Sleeping With The Enemy

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Sleeping With The Enemy Page 31

by Parker, Ali


  There was no way in hell I was giving it up.

  Chapter 50

  Tyson

  I hopped out of the car and rushed inside my favorite Italian restaurant. I picked up the order I had called in, checking the time. I was cutting it close. I got distracted at work looking at a new series of artifacts from an ancient tomb that were being made available soon. I was the proverbial kid in a candy store when I saw things like that.

  “Home, please, quickly,” I said to the driver.

  “Yes, sir,” he said and hit the gas.

  It was moments like these I strongly considered buying a smaller car to be carried around in. The large, roomy car was comfortable, but it wasn’t exactly designed for weaving in and out of traffic. By the time we made it to my house, I was in a small panic. I was relieved to find Mae was not there waiting for me.

  I rushed inside, doing a quick pit check, and didn’t detect any offending odors as I moved to the kitchen. Truthfully, my plan was to attempt to cook for her. That didn’t happen. Now, I was going to try and deceive her. I would beg for forgiveness later. I grabbed two plates and began to dish up the lasagna. I only got one plate filled before I heard the doorbell.

  “Shit, dammit, shit,” I muttered, looking around at the evidence. “Fuck it.”

  There was nothing to do about it. I walked to the door and greeted her. “Hello.”

  “Hi. Am I early?”

  “No, not at all. Come in.”

  “It smells delicious.”

  I smiled, confessing nothing. “Can I pour you some wine?”

  “Sure,” she answered.

  I showed her into the dining room that opened to the kitchen but there was a high center island that would hopefully block her view of my little deception. I pulled out a chair. “Have a seat. You’re probably exhausted after a long day.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How is Hayden?” I asked as I handed her a glass of wine.

  “She’s good.”

  The way she answered it told me there was more to it. I wouldn’t pry. “Dinner will be ready in just a minute.”

  I walked back to the kitchen and casually dished up another plate of lasagna before grabbing a bowl and dumping the sliced garlic bread into it. My back was to Mae as I opened up the green salad. My plan was to put it in a bowl as well.

  “You are not going to try and convince me you prepared all this, are you?”

  I spun around. She was looking at me with an amused smile. There was no point in trying to lie. “No.”

  “Liar.”

  “I did intend to cook for you, but I got busy. No, that’s not true. I got distracted by a new collection being readied for the market. I didn’t realize the time until it was too late.”

  “I know you better than that. You don’t cook.”

  “Hey,” I protested. “I’ve been learning. I don’t cook like this, but I can make lasagna. It’s not terribly difficult.”

  “You might have to give me cooking lessons. Poor Hayden is going to die of starvation or malnutrition with my cooking skills.”

  I liked the sound of that. “I would love to.” I couldn’t hide my heated look. She turned me on. I didn’t care that she was still mad at me. She was fucking beautiful.

  “Can I help with anything?”

  I looked around the kitchen. “I think the heavy lifting is done. You can carry our plates to the table. I was going to dump this salad in a bowl, but I don’t suppose there is any point now.”

  She grinned, shaking her head. “No need to dirty another dish. Not that you have to wash them.”

  “Hey, I sometimes put them in the dishwasher.”

  She laughed as she carried the plates to the table. “Sure, you do.”

  “I said sometimes.”

  I carried the salad and bread and directed her to the utensils while I poured myself a glass of wine. We took our seats, and thankfully, there was none of that uncomfortableness. It was very easy to be with her. I enjoyed sharing meals with her. Hell, I just enjoyed being near her.

  “What artifacts were you looking at?” she asked.

  I laughed. “I’m afraid to tell you.”

  Instead of being offended, she laughed. “Good point.”

  “Is there any news about the boy Hayden was crushing on?” I asked her.

  She rolled her eyes. “The boy, Jared, wants to make it official. He asked her to be his girlfriend.”

  “And she said?”

  “She would think about it.”

  That made me laugh. “She’s a true Kendell woman.”

  “I worry about her, but I think she’s far more mature than the average thirteen-year-old.”

  I slowly nodded. “And she has you to guide her.”

  She took a bite of her lasagna. “So good.”

  “It is my favorite place.”

  “Do you have a regular table there as well?” she teased.

  “I do, but I swear, I don’t always eat out. I think it’s because I tip well.”

  “I think you are very right,” she said with a laugh.

  “How about the parents?” I questioned, knowing it was a touchy subject. I wanted to believe we were at a point in our relationship—even if it wasn’t technically a relationship—that she felt comfortable talking to me about things. I knew it was a big part of her life.

  She blew out a breath. “Hayden wants to visit them. I discouraged her. I don’t want her having anything to do with them. Not until they are healthy.”

  “I think that is a very good idea. You know better than anyone.”

  “Yes, I do. I hope she will heed my warning. How terrible is it that I’m hoping she will have a boyfriend at the ripe age of thirteen? Anything to keep her mind off them.”

  “I don’t think it’s terrible,” I replied. “It’s the lesser of two evils.”

  She laughed. “I wasn’t much older than her when we started sneaking around.”

  I remembered those days very well. Those days were still some of the best days of my life. “I remember.”

  “It was exciting back then, huh?”

  “It was very exciting.”

  She looked at me with such sweetness and adoration I nearly melted. “I’m glad I wasn’t thirteen.”

  I laughed. “Me too. That would have been grounds for throwing my ass in prison.”

  “Patrick would not have let you survive if he had known.”

  “I’m glad he did not know,” I told her. “I don’t think I could have stopped seeing you. I would have risked his wrath. I would have risked everything to be with you.”

  She looked down before meeting my eyes. “Me too. Isn’t that crazy? I tried to explain it to Hayden.”

  “Us?” I asked with surprise.

  “No. That first love. There is nothing that can compare with your first love. I warned her to be careful because once you fall in love that first time, it is impossible to recover.”

  I nodded in agreement. “You are so right.”

  “I’m hoping she will be able to talk to me if she decides this guy is her first love. I explained that feeling that you can’t describe.”

  “When you know, you know.”

  “Exactly,” she agreed. “I don’t want her to have regrets.”

  “Do you have regrets?” I questioned.

  She offered me a shy smile. “No.”

  “Me either.”

  “Have you ever been in love?” she asked.

  “Just once,” I told her.

  “Me too,” she breathed.

  “I won’t try to pretend I’ve lived the life of a monk, but I’ve only had one meaningful relationship in my entire life.”

  “Really?”

  I slowly nodded. “Really. I’ve dated. I’ve attempted to be in a relationship or two, but it never works. I’m a dick. At least, that’s what I’ve been told. I don’t call them back. I don’t pay attention. I don’t open up. The list of my character flaws is very long apparently.”

  She la
ughed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. I think the people who pointed out your character flaws were obviously upset that you weren’t giving them the attention they wanted or needed. You are not that kind of man. Those women should have understood that from the beginning.”

  I nodded. I wasn’t sure how I felt about her statement. Was she saying I was a selfish boyfriend? I hoped I never did that to her. I didn’t know what to say. I did what I always did when I was presented with a confusing and a little upsetting situation. “I wish I had dessert to offer you,” I said as I got to my feet.

  “I’m good.”

  I carried both our plates to the sink. I debated what to say. Did I let it ride? Did I address it? “I hope I didn’t neglect you,” I said.

  I turned around to look at her sitting at my table.

  She finished the glass of wine. “I didn’t feel neglected.”

  “Was I neglectful?”

  She grinned. “Not to me.”

  That made me feel better. She rose from the table, carrying the bowl of bread to the kitchen. I watched her move. She was so damn beautiful. “Thank God. I don’t think I could have forgiven myself if I mistreated you.”

  “You didn’t. Were you being serious when you said you have never been in a relationship?”

  “I was. I’ve tried, but like I said, it just never worked. I was a shitty boyfriend. I’m not sure I ever reached boyfriend status technically. I didn’t call. I didn’t remember special days. I was really bad at it and the worst part was, I didn’t give a shit.”

  She walked around the edge of the counter, stepping close to me. Her hand reached up to touch my cheek. “Why?”

  “Why what?” I asked, feeling a little dumb. I couldn’t remember what we were talking about. My heart, lungs, every nerve in my body were tuned into her and the gentle touch on my cheek.

  “Why were you a bad boyfriend? You were a great secret boyfriend to me. You remembered everything. You snuck me flowers and would do little things like make me a sandwich when you thought I was hungry. When Patrick asked you why, you always claimed you were hungry and wanted one for yourself and thought to make me one. You were very attentive. You were a very good boyfriend.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Really, thank you. I didn’t really understand how much those comments bothered me until just now. I didn’t want to be a bad boyfriend. I didn’t want to be a dick. I just didn’t really care.”

  She stepped closer and looked into my eyes. “You cared enough about me to be a very good boyfriend. I told Hayden not to have any regrets. I have one regret about all that.”

  “What is that?”

  “I regret that it had to be a secret. I think things could have been very different for us if we weren’t forced to keep it a secret. I hate that we couldn’t be open about our feelings for one another. I think it led to a lot of hurt feelings.”

  I slowly nodded. “Me too.”

  “If you could go back, would you change things?”

  “How so?”

  “Would you have left me be?”

  I smirked. “Not a chance in hell.”

  That earned a bright smile from her. “Good answer,” she breathed and pressed her lips to mine.

  I didn’t hesitate to pull her against me. My mouth moved over hers. She started the kiss, but I was going to finish it. It had been too long since I touched her. Too long since I tasted her. Kissing her and being near her had been on my mind for days. Having her in my arms was not something I was going to squander.

  “I need you,” I whispered against her lips. “More than anything, I need you.”

  She answered with another searing kiss that changed the energy in the room. My need was no longer something I could manage and control. It was driving me. It was controlling me. All I could think about was being inside her sweet, wet heat. Right. That. Minute.

  Chapter 51

  Mae

  I shushed the nagging voice in the back of my head telling me to stop. That bitch needed to sit down and let me enjoy the hot man in my hands.

  Tyson was my addiction. I craved his touch. I craved his kisses, and of course, I craved his body pressed against mine, plunging inside me. I needed him like I needed air, which was dangerous and stupid. I tried to shut off that need but being close to him made that impossible.

  I reached for the button on his jeans. I was not a weak, shy woman. I wanted sex and I was not afraid to make the first move. It was an old dance between us. One we both knew very well. While I worked at his jeans, he fumbled to lift my shirt over my head. I stopped long enough to lift my arms and let him discard the shirt on the kitchen floor. Then I attacked his jeans with real gusto. I pushed them down his legs and dropped to my knees in front of him. My plan was to get the jeans all the way off, but I was immediately distracted by his manhood at eye level.

  I reached for his erection, and without even thinking twice about what I wanted, I ran my tongue over the head of his cock. I closed my eyes, savoring the raw strength of him as I slid my mouth down the hard length.

  He sucked in a breath, his hands moving into my hair. His fingertips massaged my skull as I moved over him, sliding my tongue over his length and sucking hard. The sounds from him above me told me he was enjoying it, even if it did sound like he was in excruciating pain.

  “Mae, my god, Mae,” he whispered. The way he said it made it sound like he was in the throes of a wild, erotic dream. I relished the power I wielded over him in that moment. I had the power to give him great pleasure. I controlled how much I gave.

  I was suddenly ravenous. I craved the power as much as I craved him. I moved faster, sucking on him. I reached up and dug my nails into his bare ass and held him close to my face.

  “Holy fuck,” he groaned before violently jerking away from me. A popping sound echoed around the room when he pulled his dick from my sucking mouth.

  I looked up at him and grinned. I felt a little drunk. It wasn’t alcohol that was making me feel heady. It was passion and pleasure and power.

  His eyes met mine. His jaw was clenched, and his chest heaved. In a flash of movement, he bent forward, stuck his hands under my armpits and lifted me to my feet. He attacked my pants with a furious need. I could do nothing but stand still while he finished stripping me.

  I stood before him, naked except for my bra. A chill raced down my spine, but it had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. It was all due to the look in his eyes. Without warning, he lifted me once again, dropping me on the cool, smooth countertop.

  I gasped with shock. For a flash of a second, I felt very exposed and naughty. Then I remembered I was an adult and fucking the man I cared a great deal about in the kitchen of his very nice home was perfectly acceptable. We didn’t have to hide. I didn’t have to be ashamed. Once I gave myself the permission I needed, I gave over to the thrill of being naughty.

  “Open your legs,” he ordered.

  I very slowly and purposely opened my legs and watched as he stepped between them. I reached out and cupped his cheek, staring into his eyes. The man had to know he had my heart. He’d always had it. I was doing my best not to let him know, but I didn’t think I was doing a very good job.

  “Tyson,” I breathed. I was saying so much with just the one word. He seemed to understand.

  “I know,” he answered. “I know.”

  His mouth slammed over mine. I opened wide, taking his tongue inside my mouth and sucking and nibbling at his. While he kissed me, his hand moved between my legs. I moaned into his mouth when his finger moved over my sensitive flesh. I was already halfway to an orgasm. Giving him pleasure had excited me. Hell, being near him excited me.

  I yanked at the shirt he was wearing. I needed to feel his chest against mine. He pulled his hand from between my legs and quickly removed his shirt before he got right back to what he had been doing. One long finger slid inside, drawing out a loud groan from my lips. I leaned my head back and let myself float away on the pleasure he was bringing me. The inte
nsity of his finger rubbing over my swollen flesh forced me to be present. I reached for his shoulders and drew him in closer as I slid my body dangerously close to the edge of the counter.

  “I need you,” I groaned.

  “You have me.”

  “Tyson,” I begged.

  He squeezed in a second finger, stretching me and giving me that last little bit of pleasure I needed to sail over the cliff of an orgasm. I cried out, my body bucking forward. He wrapped one arm around my waist, serving as an anchor as I roared with pleasure.

  His mouth dropped to my neck, sucking the flesh between his teeth and drawing out the ecstasy. The moment I was able to breathe again, he removed his fingers and stepped close to me. “God, how I have wanted this,” he whispered. “I dream of you all night, every night. It’s always you. It has always been you.”

  His sweet words echoed through my brain. This was the Tyson I felt like only I knew. It was his secret identity. It was his Superman side. The man could be soft and sweet and a total opposite to that awkward aloofness he presented to the world. This was my Tyson.

  “I want you,” I told him. The words meant so much more than the physical sense. I wanted him. Damn, if I knew what to do with that confession, but I wanted him.

  “You have me,” he answered.

  He reached for his heavy cock and guided it to my opening before pushing inside with one hard thrust. He felt bigger than before. He felt more intense and powerful as his body moved inside me. His mouth covered mine, his tongue imitating what was happening below. I felt my bra being unhooked and without ever taking his mouth from mine, he pulled it away. His hard chest pressed against my breasts. My sensitive nipples rubbed over the rippled strength covered by a smattering of chest hair that tickled and teased.

  I wrapped my arms around him and held on for dear life. He moved fast, his hands dropping to my hips to keep from sliding across the counter and dropping on my ass on the other side. The pace became frantic, both of us racing toward the climax waiting for us.

 

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