Enemy Mine (Unseen Enemy Book 3)

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Enemy Mine (Unseen Enemy Book 3) Page 5

by Marysol James


  “You want me, Emma?” he whispered in her ear.

  “Yes.” She gasped as he guided his cock to her wet entrance and dipped in to her before pulling out again. “God, yes.”

  “I want you to come on my cock, baby.” He pushed in to her again, a bit farther this time, before withdrawing. “I want you to come hard.”

  She gripped his hips, trying to pull him inside her, but he held back.

  “Promise me you’ll come hard for me, Emma.” He placed the throbbing tip inside her, then stopped. “Say it.”

  “Dean.” Her voice was hot and breathless. “I’m going to come for you. Hard.”

  “Let’s see it, baby.”

  He pulled back and then in one thrust, he filled her. He pushed deeper, then deeper still. She gave a cry and wrapped her whole body around him; she was off the bed, clinging to him, tight and wet and begging.

  Dean slid his hands under her ass, lifted her against him, angling his hips to reach as far in to her as possible. She threw her head back and he ran his tongue down the length of her throat. She gripped his broad shoulders and moaned, long and loud.

  He stared down at her gorgeous face, her cheeks flushed, her mouth swollen and luscious. She closed her eyes as her orgasm started to build, and she met Dean thrust for thrust, reaching for that release that was so close… just a bit more.

  A bit more. A bit harder. Oh, God… there.

  His name fell from her lips over and over again as she came, her pussy tightening and relaxing on him. The clenching on his cock sent his whole body in to overdrive, and he heard himself call her name as he released inside her, tensing and flexing, pushing in to her tight channel. His whole body strained, shuddered, then collapsed. He held his weight off her body, lowered his lips to hers.

  Emma kissed him, exhausted and sated. He ran his tongue over her mouth, probing, and she opened to him. They kissed again, deeply, slowly. Tasting each other; teasing each other.

  Dean lowered his forehead to Emma’s, gently brushed his fingertips over her cheeks.

  “You OK, angel?”

  She mumbled and he laughed.

  “Was that a yes?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He rolled to his side, pulling her with him. He stayed inside her, clutching her tight against his hips. “Was I too rough?”

  She opened her eyes. “No way. I loved it.”

  “Yeah, me too.” He touched her lips. “I love you.”

  “Oh, Dean. I love you too.”

  Her kissed again, hard, and she moaned. He chuckled.

  “When you make that sound, I just want to make love to you again.”

  “That sounds good to me.”

  They grinned at each other and then Dean slowly pulled out of her. He covered Emma’s small body with the blankets and swung his feet to the floor. She watched his taut back as he went in to her attached bathroom, and sighed.

  Good God, is he hot or what?

  He came back to her now, climbed in to her bed. He took her in his large arms, tucked her head under his chin. She ran her fingers over his chest, following the line of blond hair across his defined pecs and abs. He kissed her fingertips, held them against his chest. She felt his steady heartbeat and smiled.

  “So,” Dean said. “You want to order in tonight?”

  “Sure.” Emma kissed his chest. “Restaurants require so many clothes.”

  “Yeah. Annoying.”

  They kissed again, then Dean rolled away.

  “I need a quick shower. You want to join me?”

  “But of course. Just let me open the wine, OK? Let it breathe.”

  “OK, angel. Meet me in the shower. I’ll be the naked guy.”

  She laughed and got out of bed too. She pulled on her bathrobe and padded down the hallway to her spacious living room. She found the white wine, opened it up, set it on the counter. That was when she saw that the mail had arrived; it sat on the carpet just inside her apartment door, and she bent over to pick it up. She idly flipped through the letters, and when she saw the one from the University of Colorado Hospital, she paused.

  Huh. What’s this?

  She ripped it open and when she saw the letter, she froze in disbelief. When she flipped to the second page, then the third, then the fourth, she felt all the breath leave her body.

  This has got to be a huge mistake. Oh, my God.

  She sat down on the sofa and read the last three pages again, went over every single item listed on them. She was horrified to realize that actually, yes, this was accurate. She had indeed had every single one of those treatments, procedures, and surgeries.

  But I have medical insurance! How is this possible?

  And that’s how Dean found her a few minutes later. He wandered in to the living room, a towel wrapped around his lower body.

  “Hey, I thought you were going to join me.” Dean smiled at her, then saw her face and he started in alarm. “Emma? What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “I – I got a letter from the hospital.”

  Dean immediately sat next to her. “What happened?” His whole body was tense with worry.

  “It’s a bill.”

  He paused. “A bill?”

  “Yeah. The outstanding amount that I owe, after my medical insurance has covered their part.”

  “OK,” he said calmly. “How much is it?”

  She stared down at the letter in her hand.

  “Emma? How much?”

  She looked up again. “Just over five hundred thousand dollars.”

  He almost fell of the sofa. “What the fuck?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I see?”

  She handed it to him, and watched his face as he skimmed the pages. He looked up at her.

  “Maybe this is just a summary of stuff, Emma. Why don’t you take it to the HR department of your office and ask them what’s happening?” He tried to keep his voice level. “It may all be a big misunderstanding.”

  She twisted her fingers together. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go tomorrow and talk to Helen Carrow. She’ll know what’s going on.”

  “OK, angel.” He studied her face. “You doing alright?”

  “Yeah. It was a shock, but I’ll find out what’s going on before I start to panic.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll go see Helen first thing in the morning.”

  **

  Dallas looked up from his laptop to see Olivia standing in his office doorway. He grinned at her and spun in his chair.

  “Hey there. How was everything at the shelter?”

  “Good, actually.” She walked over to him and he pulled her in to his lap. “I helped Trish and Lily move in to their new apartment.”

  “They happy?”

  “Happy and nervous.” Olivia ran her fingers over his strong forearms. “Even though Trish’s ex is in jail, and will be for a few years, she’s still scared. But Lily loves her new bedroom… she’s thrilled that we painted it purple and white for her. I think they’ll be OK, in a little while.”

  Dallas nodded. He’d met the families at the shelter for battered women and children that Olivia had started and which she now supported and funded, and they all had the same look in their eyes: stark fear, mixed with a startling commitment to get on with their lives, despite their abusive spouses and fathers. He’d never seen such astounding physical embodiments of hope before, in the whole of his life.

  He gazed up at Olivia now, wondering how she was doing with her own internal battles. He reached up and stroked her cheek, the one with the scar. She didn’t flinch this time, so he saw that as progress. Dallas placed his large hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in for a gentle kiss. She curled her fingers around his t-shirt and responded sweetly, but he sensed tension in her body.

  He pulled back, looked in to her eyes. “You OK?”
<
br />   She nodded. “I was thinking…”

  “About what?”

  “About Jenny.”

  He leaned back. “Yeah. Chris moved in this morning, huh?’

  “He did. She’s just so determined to do this, you know? To get on with her life, to get past it all.”

  “I know.”

  “Yeah. You do.”

  Their eyes met. Dallas knew exactly what had happened to Jenny six years ago, and even though he and Olivia had never really talked about it, she knew he knew. She wondered how much Chris knew now, when Jenny would tell him everything.

  “Anyway,” she said. “I was thinking… if Jenny can be this brave and face down her demons, then what’s stopping me? I mean, hers are way worse than mine, right?”

  Dallas looked up. “Hey, this is not a competition, and it’s not a race. People face things when they’re ready. Jenny wasn’t ready before now, and I don’t want you pushing yourself to do anything. Don’t compare yourself to her, and don’t feel bad if you need more time.”

  “But you…” she said softly.

  “What about me?”

  “Will you really wait until I’m ready?”

  “Hell, yeah, baby.” He kissed her. “You know that, don’t you?”

  “Sometimes.” She spoke in a small voice.

  “Well, I want you to know it all the time. You hear me, Olivia? I can wait. I will wait. You tell me when you want to make love, and I’ll be there with bells on and nothing else, sweetheart. Before then? I’m just happy to get in to bed and hold you every night. I need you next to me, Olivia, I need to know that you’re safe and whole. And that’s all I need.” He held her brown eyes. “OK?”

  “OK,” she whispered.

  “I love you,” he said. “I want you close to me. I need to hold you. Everything else, it can wait.”

  **

  Jenny looked over at Chris and smiled. They’d spent the whole day at home together, watching movies, cooking, talking. She was astounded that she was as relaxed and comfortable as she was. She hadn’t had a single moment of panic – not even when Chris’ hand accidentally brushed against hers as she handed him the plate of food she’d just dished out for him. She had jumped a bit at the shock of contact, but then she’d looked up into his warm eyes and it had passed.

  Chris looked over at her now and smiled back.

  “So,” he said. “I think I’ll start to get ready to turn in.”

  Jenny glanced at the clock. “This your usual bedtime during the work week?”

  “Yeah, mostly. I like to get up early and go to the gym before heading to the garage.”

  “Huh.” Her eyes ran over his chest and shoulders in his white t-shirt. “So that’s how you’ve held on to your muscles since leaving active duty.”

  He grinned. “Yep. This body doesn’t come naturally, girl.”

  She grinned back.

  Chris got to his feet and hovered for a few seconds, unsure. “I really want to give you a hug goodnight, but I know it’s way too soon. Can I just touch your hand again?”

  Jenny nodded and extended her hands to him, no hesitation at all. He came over to the chair she was in, took both hands gently in his, pulled her to her feet slowly. She went willingly, but then a small stab of fear pulsed in her chest before she could stop it.

  Chris stood still, both of her small hands in his huge ones, looking down at her. They stayed like that, just breathing and gazing at each other, and then he carefully squeezed her hands.

  “Goodnight, Jenny.”

  “Goodnight, Chris.”

  She watched him head for the stairs and she sat again, her knees a bit weak under her. She still couldn’t quite believe that she was able to touch him without losing her mind, that she’d let him close to her. More surprisingly, she’d found herself looking at his body all that day, taking note of his chest, his back, his arms.

  She knew damn well that in her life before – before it had all happened – she’d have been drooling over Chris if she’d met him. She was damaged; she wasn’t blind. And he was, frankly, hot. Like, scorching hot. His body was amazing, he was handsome, he was kind, he made her laugh. Even from the very beginning, she’d been able to see him through her fear, and she’d been very aware of Chris’ physical attributes without once being attracted to them. But today… something had changed today.

  Maybe it’s because you know that you can touch that body, if you want to; you can kiss those lips, if you want to. That body could make you feel good. You could make Chris feel good, too.

  The idea of doing those things terrified her, but conversely, knowing that it was within her control if those things happened or not made her feel safe. There was power and security in knowing that he wouldn’t do anything to her without her saying that it was OK. All she had to do was ask, and he’d hold her, kiss her. Or not, if she didn’t ask.

  This is what choice with a man is all about, Jenny. Doing what feels good, when you’re ready to do it. You’ve forgotten this ability to choose; you had yours taken away, but it wasn’t taken away forever. You have it back now.

  Now she just had to decide what the hell she was going to do with it.

  **

  Helen Carrow glanced up as Emma entered her office. Helen blinked at the short hair – Emma had always had the thickest, most gorgeous dark curls – and then she sat back in her chair and braced herself. If Emma was here in person, it was bound to be bad news. It would also involve more work for Helen, she was sure.

  Goddammit. I just can’t deal with any of this woman’s drama today.

  Emma smiled at Helen, determined to be polite. The woman was a grade-A bitch almost all of the time, to almost everyone, but she was an HR wiz, and she knew the ins and outs of the healthcare system better than anyone. If Emma wanted to have a prayer of successfully navigating the bewildering world of medical insurance, she’d do well to have Helen on her side.

  OK, be nice, now. Even if it kills you.

  “Hi, Helen,” she said. “How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  Emma paused. Yeah, I’m fine too, thanks for asking. “Have you got a moment? I’d like to ask for your help with something.”

  Helen nodded stiffly. “Of course.”

  Emma sat down, looked at Helen’s body language. Closed, tight. As always. She looked at the woman’s face, and she wondered how it would look if Helen produced a genuine smile, one that reached those cold blue eyes. Emma had seen Helen turn up the corners of her mouth, but she’d never seen the woman smile.

  Emma reached in to her purse. “I got this bill from the hospital yesterday.” She handed it over to Helen. “And I was wondering if it was accurate.”

  Helen glanced over the itemized list of services, her face impassive, almost disinterested. “Did you have all these procedures and treatments?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then what’s the issue?” Helen set down the papers on her immaculate desk.

  “I’m just wondering if any of them are covered by my insurance here at work.”

  Helen raised her almost non-existent eyebrows. “Why would we cover them?”

  That stopped Emma. “Well, when I first told Ned about being sick, he told me to take as much time as I needed, and he said I shouldn’t worry anything… that I have amazing medical insurance here.”

  “Doctor Granger was correct.” Helen had worked for Ned Granger for seven years, and she had yet to call him by his first name. “You do have amazing insurance. If you didn’t, I can tell you that this bill would be easily double what it is.”

  Emma stared at her. “But… so… this is the correct amount due?”

  Helen shrugged. “I’ll call and ask for you. But I can tell you that for what you’ve received in terms of treatment, five hundred thousand dollars looks conservative to me. That tells me that a large portio
n of your treatment over the past eight months has indeed been covered, and this is the residual amount.”

  “I see.” Emma took a deep breath. “And what about future treatment?”

  “What are you still having done?”

  “Chemo once a month, for sure. Oral tablets, weekly blood tests. That’s what I know about, but there may be more.”

  Helen shrugged again. “Well, your chemo will be covered once every two months, as usual. Your tablets will be partially covered, but not fully. And blood tests are covered up to a certain amount. I can check what it is.”

  “Thank you.” Emma forced herself to smile. “I appreciate your help, Helen.”

  “It’s my job.”

  “Yes, well. Thanks anyway.” Emma got to her feet and headed for the door.

  “Your bill?” Helen said.

  “Oh, no. That’s a copy,” Emma said. “I have the originals, if you need them.”

  “This is fine.”

  “OK, thanks. I’ll wait to hear from you then.”

  “Uh-huh. Bye.”

  Emma made her way through the office, warmly greeting her former colleagues and a few of her former patients. She desperately missed working for the mental health clinic, and she was hoping to come back to work in about six months. She and Dean had talked about her slowly taking on a few hours a week – maybe twelve – and working her way back up to a full-time schedule in about a year.

  But if she was really on the hook for half-a-million dollars, with more to come, then she’d definitely have to rethink things. She may have to get back to work sooner, start earning again. She’d been living off her savings since she’d gotten too sick to work, and she was still OK. Not great, but fine. Enough for her mortgage and food, and that was the extent of her needs, really.

  But fuck me. If I have to find close to a million dollars, I’d better get my ass back here ASAP.

  **

  “Five hundred thousand dollars? With more to come?” Liv was thunderstruck. “What the hell, Em?”

 

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