ENEMIES

by Tijan

  I broke. I lost the battle and voiced my pleasure. “Ah!”

  A guttural gasp came from me, and my knees shook. My arms gave out. I fell to the bed, but he came with me. A hand on the headboard above me, he began pistoning inside of me, as this round was all about him.

  He wasn’t giving it to me for me anymore. This was all him. Animals. Both of us.

  He came with a roar the same time I did, and he fell down on me. Both of our bodies were shuddering.

  I needed a breather, and judging by his panting, he did, too. Still. He lay over me, a hand skimming down my back, curving over my ass. But then he growled, and he was pushing my shirt off me. Yes. That was a splendid idea.

  He slipped out and lifted up. I rolled to my back, pulling my shirt up and off me. My bra was next, and I didn’t have to say anything. His shirt was off and he came back down. Nope. He changed his mind. Getting up, padding barefoot to his bathroom, and then he was pissing.

  The toilet was flushed.

  The water ran again. He was washing his hands. And he came back, no shame.

  There was none with me, either, not this day, this moment.

  His eyes found mine, and he stood over the bed, just studying me as I returned the favor. His eyes almost caressed my body, running over me. Those shoulders. So sculpted and cut. His chest. His stomach. His hips. The V that ran down his stomach and past his groin, it was begging me to touch.

  So I did.

  Sitting up, I scooted to the edge of the bed, trailing my hand down his muscle.

  He moved into me and I glanced up. His eyes were hooded, darkening the more I touched him. He was enjoying this, and knowing what he really wanted, I found him again. My hand circled around him, a good, firm grip, and then I began to stroke him.

  He groaned.

  I kept stroking.

  Another groan, those eyes were almost messy from his pleasure.

  I loved it.

  And I loved not feeling what I’d been feeling before. Those emotions were pushed aside, and stomped down. They were so far down, I knew I had tonight to bask and take refuge in this momentary shelter, and because I just wanted more of him, I bent down and took him in my mouth.

  “Shit,” a silent hiss from him. His hands grasped the side of my head, his fingers tangling with my hair.

  I took him in deep, sucking on him.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  I kept sucking on him until he began to move in my mouth.

  No. This wasn’t enough. The angle needed to be better. I withdrew, got up, and shoved him down. Then I was kneeling between his knees, and my mouth was back on him. I didn’t look at him to see what he was thinking. I didn’t care, but I knew his body was loving my mouth on him.

  I opened my throat even wider as he began moving in my mouth, and rising for the best angle, he held my head still as he thrust inside, and our eyes met, held while he continued what he was doing. A full body shiver wracked through me, and I swear it made him come, because he exploded then.

  I paused, catching his semen.

  He pulled out and shook his head. “Don’t swallow that.”

  Yeah. Fine with me. I was the one padding to his bathroom now. I spat it out, then washed my mouth out, and I stared at myself for a second.

  My hair was a mess. My eyes were red-rimmed from the earlier sobbing.

  I hadn’t worn makeup in days, so my face was just splotchy from the sex and the shit-show before that, but I took note of the rest of my body. I’d gotten thinner since coming here. I hadn’t thought that was possible, but I knew I’d lost weight from what had happened before, but no. What was I thinking—my dad, Gail—a sob slipped out before I knew what I was feeling.

  But he was there, his hand on my side.

  I looked up, almost panicked. I thought I had a night before those feelings would come back. But I started thinking, and that was all I needed. They were unleashed, swimming to the surface at a surprising speed. As if knowing what was going on inside of me, Stone’s eyes darkened, holding mine in the mirror.

  He stepped up behind me, a firm hand running down my back. He fitted himself there so I felt every inch of him, and his mouth lowered to my shoulder. His eyes were still holding mine captive and I watched, a prisoner, but wanting to surrender to him, needing him to take over, and I was transfixed as his teeth scraped over my skin again.

  I gasped, arching my back. A searing spliced through me, almost making me jerk upright in his arms until his hand slid around to my front. His palm was heavy on my stomach. His fingers spread out, and those eyes still watching me watch him, he moved his hand up, up, up, and it encircled one of my breasts.

  Then he nipped at my shoulder again, moving to my neck. He ran his teeth over me, lingering where my artery was, but he only swirled his tongue there, and I moaned this time.

  I gave in. He won this round.

  His eyes flared. Victory surged in him.

  He was plastered to me, so I knew he was hard again, but he was bare. He paused, his eyes on mine. “The condoms are all the way in the room. Are you—?”

  I shook my head. No. I didn’t tell him that I hadn’t needed to use birth control for the last year. I hadn’t had a period, but he only nodded and he stepped away.

  I held myself where he left me, exactly, and I even placed both hands against the mirror in anticipation.

  I wanted to watch us. That’s what he wanted too, then he was back. He was rolling the condom on, and he saw I was still in the same position. His mouth tugged up in approval, but he stepped up behind me, and there was no warning this time.

  He was in, pushing, thrusting, and I was pushing back from the mirror just as hard.

  He rode me. I rode him.

  It was exactly what I asked from him, and through the rest of the night, he gave it to me. Over and over again. There was a break where his phone wouldn’t stop ringing, so after we’d finished that round, he stepped out from the room to take the call.

  I lay there, eyes open, staring at the ceiling, and I didn’t move an inch. I was naked. I hadn’t pulled the sheet over me, and he returned sometime later. I made sure I wasn’t thinking when he left, so I didn’t know how long he’d been. Could’ve been seconds, minutes, or a full hour. I had no clue and I wanted it that way.

  Then he was back, falling on top of me, again, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him, knowing he’d make me feel other sensations in a moment. And, as he slid inside me once more, he did just that.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Something dropped to the floor with a thud, and I rolled over.

  I was disoriented a moment. Where was I? Then the memories came flooding in. I was being blasted by erotic images of me and Stone, and then I looked over. What time was it? I’d fallen asleep in his bed and looked for a clock. It was around eight in the morning.

  “Wha—”

  “Sorry.” He came over, sat on the edge of the bed and knelt back over. He was putting shoes on.

  I couldn’t make sense of anything. “What’s going on?”

  I sat up, and looked down. Stone had grabbed one of my bags of clothes and brought it in for me. I pulled on a tank top and underwear. Still. No shame here. We’d violated each other a thousand different ways last night. I didn’t move to cover myself, just stared at him, a little dumbfounded.

  He finished tying his shoes and got up. Pulling on a hoodie, he grabbed for his wallet and keys. “Okay. I’m off. I have to head in and I’ll be gone most the day. You’ll be okay?”

  He paused, glancing to me.

  He added, “I’m not talking about your concussion, because you shouldn’t do shit today. Got that? Keep television to a minimum. No reading. Don’t exert your brain. Just don’t. Trust me.”

  Great. That left me alone with only thoughts. Not a good picture there.

  But, I manned up. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not shitting around. Will you or won’t you? I can arrange for that one friend of yours to come and hang out if you need e
asy company?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay. You remember the code, right? If you need to leave for any reason, but seriously. Don’t. I mean it.”

  “I know!” I glared. “And I remember.”

  He stared at me. I stared up.

  All the screwing was done. We were back to our normal, almost-loathing dynamic, though I felt myself wanting to say something to push his buttons, make him hate me. You’re comfortable in what you know.

  He sighed, running a hand down his face. “You’re freaking out?”

  “No.” Fuck. Shit. I sat up, and holy hell, my entire body ached. It was worse than after the coma even. I balked when I scooted to the edge of the bed and stood. “I’ll be fine. We fucked. That’s it. You helped me out. Thank you for that.” I motioned toward his door. “Go and live your big life. I will be fine.”

  He didn’t move, but some of the impatience melted away. The lines around his mouth softened.

  What a fucked-up pair we were. I snapped at him and it settled him.

  “Go, Stone. I will be fine.”

  He nodded. “Don’t talk to your stepbrother today. If he calls, wait till I’m here. Okay?”

  I nodded before he left the room.

  I was slower following, going to my section of the house.

  I didn’t know why he made that suggestion, but whatever. I was so far from thinking about that right now. My stepsister guilt had been dispensed. Jared was with an entire family who wanted him. I’d been fucked by a superstar who was helping me out of guilt. Okay. He said he cared, but I wasn’t looking at him with rosy glasses.

  This wasn’t a romance waiting in the wings.

  Maybe more sex. Hot sex. Primal sex. Yeah. Maybe that shit, but nothing else, and remembering all of this, I had two weeks to deal. Two weeks to let my body heal. To let my heart deal with the mourning much as I could handle it, and then I had to make a plan because fuck, I was going to need a job when Stone would send me packing.

  I heard the garage opening, the gate opening a second later, but then I was in my room and I almost collapsed on my own bed.

  No, no, no. I couldn’t do that. I’d think, that led to feeling, that led to wanting the world to swallow me up. Moving. I had to keep moving or doing something. But I was hurting. Nope. Sitting still was worse than the physical pain.

  So, what, then? I’d never been into drugs or alcohol, not more than a social wine or something. Cleaning, that’s it. I could clean. But no. Stone’s house looked impeccable. He must’ve had a cleaning lady come in on the regular, I was sure of that.

  Back to square one.

  I washed up, changed my clothes, and by then the bed was beckoning to me again. Phone. I had to find my phone, at least have it by me. Going in search, it took me back to Stone’s room. There was a pile of my stuff on his floor, and kneeling down, I scooped it all up and went back to my space. I could snoop, take in what his room looked like, but not at that moment. I didn’t have the energy for that.

  A yawn left me.

  We’d barely slept, so hopefully day one could be passed just by sleeping. Some of the panic subsided, and when I got to my room, I was yawning again. It was the kind that made you tear up, and I dropped my stuff on a chair, digging through it until I found my phone.

  Plugging that in, I didn’t check the screen.

  Day one of actually dealing with my concussion was about to commence. Doing nothing, here I go. I got back in bed, pulled the covers up, and rolled over.

  I slept day one away, meandering out to the kitchen sometime that afternoon, and that’s when boredom hit me. Not normal boredom. This was the kind of boredom that was verging on panic because I needed something to do or I was going to lose it.

  I already had lost it the night before and a marathon of sex had been the result.

  An idea took hold standing in the kitchen. Stone liked when my mom baked for us. So, going into his kitchen, that’s what I was going to do. It started first with spying a pile of cookbooks in the pantry. I’d been in there looking for water, only realizing later the water would probably be in the fridge, but maybe it was fate. Within an hour, I was sitting in the middle of a stack of fourteen cookbooks.

  I couldn’t believe Stone had these, and I really couldn’t believe he had them stashed away in a corner. Why not use them if you were going to have them? Then I stilled, opening one. First page.

  To Stone, I know how much you liked that birthday cake I made for your seventh birthday. Here’s the recipe for it. Page 147. — Sherry

  I looked at the next.

  Another note.

  Stone, those cookies you devoured with Dusty for Halloween that one year you were in fourth and she was in third, the recipe is on page 67. — Sherry

  And a third.

  Stone, I’m breaking tradition here. I know you liked my baked goods, but I couldn’t resist. Remember the sloppy joes that you raved about? I made them for Dusty’s tenth birthday. The recipe is on page 183. — Sherry

  I looked through a fourth, a fifth.

  Sixth.

  Seventh.

  My heart was pounding, then dropping, until I got to the last cookbook. Every single one of them. All from my mother. Each with a note written from — Sherry.

  Why?

  Why did she do this?

  But the note on the last one had me doing a double-take.

  Stone,

  I know you’re off to do great things in your future. I know you feel badly about slighting my daughter. I’ve come to enjoy our Saturday morning grocery trips, but this is going to be my last note to you. I’m dying and you’re officially the first to know, though you won’t get this book till after I’m gone.

  I have loved you as my own son, and I know Dusty still cares about you. I have a wish for you. If you are ever in a situation where my daughter needs help, please be there for her. She’s the silent trooper. She suffers in silence and she doesn’t think I can tell. I do. And I know life has ups and downs, and you both will have challenges. Please reach out. Please care for each other. Please don’t let this thing between your mother and my husband keep you away.

  Life is short. Live. Forgive.

  I will be watching over both you and Dusty.

  — All the love, Sherry

  All the love.

  All. The. Love.

  I read those words over and over and over and over. I lost track how many times I read them.

  I knew she cared for Stone. I knew there’d been a special relationship, but this was more. This was so much more than I thought it was, and it cut me. It cut me deep.

  He hadn’t even lied to me. I was replaying when I asked him why he was helping me, and he said it. Point-blank. Because of my mom, because he cared for her. Here was the proof. She cared for him back. And my dad and his mom?

  What the hell? Again.

  What. The. Hell?

  Thoughts were flashing in my mind. Bad thoughts. Miserable thoughts.

  Like, why’d she have to go?

  Why’d he have to go?

  Why’d they have to drive on that road? At that time of night? Why’d the deer have to choose to cross the road at that exact second?

  Was it me?

  Was I cursed?

  Did everyone I love have to be taken from me?

  My insides were twisting all in a knot, then being knotted again, and again. Bent over, my forehead to the ground, I rocked in a fetal position. Every one of those questions plaguing me, laughing at me, being screamed in my head, taunting me.

  It was me.

  I was the problem.

  I was the connection.

  They loved me, and they all died.

  I had to go.

  Standing.

  I put the cookbooks back where they were, and I had one thought. Leave. I had to leave. I wasn’t a pity project. I felt Stone’s loathing last night. I knew it was still in him, and now it was back and raging inside of me. It hadn’t quite left me.


  Fuck him.

  I was done.

  I could do this. Fuck everything.

  Numb. I’d go numb. And I’d keep going. That’s what I’d do, and one day, I had to hope—one day it would be better. I would be so used to the pain that I’d almost think it wasn’t there. That day was my goal to get to.

  I went and packed.

  I had a goal in mind. I had motivation. It helped, knowing you had to do something in order to survive. Your focus suddenly became crystal clear. I didn’t have a ton of stuff here, but my books were the heaviest. I left half my clothes behind. They didn’t fit in my bag.

  Leaving, I put the code in and hauled ass. I wasn’t sure what would set the system off, but I got out of the garage and there was no angry alarm going off, so that was one feat accomplished. The gate was next. I had no clue how to open it, so I tossed my bag up and over, then I climbed. I went slow, but I got there.

  Once over, I pulled my phone and ordered an Uber.

  The Uber pulled up.

  I got in and I just wanted to get as far away as possible.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The voices woke me.

  My fan wasn’t on, and while they weren’t yelling or raised, I could still hear them.

  Maybe it was because my body had been waiting, or maybe I was more rested because of the concussion. Either way, when I woke, I rolled over. It was around eleven that night, so maybe the group was back from partying or Stone was here. I was prepared for both.

  Grabbing my phone, I checked it first. It was blank.

  I paused, frowning. I hadn’t expected that, but I still sat up and raked a hand through my hair. I hadn’t changed clothes when I got back to my room, so I looked down, remembering that I’d blindly grabbed a different shirt and it must’ve been one of his. The King’s emblem was prominent on the front, the whole name for the team was short for the Texas Kingfishers.