Enemy Mine (Unseen Enemy Book 3)
Page 14
"Oh, my God," he said, panting. "Jenny. Christ, baby. That was amazing."
She was still wrapped around him, her legs clinging to his waist, her arms hugging his neck, but her face was hidden in his broad shoulder. Gently, he pulled her away from him, needing to see her eyes.
"Tell me how you are," he said softly.
"I'm – amazing. Perfect, actually," she said. "I loved it... every second of it."
He sighed in relief. "Me too."
"Yeah, I noticed." Her eyes were soft and teasing. "I thought you were going to break apart for a minute there."
"Damn close thing." Chris kissed her tenderly. "You really OK?"
"I promise. I'm great."
He leaned back now, slowly, pulling her down with him. He turned them a bit so she could lie on her side, with him still nestled deep inside her. She gave a low moan of pleasure at the continued contact and connection, and kissed him. They stayed like that for a few minutes, letting their breathing slow and calm, and then Chris gently slipped out of her.
He covered her with the blankets. "I'll be one minute."
She nodded and settled in to bed. When he came back, he took her in his arms right away, pulling her head down to his chest. Her long blonde hair spilled over his body, and he stroked it. She was sinking on to him, getting heavier and he smiled at the look of peace and contentment on her face. She was totally relaxed, minutes away from sleep.
Jenny felt like she was floating and she barely had the energy to mouth a kiss on Chris' gorgeous chest.
"Thank you," she whispered. "You just don't know what it means to me... what you've done for me." She closed her eyes, felt sleep start to take her away.
Chris heard her breathing change now, get deeper and slower, and he lay quiet under her. Then he said her name, and when she didn't respond, he repeated it. When she still didn't answer, he said the words he'd been longing to say for months.
The last thing Jenny thought she heard before she fell asleep was Chris whispering, “I love you, baby.” When she woke up the next morning, wrapped in his strong arms, she saw the look in his gray eyes and she knew that it hadn’t been a dream.
And she panicked. Completely.
Chapter Eleven
Chris was supposed to be checking the electrical system on a motorcycle, but he was having a hell of a time staying focused. He just couldn’t stop thinking about Jenny’s face when she'd woken up in his arms that morning. She’d stared at him for a few seconds and then without a word, she’d jumped out of bed and locked herself in the bathroom.
He’d been frozen with fear and worry and he’d knocked on the door for five minutes before she’d finally answered. Repeated requests for her to let him in had been refused, and she told him he should go to work, because she wasn’t coming out until he was gone. So now here he was, scared out of his mind and screwing up a job, wondering if she was afraid of him now that they’d make love.
But she seemed OK last night… she was so soft and sweet after. I thought last night was the beginning for us – I wanted to ask her if she’d be mine, and if I could be hers. Exclusive and formal and all that. Be together because we want to be together, not because I'm helping her as some kind of non-qualified sex surrogate. Goddammit. I must have done something to fuck up so bad. But what?
King sauntered over now. “What the fuck, Brooker?”
Chris glanced up at his boss. “What’s wrong?”
“Seriously?” King’s deep voice was a low growl. “You paying any attention at all to what you’re doing?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Bullshit, man.” King crossed his arms. “What’s going on?”
Chris was silent.
“Is it Jenny?”
Chris started. “How’d you know about her?”
“Jesus Christ, Chris. You’ve been on the phone with her every day for months. You think I’m a moron?”
“No.”
“No, it’s not Jenny, or no, I’m not a moron?”
“No, you aren’t a moron. And yes, it’s Jenny.”
King narrowed his gray eyes. “You want to tell me?”
Chris almost laughed out loud. At a towering and tattooed six-foot-three-inches and two-hundred-thirty pounds, with dark hair and dark gray eyes, King was the last person in the world who looked like he’d be up for a talk about feelings. Besides, he’d probably listen and then tell Chris to stop being such a fucking pussy and talk to the chick, already. Which would be great advice if he was sure she wasn’t utterly terrified of him.
“No, it’s OK, King. Thanks anyway.”
King stood there, not moving. “It wasn’t a request.”
“What?”
“When my best employee is acting like a fucking space cadet and screwing up easy work, I want to know where his head is. So tell me.”
Chris stared. “Really?”
King huffed. “Don’t get me wrong, man. I’m not thrilled to go all Oprah like this, but I can listen. So talk.”
“Uh… well. It’s kind of complicated.”
“It’s about a woman, Brooker. Of course it’s fucking complicated.”
So Chris told King about Jenny. Not everything, of course; he didn’t betray her confidence by going in to detail about her attack, but King got the idea. His hard, rugged face went still as he heard about Jenny’s fear of men, and his eyes flashed fire when Chris told him about her panic attacks.
“And then last night, we finally… we finally… you know.” Chris stuck his hands in his jeans pockets. “Made love.”
King sighed. “And is she OK?”
“I don’t know. She was last night. She fell asleep next to me, no problem. But when she woke up this morning, she took one look at me and locked herself in the bathroom.” Chris was quiet for a few seconds. “I heard her crying through the door, but she wouldn’t let me in.”
“Shit, Chris.” King actually looked distressed. “No wonder you’re all over the fucking place today.”
“I’m so worried that I scared her,” Chris said. “That all the progress we made is just… gone.”
King shook his head. “It’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t,” King admitted. “I guess I’m just hoping.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
**
“OK, Jenny.” Zoe leaned forward. “Why did you run and hide from Chris? Why didn’t you talk to him?”
Jenny was still shaking three hours later, and despite her professional calm and demeanor, Zoe was actually very worried about her. It seemed that Jenny was having some kind of extended panic attack, and the fact that she’d physically barricaded herself away from the man she trusted was a major regression in her behavior.
But why? What happened between them making love last night and her laying eyes on him this morning? Why has she totally shut him out like this?
“Jenny?”
“I – I just couldn’t face him.”
“Because you made love last night?”
“No.” Jenny wrapped her arms around herself. “Because he told me he loved me last night.”
“Ah.” Zoe exhaled. “I see.”
“I mean… how can he?” Jenny’s voice rose. “How can he love me? I’m – I’m damaged and dirty and… I’m just not worth having a relationship with!”
“So why are we doing all this, then?”
“All what?”
“This.” Zoe gestured around her office. “Therapy. Having Chris touch you. Kiss you. Give you pleasure. Make love to you. If the end goal is to not have a relationship – either with him or someone else – then just what the hell is the point of it all?”
Jenny gaped at her. In six years, Zoe’s tone had never been anywhere close to this harsh.
“Because if you really, truly believe that you’re damaged goods that nobody can or should ever lo
ve, Jenny, then you might as well get out of here now. Go get on with your lonely, sad little life. Because I can’t help you anymore.”
“You – what?”
“He’s a good man, Jenny. I know it, and you’d damn well better know it. And he loves you. Do you love him?”
“I – I… I don’t know.”
Zoe waited.
Jenny thought about that first day when Chris had stood between her and her front door, and the panic she’d felt. She remembered the first time he’d touched her hand, the first kiss they’d shared on the sofa. She thought about how good it had felt to watch him come, how good it had felt for him to make her come. Over four months, they’d gained ground inch by inch, fighting like hell to do so sometimes, but they’d done it. Somehow, they’d made it through together.
And last night… my God, what he’d done to her. He’d turned her inside out. He’d loved her, fully and completely, and here she was, rejecting that gift. After everything they’d been through together, she was pushing him away, and why? Because she was scared?
I’m so tired of being scared.
“Yes.” Jenny’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes. I do.”
“You do what?”
“I love him.”
“And why is that so frightening?”
Jenny shook her head.
“Honey,” Zoe said gently. “You have spent nearly four full months with this man in your home. For the past two months of that, he’s been in your bed. You know him, he knows you. You’ve been totally open and vulnerable with each other – physically, emotionally. You trust him.”
“Yes.”
“So when he tells you how he feels, you need to trust that.”
Jenny bit her lip.
“You want to try with him?” Zoe asked. “You want to give a name to what you have, to what’s between you?”
She looked down. “I – I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
I’m so fucking done with being scared.
“OK, yes.” She met Zoe’s eyes. “Yes, I want to be with him, like, for real. I want to call him my boyfriend. I want to move past the whole idea that he’s – he’s helping me get ready to be comfortable with some future man’s touch. I want – I want his touch. Just his.”
Zoe smiled. “That’s good, Jenny. Now. Go tell Chris.”
**
Emma walked in to the hair salon where Kat worked and looked around. No sign of her, so she stuck her head in to the staff room. She saw Kat’s boss back there drinking a cup of coffee and she smiled at him.
“Hey, Benny.”
“Hey, girl,” Benny said. “You here to get a cut?”
Emma laughed and ran her fingers through her still-short hair. “Not yet, but soon enough, believe me.”
“Yeah, it’s just as well.” Benny shrugged. “Your favorite stylist isn’t here today.”
Emma’s heart jumped. “No?”
“Nope. She hasn’t been in all week. Took four days off.”
“Starting when?”
“Uh. Three days ago.”
Goddammit, Kat. Where are you?
“Thanks,” she said. “Take care.”
“I always do, sweetie.”
Emma went to the café next door and ordered a cup of green tea. She sat near the windows and collected her thoughts, trying to decide what to do first. She thought about it, and then picked up her cell phone and called him. He answered on the second ring.
“Emma? You OK?”
“Jim.” She took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
“OK,” he said. “So what’s up, sweetheart?”
“I was wondering if you’d talked to Kat lately,” Emma said.
“Kat? No. Not for a week or so, I guess. Why?”
“Because none of us have.”
Emma could actually feel Jim’s energy shift and focus, even over the phone. “What?”
“Yeah.”
“Is she at work?”
“I just left there. Benny says she took four days off, starting three days ago.”
“Fuck. None of this is like her.”
“I know.”
They were both silent.
“OK,” Jim said. “I’ll go over to her place right now, check it out.”
“You’d do that?” she asked.
“Yeah. I don’t work until this evening, so it’s no big hassle.”
“God, Jim. Thank you.”
“No problem. I’ll call you once I’m there. OK?”
“Yes,” Emma said. “OK.”
**
Jim pulled up in front of Kat’s building, grateful to have found a parking spot for his bike so close to the door. He raised his collar against the late April drizzle, and ducked in to the lobby. He waited for the elevator, feeling an odd combination of fury and worry in the pit of his stomach.
If you’re up there, girl, I’ll kick your ass for scaring us all like this. Or I may kiss you for being OK after all. Damn you.
He stalked down the hall to the door of Kat’s apartment. He pounded on it, waited. There was no answer so he knocked again, louder.
“Kat!” he said. “Open up. Right now.”
Silence, and no movement inside.
“Kat? You in there?” He paused. “I swear to God… if you’re hiding out in there and not talking to me, I’ll be seriously pissed, I promise you.”
Still nothing.
At a loss, he looked around. He didn’t know any of Kat’s neighbors, had never even heard her mention anyone’s name. Undaunted, he walked next door and knocked there, then on the next door down. He kept trying until someone finally answered.
It was a young woman holding a baby on her hip. She kept the chain on the door and stood well back, her eyes widening at Jim’s size and scowl. He tried to look smaller and less-terrifying than he actually was.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m looking for my friend. Kat. She lives down the hall… you seen her lately?”
The woman looked puzzled. “Kat?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s she look like?”
“Uh, well, that’s hard to say.” Jim ran his hand over the back of his neck. “Her hair changes almost constantly. God only knows what color or length it is now.”
“Oh!” The woman looked enlightened. “Oh, yeah. Her.”
“So you do know her.”
“Sure. Me and my husband always bet what color her hair will be from week to week.”
Jim grinned.
“Anyway, no,” she said.
“No what?”
“No, I haven’t seen Kat lately. Not for a few days, for sure.”
Jim’s gut twisted, with fear now. “You sure?”
“Yeah, totally. Sorry.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Take care.”
He went back to the lobby and debated calling Emma, then decided against it. He knew he was being a fucking sexist jerk, but he didn’t want to worry her. He thought for another minute, then he called Dallas. And Jim was interested to notice that Dallas didn’t sound the slightest bit surprised at the news that Kat had gone missing.
Chapter Twelve
Jenny pulled up to King’s Garage and hesitated. The thought of walking in to a place owned and run by some guy with possibly-shady connections was a bit worrying. So was the fact that most everyone inside was going to be male.
OK, Jenny. Deep breath. Chris is in there, and if you want to talk to him right now, this is where you have to go. You’ll be fine. You're ready.
She opened her umbrella and walked in to the garage, looked around cautiously. It was huge inside, with huge men all over the damn place. She didn’t see Chris anywhere and a familiar feeling of panic started to settle over her.
“Can I help you?”
She whirled around to see a massive man. He was ferocious and tattooed and between her and the door. Her breath caught.
OK, calm down. Remember what you and Chris and Zoe have worked on. Remember that not every single man on the planet is a rapist. Right? Just talk to the guy, Jenny. Tell him what you want.
“Hi,” she squeaked. “I’m – I’m looking for Chris.”
The man gave her a narrow, intense look. “You Jenny?”
She jumped. “Uh, yeah. How’d you know?”
“Lucky guess.” He came closer and she stood still. “I’m King.” Cautiously, he extended his large hand. “Good to meet you.”
She looked down at his hand. It suddenly occurred to her that the third man she was actually going to touch in more than six years was a possible criminal.
This is Chris' boss and he's not going to hurt you. Just shake the man’s hand.
She reached out. “Good to meet you too.” His grip was surprisingly gentle, and she saw real kindness in those gray eyes. They looked a bit like Chris’, and her chest tightened at the thought that she may have screwed everything up with him.
He smiled. “Chris is upstairs. You go on through, hon.”
“Thanks,” she said.
Jenny walked up the stairs, trying to ignore the fear building in her stomach. What if he was so angry he wouldn’t listen to her? What if she’d lost him?
She reached the top of the stairs and looked around. “Chris!” she called softly.
A door at the end of the hall opened and there he stood. He was huge and gorgeous and she ached to kiss him. All she wanted was to be in bed with him, with him deep inside her body, giving her pleasure, taking pleasure from her.
“Jenny!” He was shocked. “What are you doing here? My God… are you OK?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
He bolted down the hall to her, then he remembered her reaction to him that morning, and he stopped dead.
Don’t scare her, man. Just keep away from her until she tells you otherwise.