought Ethan, and every time I look at him I want to hit him. Cole must have seen the way I was looked at him earlier before the ceremony as He has the audacity to now smirk at me. Then lean over and bestow his kind words of wisdom.

  “Oh man, I’ve been there. I don't know who I should feel worse for. You, because he is going to bone the girl you have the hots for. Or him because he seems cursed to lose his girls to men of the frat.”

  Afterwards I could feel the scowl take over my face. The tension overtake my body. My teeth grit and my gums bleed. Ethan. Fucking Ethan.

  I decided to go out to get some fresh air when I saw them on the dance floor. Then I saw his hands grace over her skin and his face dip down to her face. This is my best friends and little sisters day and I will not ruin it. So when Sam called me back in for pictures and it was because they asked for one of me and Ali, I tried to compose myself.

  When I stood beside her I felt my temperature spike, my heart beat faster. When she slid her arm behind my back I felt my stomach drop, my dick twitch. When I inhaled her scent, sweet like apples. I groaned.

  Ali turned her head up and glared at me.

  “Hey asshole. Just deal with it, it's only a couple pictures and then you can go be a brute somewhere else.”

  I rolled my eyes. It’s easier to be enemies. I can do that.

  “Where’s Eric?” I ask her, purposely messing up his name to piss her off.

  “Ethan, is getting me a drink. Where is your date?”

  I didn’t bring one, I regret that now. So I play it off and dip down to her ear.

  “I don’t date. I fuck.” I say to her quietly. I see her cheeks blush as the camera snaps a picture.

  I smile into the camera and say “Don't blush so hard Ali, Evan might see and think you have the hots for me.”

  Ali exhales hard and groans at me. “Your an asshole I don't have the hots for you and his name is ETHAN.”

  The camera man says “Thats it I think I’ve got everything I need.”

  Ali lets go of me quickly and starts to take off. I grab her by the wrist gently and pull her back into me.

  “He might be done but I’m not.” I say with a raspy breath.

  “I am.” She says. “There is nothing you can say that would make me want you.”

  I lean into her ear and whisper making sure my lips grace her ear.

  “Your body responds to me like you want me, your breathing has changed your nipples have hardened to the point that I can see them through your dress. I know he doesn’t satisfy you and I know you picture me while you touch yourself. I know that you wonder what I’m like in bed. How hard I could make you cum. You can say you don't want me Ali, but your body screams sex. So tonight while Edward attempts to get you off and fails miserably remember that you turned me down.” I take a deep breath and enunciate the next few words. “Me. Fucking. You. Hard.”

  I turn and walk away from her. It takes everything in me but I will not show her what she does to me. I walk over to the bar and grab another beer while I work to tame my inner beast.

  Chapter 4

  Alexis 26 years old.

  Marcus came downstairs, fully dressed and still wearing that grin on his face that screams “haha checkmate.” I pretended to ignore the tension it caused, the increase in my heart rate, my sweaty palms. My obvious fumble and loss for words. We spoke briefly about what he was looking for in the space, how large of a table, colour preferences ect. He really wasn’t a big help. Which the men usually aren’t.

  “Big table, functional space.” He had said. “I’m sure I’ll like whatever you pick out.”

  I left the house shortly after, speeding my little red coop away from that house as quickly as I could. Adding distance to break whatever spell I was under. Picturing the dining room how it was, how it could be. Picturing him naked in there, me naked in there. Us naked together in there. I turn the music up to help me get out of my head. To focus my energy and thoughts on anything other than the actual dick I almost saw and how how close I almost got to seeing it.

  I pull up to my condo in the heart of the city. I’m not in the penthouse but I fell in love with this building when I first moved to Seattle. It has great security, 24/7 door service, a front desk where people have to actually check in before visiting the tenants. The feeling of security was the deciding factor when I was choosing my home. Moving to Seattle was already scary, I have no family here. My family was not helping me, they after all did not agree with my choice in career. So my home had to feel like a safe place where I wouldn’t be scared of every noise or strange person walking by. Everyone who lives here undergoes a background check and of course this safety comes with a price. A price that was expensive. After this job on Marcus’s house I will be able to completely pay off the remaining balance of my mortgage and feel even more secure when I come home. So no matter how much I want to bail on this job, I will get this job done.

  I walk into the condo kicking the door closed behind me. My muscles ache from a full day of mental and physical exhaustion. I throw my keys into the bowl in the entry way and kick off my heels. My feet instantly cramp and shoot pain through the arch of my feet up into my calves. The pain had been welcoming for awhile, took my mind off of Marcus but now I resent my choice in shoes and lack of insight into the pain I now feel. I think subconsciously I was dressing to impress, which makes me feel psychotic. I have whiplashing feelings even I don’t understand. I despise that man, have for a long time but looking never hurt anyone.

  But that feels like something a serial killer would say before their first kill.

  And now I'm comparing myself to a serial killer.

  I force myself to walk through my condo over to the blinking answering machine. I hit the play button while leaning against the couch. Rubbing the soles of my feet whilst I wait for the machine so start playing.

  You have 3 new messages.

  New Message:

  Hi hunny, I was trying to get ahold you today. Please call me when you get this message we have news.

  Thats mom. I press delete. I’ll call her back, eventually, maybe.

  New Message:

  Hey Ali, It’s Sam. Just calling to see how today went, I didn’t want to call and disrupt you at work. Call me, I wanna know if my dickhead brother was a decent person or not. Also I have news. Call me, love you.

  Ali, everyone apparently had news. I press delete.

  New Message:

  Alexis…

  I stop rubbing my foot and look at the machine as if I can see who is speaking. The sound of my name, coming from his lips. My skin crawls. How did he get this number. Why is he calling after all this time. Maybe it’s not him.

  Alexis… Its been a beat. It’s Carter. I’m in Seattle and was hoping we could meet up. Call me back. My numbers 717-400-0294. I’ve been wanting to reach out for awhile and explain. Please call.

  BEEEEEEP.

  I jump in my seat from the sound of the machine. I was in such utter shock that I had zoned into the machine. When it beeped I almost fell right off of the couch. My heart pounds and I’m unsure whether its from the phone call or the near panic attack afterwards. I press
delete quickly.

  I don’t understand its been 9 years since I last spoke to him. After what happened I left for college a couple weeks later and never saw him again. When I went back home he wasn’t around. Our paths have never crossed. I don't speak to my old friends anymore, all our previous connections were severed. I don't understand why he would be reaching out. Why he thinks I would ever talk to him. He has been wanting to reach out for awhile he said.

  Could this day be anymore strange.

  I walk into the bedroom stripping off my clothes and throwing them in the hamper. I then walk into my ensuite and start the shower. While it warms up I stare into the mirror at my reflection. My skin is dull from all the sweat that’s now dried on. My makeup looks like I’ve been wearing it for 3 days, worn and faded. My hair a frizzy mess.I look down at my body, which is thin from the lack of nutritious meals. I’ve been to busy to cook and its been to hot for hearty meals which means I’ve been living off of bagels that I pick up on the way to work and salads from the little cafe by the shop.

  I work slowly washing off the make up from my face. Then turn and walk into the shower. The warm water pierces me skin in the most euphoric way. I wash my hair scrubbing out the salt and sweat from the day. Then I grab my sweet apple body wash and luffa and work at lathering the soap along my body. I start with my arms, then move the luffa across my chest. When the material grazes my nipples I feel them pebble and I remember how long its been since I’ve had an orgasm. How horny I was earlier today just from seeing a naked man in towel, or the after site of seeing that man fully naked walking away.

  The luffa lowers and I close my eyes drifting it farther down my stomach. I reach up and place my hand on the cool tiles to steady myself as the luffa slowly scratches along my body. My body is sensitive. Goosebumps break out. The tiny hairs lift. I picture Marcus in my head, when he first opened the door to the house. When the water droplets traveled down his naked body from his head down his chiseled chest towards his mouthwatering v before disappearing into that towel. I remember the flex of his muscles in the kitchen when he leaned on the counter. The smell of him when he was in my personal space in the dining room. I remember the way his smirk gave me butterflies and the way when his towel hit the floor he strutted away with such confidence. I remember the way his ass looked, the flexing muscles in his legs and ass while he was walking away. The words he said, a reminder of his speech from the wedding. The way he had whispered in my ear back then, how he mentioned the fuck he would give me. I drop the luffa and reach my fingers towards my clit working on the sensitive nub. Rubbing circles around the bead and pinching it. I can feel the pressure building, my insides clench. My breathing is laboured, the water bouncing off my skin is erotic. I slip two fingers inside myself craving the sweet relief. I picture Marcus touching me like this, his fingers inside me. His warm breath along my skin, kissing and nibbling at my skin. The pressure continues to build as my legs start to tingle and shake. I remember his husky words in my ear as I picture him bending me over and fucking me just like he said he would. My fingers now making sharp movements, pumping in and out while I clench around them, my orgasm building. The water turns cold and I scream out in the change of temperature, my orgasm following ripples of pleasure, my sex clenching and unclenching around my fingers. I withdraw my hand and turn the tap off. Then rest both of my hands on the shower wall steadying myself. My breathing is erratic, my heart pounds. I cannot remember the last time I orgasmed but I know its been too long. I will my legs to move and grab the towel on a nearby hook. I walk into the bedroom and grab my phone off off of the bed.