Enemies with Benefits: A Real Man Read online

  I started to really jerk off then, picturing me laying her out on this very bed, spreading her thighs, and looking my fill of her pretty pussy. I’d smooth my hands down her inner legs, up and down, inching closer to the spot I knew she’d ache for me the most. And when she couldn’t take it anymore, when she was begging for more, I’d touch her pussy, stroke her clit, and make her come for me.

  “Christ.” I gritted my teeth as pleasure slammed into me so hard it was like I’d been kicked in the gut. It stole my breath.

  Delilah would be so needy for me, her pussy soaked, but I wouldn’t let up. I wanted everything from her. I’d give her so much she couldn’t even think straight, let alone walk the next day.

  My entire body tightened as pleasure moved through it, starting at the base of my spine and staying there like I’d just gotten knocked the fuck out.

  I stroked my cock faster, squeezing the length hard and breathing out fiercely.

  Fuck.

  I was breathing so damn hard at this point, my orgasm inevitable in the next few seconds. And it was on those final pumps that I pictured aligning the tip of my dick with her little pussy hole and slamming in deep.

  I groaned low as my organs rose up. My balls tightened and my abs clenched. Every muscle in my body was taut. I came long and hard, knowing I was getting cum all over my shirt and jeans, but I didn’t fucking care. I wanted these thick ropes on Delilah, if I were being honest. And then I’d rub that in and mark her as mine.

  That thought and image had me groaning again as my orgasm seemed to go on for long moments.

  When I was finally able to breathe again, I let go of my semi-hard cock and opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling as I felt my pulse pound in my ears. I pushed myself up and looked down at the fucking mess I made, making a disgruntled noise in the back of my throat.

  I’m such a dirty fucker.

  I was tired of jerking off thinking about Delilah. I wanted the real thing. I didn’t just want her under me, moaning my name as I made her come. I wanted everyone to know she was my girl.

  I wanted everyone to know she was mine.

  3

  Delilah

  I couldn’t focus, not since last night after the little interaction with Mal, not since he complimented me in a way that had my body heated so badly I had to take a cold shower.

  I sat in my seat in class and chewed on the end of my pen as I stared at the teacher. His mouth was moving, but I had no idea what he was saying. I was ready to get out of here, ready for the last class of the day to be done so I could… what? Go home and think about Mal instead of doing it here?

  I groaned internally, frustrated that he consumed my thoughts. But in all fairness, he had that effect on me well before last night. It was just so much worse now, because the way he looked at me when he told me I was so pretty when I was annoyed at him shouldn’t have turned me on like it had.

  And I was still turned on.

  My cell vibrated, and I pulled it out of my pocket. A text from my brother popped up.

  Aiden: Sorry, D. Work called and asked if I can come in earlier. Anyone else able to bring you home?

  Great. I typed out a quick reply.

  Delilah: It’s fine. I’ll just take the bus.

  I probably could have found someone else, but I wasn’t against taking the bus. Besides, maybe the noise from all the students around me would drown out my thoughts about Mal.

  I stayed in class for the last half hour, then when we were dismissed, I grabbed my stuff and left the room, stopping by my locker to shove the books inside that I wouldn’t need for homework.

  The sound of loud conversation filtered all around me, and the ring of locker doors slamming shut gave me a headache.

  I headed out of school, pushing the heavy front door open, the sun bright enough I lifted my hand to shield my vision. People pushed and shoved from behind me, and I stumbled around before forcing myself to head down the front steps and make my way toward the line of buses that was off to the side.

  I had my focus on the ground, looking at my shoes as I walked, when the sound of someone whistling had my head lifting. I didn’t know why that noise came through all the other ones, why I focused on it, but it had been clear and loud.

  A second later, someone was shouting my name. I looked toward the student parking lot, not seeing anyone at first who would be talking to me, but then I saw a familiar dark truck parked by the curb. Mal leaned against it, his arms crossed over his wide chest. He wore that signature expression of his, one that screamed “I don’t give a fuck about anyone or anything.”

  I felt my brows pull low at the same time my feet started moving toward him as if they had a mind of their own. I noticed a few guys walking by, seniors like me, who stopped and bullshitted with Mal. But his focus was on me the whole time.

  Last year, he and my brother had been at the top of the food chain at school. Popular. Star football players. They had it all. They were legends at school, obnoxiously so, so it wasn’t surprising that he had people stopping and talking to him.

  I also didn’t miss how many girls openly eye-fucked him. I felt something else start to turn in my belly from the latter.

  Jealousy.

  I shook off the unwanted feeling.

  After only a second, Mal waved off the guys who stopped to talk to him, his focus trained right on me. I didn’t say anything when I was only a few feet from him, confused on why he was here.

  We didn’t say anything to each other for long seconds, and I lifted an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

  He didn’t speak for a second, then asked, “Isn’t it obvious?”

  I shook my head. “No, or I wouldn’t have asked.”

  He chuckled softly. “You need a ride home. So here I am.”

  How the hell did he know I needed a ride? I didn’t move, maybe a little surprised still that Mal was here, that he’d taken the time to do something nice and considerate for me.

  “Are you going to get in or what?” His expression stayed smooth, despite the teasing note in his voice.

  I still didn’t move as I took in his appearance, at the way his dark denim jeans fit him so well there was no denying how muscular his legs were. He wore a black hoodie, his light-brown hair slightly disheveled over his head. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his jeans, and I clenched my jaw at how good he looked. Damn him for being so hot.

  “I have a ride.” I looked behind me at the line of buses. A hiss came from them, a telling sign that they’d be leaving shortly.

  “Um, you’d rather take the bus than let me drive you home?”

  I looked back at Mal. Well, no, but I wasn’t going to admit that.

  “How did you know I needed a ride anyway?”

  He let out an exasperated sigh. “How do you think? Aiden mentioned it before he left campus to head to work. Told him I’d swing by and pick you up.” He joked after that, “You know, ’cause I’m a cool, decent guy like that.”

  Huh.

  Just then, two guys walked behind me, one of them doing a low whistle that had the hair on the back of my neck standing on end in annoyance. I looked over my shoulder and gave them an icy glare, and one of them winked at me.

  “Move it the fuck along.”

  I snapped my head back in Mal’s direction, his tone cold and cutting, his glare murderous as he stared at the two assholes. The guys didn’t say anything else, but I did hear them pick up their pace as they retreated, Mal watching them the entire time.

  I felt my eyebrows lift to my hairline as I continued to watch him. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that act was a little bit possessive, maybe even proprietary. Definitely jealous.

  But that couldn’t be right.

  He looked back at me, and I saw his expression soften. “Testy much?” I prompted coldly, although it wasn’t cold at all. Truth was, my body hummed from his reaction to those guys. I shouldn’t let these feelings consume me as much, but it was like something shifted in me last night
during our exchange.

  It just seemed... different, in a good way.

  He gave me this little smirk and stepped aside, tipping his chin toward his truck.

  “Are you going to get in or what?” Although he sounded annoyed that I just stood there, I could still hear a teasing note in his voice.

  It probably wasn’t a good idea to be in close quarters with Mal, given how I felt toward him and how he lit me up so fiercely just last night, but I found myself walking toward the vehicle.

  He opened the passenger side door for me, and I lifted an eyebrow. “You doing the whole chivalry thing now?”

  He snorted. “Who says I haven’t always been like this?”

  I set my bag on the floor and climbed in. “Doesn’t seem like your style,” I said halfheartedly as I settled back against the seat. I glanced over at him and saw the way he watched me. I swallowed, my mouth drying at the look he gave me. “What?” My voice kind of squeaked at the end, and I hated I hadn’t been able to keep it smooth and even. I didn’t want Mal to see how he affected me, even if he’d never know it all leaned toward desire and need.

  Love.

  “You’d be surprised what my ‘style’ is if you didn’t hate me so much.” I heard that teasing note in his voice, although he also seemed pretty serious.

  “I don’t hate you, Mal.” The words spilled from me before I could stop them.

  His eyes widened just a fraction as if my words surprised him, but then he gave me a slow smile, one that had his blue eyes seeming even more beautiful. “I’m glad to hear that.” He sounded sincere—and relieved—as hell, and I felt my cheeks heat.

  He gave me another smile, but this one was... different, and I couldn’t place why.

  4

  Delilah

  Mal shut the door before I could think too much more on it and walked around the front of the truck to climb in.

  Once he was in the driver seat, he looked over at me, a sly little smirk on his lips that did wicked things to my body. God, why did he have to be so damn attractive? He was masculine in every single way. His short dark-brown hair was mussed in that sexy way of his.

  His blue eyes were bright, the shade unusual but striking. His body was tall and lean, cut muscle that I’d seen many times when he decided not to wear a shirt during the summertime. And he was such a skilled, talented athlete.

  Plus, he was so smart. I knew that was the real draw for me. That’s what I found most attractive. Despite all his other delicious qualities, his intelligence was what really did it for me.

  He didn’t say anything as he started the truck, and then he was pulling out of the parking lot and heading toward my house. I suddenly felt really nervous, and any annoyance I previously felt toward him vanished as my arousal rose.

  I looked out the passenger side window, but I could feel him continuously glancing at me, his eyes like a physical touch. Goosebumps moved along my arms, and I rubbed my hands over my limbs, frustrated at the physical effect he had on me.

  “Why did you want to pick me up?” He said I needed a ride so here he was, but was that the real reason?

  He was silent for a few moments before he cleared his throat and shifted on the leather seat. “Can’t I just do something nice for you?”

  I looked at him then, his focus on the road, his posture easygoing. But I could see he was a little tense, the knuckles on the hand holding the steering wheel white as he gripped it tightly. His jaw was also clenched, a muscle underneath ticking under the smooth skin. Before I could respond, although he said it like it wasn’t a question, Mal was speaking again.

  “Besides, I like hanging out with you.”

  I lifted my eyebrows again in surprise, but then snorted and shook my head. “I call bullshit on that,” I said honestly, and his deep chuckle slammed right into me and settled in my core.

  I clenched my thighs together, this arousal like a living person inside me trying to take control.

  “What’s bullshit about it?” There was amusement in his voice, and although I shouldn’t look at him because it only made my need for him worse, I found myself doing just that.

  I stared at Mal’s profile, licking my lips and not knowing exactly how to respond. After a moment, I shrugged even though he didn’t see the act. “You seem like you hate me most of the time.”

  This had him snapping his head in my direction, his eyebrows furrowed as if that statement concerned him. He wore this unpleasant expression on his face and then looked back at the road. I heard the leather from the steering wheel creak because he tightened his hold on it.

  “Hate you?” He sounded almost pissed.

  Mal didn’t say anything for long seconds after responding, but I could still see it made him tense, which made me curious as hell as to what was going through his head.

  He finally exhaled roughly, took his free hand, and ran it over the back of his head. “No, Delilah. I don’t hate you. Far, far from it.”

  My heart did a little hiccup at that, but I didn’t respond. I felt pleasure at his statement, and although it really wasn’t anything monumental or intimate, hearing him say he felt the furthest thing from hate for me had my entire body warming almost uncomfortably.

  The rest of the ride to my house was done in silence, and it was tense and awkward, this weirdness hanging between us that had never been there before. I was used to sarcasm with him, banter, and the annoying jabs we gave each other. But this? This was uncharted territory, and I didn’t really like it. It made me feel… uncontrollable.

  I was letting my attraction for Mal take the front seat. It was far easier to let myself be annoyed by him. But acknowledged attraction? Feelings? That wasn’t something I wanted consuming me.

  But this was far more than simple attraction. And I knew I wasn’t even allowing myself to fully absorb the impact of it all. If I did… God, it would suffocate me.

  He pulled into my driveway and let the truck idle. I should have gotten out of there fast as hell, ended this weirdness that I felt, but I was rooted to the spot. I just sat there, picking at the edge of my shirt, feeling my backpack butt up against the tips of my toes. I sensed him looking at me and felt my cheeks heat from the intensity of his stare.

  “Are you going with Aiden to that party at the frat house tonight?”

  It took me a moment to fully hear what he said, my mind filled with things that were really inappropriate where Mal was concerned. I shook my head before I responded. “God, no. Parties aren’t really my… thing." I lifted my hand and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, not sure what else to say. He was still watching me so intently. “Besides, it’ll be kind of nice having the house to myself.”

  “House to yourself? Your parents are gonna be gone?”

  I nodded slowly and licked my lips again. God, get a hold of yourself. This was Mal. I’d known him for so long that I shouldn’t be acting so nervous. “My dad's taking my mom to the city. He got a couple nights off at work, so she pretty much forced him on a little getaway.”

  Mal leaned back in his seat and watched me still. So. Much. Intense. Watching. His posture relaxed some, but there was something behind his eyes that told me he was tense. Maybe just as much as I was.

  “Thank you,” I muttered, feeling weird and awkward, embarrassed even by how I was acting. I climbed out and got my bag, glancing up at him before I shut the door. He looked at me with a strange expression, although it was unreadable.

  I closed the door and quickly made my way to the front of the house, and right before I went in, I looked over my shoulder. Sure enough, Mal was watching me, his brows pulled down low in concentration, his lips in a severe line.

  I didn’t know what was happening between us, but it was foreign and unusual… and a part of me kind of liked it.

  5

  Mal

  Sweat poured off me, and my body ached from the grueling practice Coach just put us through... me specifically, seeing as he rode my ass about not concentrating.

  I was fucki
ng concentrating, just not on football. I couldn’t stop thinking about Delilah. She was on my mind constantly, but over the last couple of days, she’d really been consuming my thoughts, so much so that I couldn’t focus on anything but her.

  The way she bit her lip.

  The way she played with the ends of her hair.

  How she always smelled faintly like lemons.

  God, I was getting hard, my body not giving two shits that my teammates were surrounding me as I stood in the locker room.

  I closed my eyes and willed myself to get control, and when that didn’t work, I cursed, grabbed a change of clothes and my bag, and went into an empty stall. I wasn’t about to get undressed in front of anyone with this raging hard-on I sported.

  Once in the shower stall, my bag and clothes on the chair off in the corner so it wouldn’t get wet, I cranked on the water and turned it to frigid. I hoped it would help tame my arousal, but not even the coldness could bring me down.

  I wanted to just say fuck it and confront Delilah. I wanted to tell her how I felt. I chanced scaring her off, because what I felt for her couldn’t be called anything but consuming.

  I loved her, was so in love with her that it was unlike anything I could have imagined for myself. And being rough around the edges with her, getting under her skin, seeing that flair of annoyance come from her, that fiery passion in her eyes, turned me on so fucking much.

  I was hard whenever she was near. God. She didn’t even have to be around for me to be rock-solid. Just thinking about her—like right now—made me achy for her.

  I closed my eyes and breathed out. I could tell her everything as early as tonight, what with her parents being gone and Aiden going to that party. I talked to him earlier, and he went on about going balls to the wall, which meant he’d crash there.

  Delilah would be home alone. I could talk to her in private in her own space, where she felt comfortable.