Enemy Lovers

by Shelley Munro

  “Yes.”

  A frown creased her forehead. “I’m not very good with pain.”

  He moved closer and stepped into bossy mode. He slipped his arm around her tense shoulders and drew her against him. She sighed and gingerly relaxed. “Don’t worry about that. I know what I’m doing. You’re safe with me.” With the tip of his finger under her chin, he directed her gaze to meet his. “We’ll take things at your pace. I promise.”

  “How did you learn this stuff?”

  “Your family would say I practiced a lot with other women.”

  Laura pulled a face. “You smell nice.”

  “Thanks.” He smiled against her hair. Never in his wildest dreams had he suspected he’d cuddle with the enemy or that he’d feel happy about the experience. Already, he imagined his brothers voicing their opinions, telling him he was letting himself in for a shitload of trouble. Hell, he knew it, and yet she tempted him to march across enemy lines anyway.

  “Why is it so important to you to get a job on your own, a flat? Your parents give you anything you want.”

  “I know,” she said. “I’m lucky to live such a privileged life. But I want to do things on my own, make my own way. Hell, it’d even be fun to make mistakes. From the outside, living in the world of wealth is easy, but it’s a prison. My life has a set of rules, expectations, and if I don’t do what my parents or older siblings say, they withhold privileges. Achievements don’t mean a thing if a person doesn’t have to struggle for a goal.”

  “But you’re twenty-three. I was living on my own in Melbourne at that age.”

  “Ah, you forget. I’m the baby of the family. There’s a big gap between me and Aaron. I’ve had to fight for every piece of freedom.”

  “I’m not going to come between you and your parents. I won’t fight wars for you.”

  “Heck,” she said in disgust, fighting to straighten.

  He released her, and she turned on her scowl. Full force with nothing held back.

  “Not you too. You’re not listening. I want to fight my own battles, live my own life, and if I make mistakes, that’s my problem. I’ll cope with the consequences. I’m not a stupid blonde bimbo. I have a brain. I’m capable and determined. I intend to live my life and live it well.”

  Her breasts heaved with the force of her conviction, and his interest in her deepened. Deep, still waters and all that crap. “And my desire to boss you around doesn’t worry you?”

  “I signed your agreement. I want to bump against your ugly naked parts, hopefully for the entire month. But what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom. You don’t get to boss me around the rest of the time.”

  Fair enough. Things that happened in the privacy of a bedroom didn’t need to continue outside the home. But an urge to tug her tail in the same way she’d tweaked him from the moment he’d offered his aid grabbed, twisted, provoked. “What would you say if I expected submission outside the bedroom?”

  “You’d have to earn the right,” she said, her tone fierce. “You’d need to prove to me that deep down it was something I wanted. Hell, I’ve read Fifty Shades. Most people have, but I know myself well enough to say a controlling man in my life wouldn’t work. Too many years of fighting to exert my independence.”

  And yet she hadn’t put up much of a fight when it came to their agreement. Interesting. “I’m going to explore you, touch your face and body. I want you to stand in front of me and let me grope you.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes.”

  She drank the last of her toddy and handed her empty glass to him. “All right, but if you intend to check my teeth, you should watch your fingers. I’m not broken, and I might bite.”

  There was a long pause—startled on his part, his smile of delight struggling for freedom. He wanted to test her… His grin slipped his grasp and spread across his lips, tugging his facial muscles and reverberating to his cock. “I’ll keep your warning in mind. Are you warm enough?”

  “Yes.”

  “Warm enough to take off your sweats?”

  She shivered, her pupils dilating. She stared at him, yet he didn’t glimpse a shred of doubt. “I’m warm enough.”

  “All right then.”

  She stood and started to tug up her sweat top.

  “No. Let me do it.” His breath caught while he waited for her assent. She was a surprise gift, one he couldn’t wait to unwrap.

  After scanning his expression, she gave a swift nod.

  Unable to resist, he leaned down and kissed her—a gentle kiss with no hint of sexual undercurrent. Her lips were petal-soft, and her entire body trembled at the contact. He drew back to brush the pad of his thumb over her mouth. He caressed her cheeks, pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. Gradually, tension faded from her shoulders. Her breathing slowed, and she didn’t flinch at each new touch. Her eyes fluttered closed, and he, too, relaxed.

  No matter that his family would feel as horrified as hers. This—being with Laura—felt right on so many levels.

  “Lift your arms for me.”

  She obeyed instantly, her features relaxed. He whisked the fleecy top over her head and tossed it aside.

  She wore a figure-hugging shirt beneath. It clung to her breasts—large breasts—and showed an hourglass figure. She was sturdy, yet only an ungenerous person would claim she was fat. Instinct told him her mother, her sisters, might have committed the sin, yet Laura hadn’t flinched at his scrutiny.

  “What’s your verdict?”

  Her soft question confirmed his thoughts.

  “You have the body of a Hollywood glamour girl. I can see you in a tight red dress, your hair in a fancy up-do and your lips painted crimson. High heels.”

  “My mother thinks I should diet.”

  “What do you think?” His brain screamed to proceed with caution. Some women were weird when it came to talk of food and diets and body shape. He steered a clear course away from women focused on lettuce leaves.

  “I think I’m a healthy weight for my build and height. I exercise and eat properly. The specialist told my mother the same thing,” she said with a trace of smugness.

  He barked out a laugh, and repeated it when he realized the sound would startle his brothers. There hadn’t been much to laugh about during the last year. “Personally, I think you look perfect.” Eager to see the rest of her, he directed his hands to the waistband of her sweat pants. “I’m going to take these off now.” He suited actions to words, holding his breath to reveal the rest of her body. She wore tiny pink panties, but the lacy confection didn’t conceal much. Unable to help himself, he grasped her hips and leaned closer to catalogue her scent. Flowers and warm spices and all things nice. A slight muskiness. He’d expected a perfume with a more sophisticated note, a designer fragrance.

  “The verdict?” A note of anxiety had crept into her voice.

  “Very nice. Shall we move to my bedroom?”

  She nodded. “Let’s jump to the hot sex and burn off my nerves. I’m excited but anxious too.” She bit her bottom lip, tugged on it with her teeth as if she was afraid she’d revealed too much.

  The honesty in her warmed him through. Maria had never… His brothers had told him she was cheating on him, but he hadn’t believed them. Laura didn’t seem deceitful or hold secrets close to her ample chest. He huffed out a sound that wasn’t far from another laugh. Instead, she blurted thoughts without mental censorship.

  “Are you going to say something?”

  “I think that’s a good idea. Dinner can wait.”

  “Wait! What if the power goes out?”

  Still some lurking anxiety, he mused. “Sensible wee thing, aren’t you?”

  “Someone needs to observe the practicalities.” This time her words held a defensive note.

  “That wasn’t a criticism, sweetheart. I have a generator, and I’ll stok
e the fire before we head for the bedroom.”

  She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Go and climb into my bed to keep warm. It’s the room before the spare one. The light switch is inside the door, to the left.”

  She turned away.

  “Laura.”

  “Yes?”

  “When you get to the bedroom, take off the rest of your clothes. I want you to ready yourself so I can slide right inside your heat without too many preliminaries. I find my control is teetering.” To his bemusement, it was true. Maria had called him cold, a machine, but he didn’t believe the words any longer. He burned for Laura. They both needed a first, wild time to settle teetering nerves.

  “Ready myself?”

  “Masturbate.” The quick surge of pink to her cheeks charmed him. “Can you do that?”

  Her chin lifted, and she met his gaze without fear. “I can do that.”

  “But don’t get yourself off. We’ll do that bit together. I sleep on the right side of the bed.”

  Laura’s heart thudded against the wall of her chest like a panicked sparrow trying to escape an enclosed space. Ready herself for him. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t masturbated before, but it was a secret thing, something she did for herself and herself alone.

  Somehow, she managed to stumble to Dallas’s bedroom, her minding spinning with thoughts of Dallas, the things they’d do together.

  Hot sex. Nasty sex. Bossy sex.

  He intended to order her around when she fought so hard for her freedom every day. If she refused, she might lose her chance to enjoy the focus of that Dallas O’Grady charm.

  A low-level hum still simmered in her abdomen, but the pinball game of pinging nerves ceased.

  She flicked on the light and studied the queen-size bed, its autumn-colored quilt, the dark furniture and the large windows. Aware of a ticking clock, she drew the curtains, closing out the night. She turned on a bedside lamp and switched off the main light, liking the subdued, more intimate shadows better.

  Then, she sucked in a huge breath and stripped off her panties and top. The bed was cold as she slid between the sheets, yet she could practically hear the sizzle of her skin, her excitement heating her through.

  It wouldn’t take much to get herself off. She and Dallas had flirted from the moment they’d met this afternoon. Heck, she plain liked him. Sex on a stick, and she wanted to lick every inch of him—if that was what bossy Dallas requested.

  Lazily, she stroked one full breast, tugged on her nipple and gasped at the bungee of pleasure that stormed her pussy. She traced slow circles around her navel, and again surges of pleasure spread outward, darting lower to frisk her clit.

  “Does that feel good?”

  Her eyes shot open, her tiny eep of shock scarcely more than a rush of breath. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Dallas,” he reminded her.

  “I know your name.”

  “Reality check. Just wanted to emphasize you’re in the enemy’s bed. You didn’t answer my question, sweetheart.”

  “I’m right where I want to be,” Laura said, giving her words a crisp bite. For long seconds, she stared at him—a visual challenge. Eventually, he nodded and tension dispersed from her shoulders. “And I’m feeling pretty happy. Each time I touch myself, the sensations ricochet through me.”

  “To where?”

  “To my pussy.” She heard the primness in her voice even as she catalogued his sexy grin.

  “Watch me undress.”

  “My pleasure.” Her response came automatically. The right one because satisfaction settled on his features.

  She sat up in the bed, letting the covers pool to her lap. The flare of interest in his eyes as his gaze hit her breasts was a warm balm, gratifying and enjoyable.

  His movements were economical. Graceful and sexy. The cable sweater went first. He folded it and placed the garment on top of a wooden chest. The loss of his shirt revealed a muscular chest with a light sprinkling of hair. Nice. It arrowed downward and disappeared into his jeans.

  Dallas unfastened his belt, focusing her attention on his groin.

  “Laura, look at me. Hold my gaze.” His voice was low, raspy, gentle even, but it was an order.

  Her gaze skimmed his belly, upward across his pectoral muscles to finally reach his face. It was hard to hold his gaze when he seemed to see deep inside her…places she’d prefer to keep on the hush-hush. The idea he might ferret out her secret fears and hopes scared her, made her want to lower her lids for privacy. But there was also an urge to please him, to follow his request to discover where it might lead.

  It was such a small thing.

  All she had to do was look at him, drink in his sexiness and let the heat of him, his innate sensuality slide through her veins. She swallowed, finding obeying without question more difficult than she’d hoped.

  The rest of his clothing rustled as he removed each item, one at a time. Expectation unfolded, her senses stretching in search of information. Her heartbeat hammered in her ears, her breasts prickling with a combination of the chill and acute anticipation.

  If this was a lesson, she was learning it well.

  Delayed gratification magnified the prize waiting at the end. It made every one of her senses crackle. She shivered when he rounded the bed. Still she maintained his gaze, unable to shear it because he’d caught her—a Drummond fish in an O’Grady net.

  “Good girl,” he whispered. “Now I want you to close your eyes and wait for me.”

  A shiver worked through her, heated and pulsed in her sex. Her muscles craved movement, yet she didn’t wriggle. Instead, she followed his instructions, waited.

  A drawer opened, shut. Her pulse sped, picking up in pace while different scenarios chased through her mind. He could leave her hanging or take photos and spread them across the ’net. He might choose an axe or the perfect knife to slit her throat—

  Good grief. That one was a bit out there. He’d spoken to the local cop. The policeman had seen them together. No, Dallas didn’t intend to murder her in his own bed.

  “Um, how are you with blood?” she asked.

  “Not bad. Why?” His raspy voice sounded right next to her ear.

  She flinched, her gasp loud, shocked. While she was inventing murderous scenarios, he’d walked around the bed and climbed in with her. She hadn’t heard a thing.

  “Um, I was wondering if you intended to do away with me. Then I thought about the cop we spoke with earlier, so I figured murder wasn’t on the cards.”

  “Did you have nightmares as a kid?”

  Luckily he didn’t sound angry. Instead, amusement came through loud and clear.

  “My mother thinks imagination is unbecoming to a lady.”

  “For my purposes, using your sexy mind is a good thing. It means I can play you and drive you to distraction before I allow you pleasure.”

  “For the record, I’m not good with blood. I considered nursing but a cut on my brother’s leg shot down that aspiration. I took one horrified look at all the red stuff, fainted and hit my head. I still have a scar on my scalp.”

  “Do you chatter when you’re nervous?”

  “It appears so,” she said.

  “You have nothing to fear from me.”

  The confidence in his voice went a long way to quashing her runaway fears. The talking helped too. She always surrounded herself with noise, even when she was alone she had the television on or music playing. “Okay. That’s good.”

  “This first time I’m going to tell you everything I intend to do before I do it.”

  She nodded, and when he didn’t speak, she said, “Okay.”

  “Good girl.” A rustling sounded, and she cocked her head to hear better. “I want you to lie with your back flat on the mattress and your legs parted. Are you feeling cold?”r />
  “No.” Laura squirmed down and positioned her body as he’d directed. The cool air washed against her heated pussy, the contrast not unpleasant.

  “I have a tub of special cream. Once the cream heats, it will stimulate your nerve endings. I’m going to kiss you and then we’ll get to the good stuff.”

  “Goodie.” She peeked, blinked a couple of times, searching his face. This wasn’t a face intent on murder or anything except pleasure. Her gaze darted the length of his body and what she saw reassured her. His cock was full and aroused, the ruddy cap shiny with pre-come.

  “Look at me, Laura.”

  Oops, he’d caught her. Her gaze went to his face, and his mouth quirked at the corners.

  “I’m not fond of blood either.”

  “Good to know.”

  Before she could say more, his mouth covered hers. The kiss started slow, a gentle mating of lips, little by little gaining momentum until his tongue was sliding into her mouth, stroking hers and shoving her deep into temptation. All she could do was hold on and ride the wild sensations. She’d been kissed before, but this was more. Better. It was decadent chocolate. It was sin laced with Dallas and very, very addictive.

  When he lifted his head, her body cried for more—more touches, more of him. Talk about skill. Sadly, the physical contact didn’t seem to rock him with the same fierce detonations. She wanted to dwell on the fact, consider what it meant, but he raced ahead, producing his tub of special cream.

  When he removed the lid, the scent of carnations filled the air. He dipped in his finger and took a small amount.

  “Ready?”

  “You’re asking me?”

  “I can see you’re going to be a challenge.”

  A zip of sensation sizzled along her veins. “Isn’t it your job to make sure I do what you tell me?” Holy Hannah. Had she said that?

  He stilled, his finger hovering above her nipple. “You have to want me to take charge.”

  “Why?” Something in his hard stare told her if she didn’t want that then she was wasting their time. She considered the endless days that were her life. The constant struggle for independence. The truth was she was tired of fighting. It would be so nice to trust someone once in a while and just…just drift.