My Hot Enemy – Southern Heat Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 59659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)

Worst birthday ever…The plan was to turn thirty and inherit my grandpa’s store,Not for the board to sell controlling interest right out from under me.Victor, the new owner, is handsome as sin and twice as arrogant.He’s determined to be hands-on with my business.The problem is, I want his hands on me.A tornado rages. Passion flares.Huddled in the storm shelter together, Victor and I give in to our attraction.My family’s legacy takes a direct hit, and I’m devastated. Now the business we fought over may be damaged beyond repair,And my heart is on the line.Not to mention, there’s a little secret I’m carrying,That could change everything.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



“That’ll be all, sir?”

I snapped out of the daydream and tried to refocus on the man in front of me. He was tall and gangly. Yet, he looked thirty-five and sixteen at the same time, and I couldn’t tell which.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, this is it. Oh, and sixty on pump number eight,” I said, stumbling over my words as I tried to regain control over my own mind.

“You okay, sir?” he asked, a note of squeak in his voice making me lean toward the sixteen scale.

“Yeah, fine,” I said. “Just a long drive.”

“Oh, where you headed?” he asked.

“Texas,” I said. “Little town called Murdock.”

“That’s a long way, mister,” he said. “Drive safe.”

“It’s why I got these,” I said, shaking the twelve pack of energy drinks.

He laughed, and I smiled as best I could manage and headed out of the door. I knew the energy drinks were bad for me, but for a couple of years, I had been banned from drinking them by my now ex-wife, who refused to believe that anything that wasn’t her own personal favorite items should be inside the house.

For the first several years, she had been quite amiable and even funny. We’d spent lots of time joking about how people took life far too seriously, even when we were, in fact, working like people who took life way too seriously. When we got married, we both seemed to think life would just follow a pattern, a script almost. Assuming that one day we would be rich and successful and have two kids and a white picket fence and a dog and live the life you saw in magazines.

This was not how it worked out.

Instead of a marriage full of laughter, it had been a laughable excuse for a marriage for quite some time. We both worked constantly, rarely ever seeing one another except at the office or in bed. And bed was just a place we slept. For almost a decade, the two of us, both investment bankers, competed for clients at a consulting firm that we’d started, egging each other on to drive our mutual incomes higher and higher.

At first, it was fun. We were young and making a lot of money and had no responsibilities to anyone but ourselves. We moved to Baltimore and bought a giant house and fancy cars and spent every day building a company that we thought we’d be able to retire from at fifty and be multi-millionaires, ready to see the world and vacation on pink sand beaches until we croaked.

But the competition never seemed to stop. Neither did the grind. And when the going got tough, well, it just got tougher. We fought, usually over stupid things that we wouldn’t have fought about if we’d spent more time together. We stopped enjoying things together, preferring to spend our time apart instead of being forced to be together. Then we started sleeping separately. Always blaming late night work, I slept on the couch while she took the bed. I rationalized it as a hiccup we would overcome.

Eventually, I started seeing signs that she might have found a lover on the side, but I didn’t have time to confront her before she sat me down and told me she was unhappy. That had been a long night. She’d told me there was no one else, but I knew that if there was no one particular person, there might have been a few that just weren’t regulars. God knew I had the opportunity myself, but I just never took advantage it.

Maybe she never did either. but the constant text messages and the way she would hide away all the time got me suspicious. I was tempted to breach the marital trust and go through her phone or her email, but by the time I felt like I should, I realized it didn’t matter. If I didn’t trust her enough to think she was cheating on me, the marriage was already done.

So, when she told me she was unhappy, I agreed. So was I. I just didn’t really internalize how unhappy I was until I got away from her. I volunteered to take the vacation house we had bought the year before and sleep there. It was in Ocean City, Maryland, a good distance away from Baltimore, but I was willing to travel back and forth.

I was also willing to work things out if she wanted to try.

However after a week, she claimed that she thought I was only staying in Ocean City, so I could have women there that she didn’t know about. I told her she could watch the surveillance footage on an app at any time, showing the cameras at both doors, but her mind was made up. She didn’t trust me, and she didn’t think things were going to work out. Just a week of trying to live separate was enough to convince her that we should just end things.