Facing the Enemy
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Copyright 2018 Monica Clayton
Published by M.E. Clayton
All Rights Reserved
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. The entire content is a product of the author’s imagination and all names, places, businesses and incidences are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), places or occurrences, is entirely coincidental
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the express written consent from the author, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Formatting: Smashwords
Cover: Adobe Stock
Warning: This book contains sexual situations and other adult themes. Recommended for 18 years of age and over.
Table of Contents
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Author's Note
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Prologue
1. Ramsey
2. Emerson
3. Ramsey
4. Emerson
5. Ramsey
6. Emerson
7. Ramsey
8. Emerson
9. Ramsey
10. Emerson
11. Ramsey
12. Emerson
13. Ramsey
14. Emerson
15. Ramsey
16. Emerson
17. Ramsey
18. Emerson
19. Ramsey
20. Emerson
21. Ramsey
22. Emerson
23. Ramsey
24. Emerson
25. Ramsey
26. Emerson
27. Ramsey
28. Emerson
29. Ramsey
30. Emerson
31. Ramsey
32. Emerson
33. Ramsey
34. Emerson
35. Ramsey
36. Emerson
37. Ramsey
Epilogue
Playlist
About the Author
Other Books
Contact Me
Newsletter Sign-up!
Author’s Note
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Facing the Enemy had originally been intended to be a standalone work. I had no intentions of turning this book into a series. But so many people fell in love with Ramsey and Emerson, I got tons of requests for Roselyn’s, Liam’s, and Deke’s stories, and so the Enemy Series was born. Now, because Facing the Enemy was supposed to be a solo work, it was a challenge to match its intensity for the other three books, but I did my best, folks. I so promise I did my best.
I had also never planned on a fourth character, but upon writing Deke’s story, I fell in love with Ava, and how complicated she was, so Provoking the Enemy came to life. I also added a short closer as proof that everyone did live happily ever after.
I know half of you will enjoy that everyone got a happily-ever-after, while the other half will be disappointed that Roselyn didn’t spend the rest of her days being worshipped by Liam and Deke, but, at heart, I’m a one-woman-man type of personality, so I felt compelled to make sure everyone ended up with a love of their life.
Nonetheless, I hope you guys enjoy the series, and thank you, once again, to everyone who loved the book so much, you pushed for the additional stories.
And just a couple of things before I let you go and get your read on. While I am doing my best to work with better editing and proofreading software, all my books are solo, independent works. I write my books, proofread my books, edit my books, create the covers, etc. I have one beta who gives me feedback on my stories, but other than that, all my books are independent projects.
That being said, I apologize, in advance, for the typos, grammar inconsistencies, or any other mistakes I may make. Since writing is strictly a hobby for me, I haven’t looked for commitments in regard to publishers, editors, etc. My hope is that my stories are enjoyable enough that a few mistakes, here and there, can be overlooked. If not, my books are probably not for you.
Thank you, all, for turning this hobby into something exciting and magical!
Acknowledgements
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First, foremost, and always, I want to thank my family for their support. Nothing I accomplish is a success without their love. They don’t care what I write, they’re just so damn happy I’m following a dream.
Second, I want to thank Kamala for not laughing at me when I told her I wanted to write a book. Also, for being my guinea pig, for reading everything I write, and for her honest, and much appreciated, feedback. Save for my family, Kam’s my most enthusiastic cheerleader!
And, of course, I want to thank everyone who took a chance on me when they bought this book! I understand the risk when you spend your money on a new name. Thank you, so much, for being a part of my experience. And, please note, that this is a completely independent project and any typos, errors or silliness falls solely on my shoulders.
Dedication
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For my sister –
You are way stronger than you give yourself credit for. But I think the most amazing thing about you is how you can experience a broken heart but still have the courage to love again with no reservation, whatsoever.
You’re amazing, P’Terry!
Prologue
I looked out over the railing on the second floor and took in the scene before me.
Music filled the house, making the windows rattle and the drinks dance in their cups or glasses. But the loud bass of the latest hip hop song did nothing to drown out the murmurs of conversation and the peals of drunken laughter. There were teenage and barely-legal bodies everywhere, drinking, dancing, and snorting up their best party favors.
School starts on Monday and this is the first party of the year. It’s a kick-off party to begin senior year at Windsor Academy, a secluded prep school that caters to the rich, privileged, and entitled.
The very rich, very privileged and very entitled.
Most of the senior class is already 18-years-old, but that’s because Windsor Academy is so elite, every student has to take a year off before entering high school to study abroad.
Every student destined to attend Windsor was part of an assembly line of little robots, expected to take over the family businesses, and we each had to pick a country that would help our family’s legacy grow, and that’s where you went for your one year. I spent my year abroad in Italy.
For a lot of different reasons.
But even though the party was occupied by mostly 18-year-olds, that had no bearing on the alcohol and drugs scattered throughout the house. Age meant nothing when you had money and power.
And we, all, had both. But me? I had the most.
My dark eyes scanned the living room and what I could make of the kitchen, and all I could think about was how old this scene was becoming.
None of us had a governor. We had addresses, but no homes. Our parents were absent, and the money was never ending. This meant we could do whatever the fuck we wanted.
And we often did.
But as I looked over the rooms and the people, I realized there was no challenge in any of it anymore. The girls in the house were half naked, naked, blowing someone or getting fucked somewhere-privac
y be damned. Many people with money believed that that same money shielded you from judgment, but it didn’t.
A slut was a slut no matter what brand name shoes covered her feet.
I looked deeper into the living room and I noticed my two best friends, Deke Marlow and Liam McCellan, huddle up with a couple of matching blondes. As I looked my fill, I had to admit they were hot and built like they were ready to party.
And my dick didn’t twitch one bit.
I hadn’t fucked a girl in months. Hell, if I’m being honest, I haven’t been between a hot set of thighs since summer before my junior year.
I was bored.
I’ve been fucking bored.
I was seriously contemplating just going back to my assigned room and ignoring the overflow of naked girls, drunken guys, and fuck music but the fresh arrival of girls walking through the front door drew my attention and fuck me…
She stood out, and not just amongst the girls. She fucking stood out amongst every single person in the place.
She stood out because she didn’t belong here.
She didn’t belong here with us.
She. Did. Not. Belong.
I, immediately, knew who she was. Bailey hadn’t been discreet or embarrassed to tell everyone she knew all about the girl’s business prior to her even starting her first day as a senior with us.
Emerson Andrews.
I stared down at the foursome of females, and the other three didn’t even register. Emerson Andrews might appear as if she’s being shy and playing coy, but if the rumors were true, that girl was anything but shy or coy.
She was a beautiful wolf ready to bare her fangs among the sheep, and if her demeanor was anything to go by, she knew she didn’t belong, and she didn’t give a fuck.
My heart beat faster and my dick started to rise. My mind started to focus, and my body coiled. Ready to strike.
Emerson Andrews was a gorgeous mystery.
She was something new.
She was not boring.
And, while she may appear confident, that confidence would not last for long.
Chapter 1
Ramsey~
It took everything I had not to run down the fucking staircase and rush Miss Emerson Andrews.
The pull was that strong and that insane.
But I did it.
I casually strolled through the walkway and down the stairs like I had all the fucking time in the world. I chatted briefly with whoever said hi, and I even took a detour through the kitchen and grabbed a beer. I had to do it to prove I was still in control.
Because I was always in control, even if I did set the beer right back down without taking a drink.
But when I wasn’t, my rage was ice cold, rather than white hot. My mother said it was because I was a sociopath, but my father said it was because I was born to a sociopath-my mother. Little did he know, they both sucked as parents.
Besides, I knew that my father secretly liked that I was cold-hearted. My lack of feelings fit his agenda perfectly.
But I was feeling right now.
Fuck yeah, I was feeling.
I was feeling all sorts of sick, twisted shit that a psychologist would probably have a field day with. But even with enough self awareness to know that I was sick, it wasn’t enough to stop me from playing with my new prey.
I watched as they made their way into the edges of the living room. The place was packed, so it wouldn’t surprise me if they had to take their group outside to get comfortable. Bailey and her sidekicks, Evelyn and Christa, looked the typical rich, perfectly proportioned teenage dream.
Bailey was on the tall side, with legs that went on for days. Her red hair was dyed to flamed perfection and never turned that awful shade of orange. She had no hips to speak of, but the size of her tits helped a man ignore that flaw. They weren’t real, but ask any teenage boy or grown ass man, for that matter, and they’ll tell you we didn’t give a fuck if they were real or not. Tits were tits. No doubt, Bailey was pretty, with her green eyes and delicate face, but I could point out ten other girls in this room alone that matched her beauty and body.
Evelyn and Christa were no different. They were both blonde, but with Evelyn’s gold locks being kissed with a lot of more paleness. And their bodies were just as perfectly bought as Bailey’s was.
All three were equally stunning, but all three failed by comparison to the short, thick brunette who looked to not have an ounce of fucking makeup on.
I finally crossed though the crowd of people, making my way towards the girls, and Bailey was all ready to pounce before I had even stopped in front of them. “Hey, Ramsey, how’s it going?”
I ignored her question and went straight for the start of the game. I looked over at Emerson and my brown eyes locked onto a pair of wary grey ones. “Who’s this?” I asked Bailey, nodding my head in Emerson’s direction.
Bailey did nothing to disguise the irritation in her voice. I knew it bothered her that Emerson had my attention, but I didn’t care. As pretty as Bailey was, I never swam in her toxic waters and I never would. “This is Emerson. She’s my cousin,” she answered. “She’s the one whose dad killed her mom and had nowhere to go, so my mother had to take her in.”
No one said a word at the cold recap of what had to be an emotional tragedy for Emerson. Bailey confirmed the rumors as if she had been discussing the war in the Middle East; unaffected and unconcerned because it had nothing to do with her.
I had kept my eyes on Emerson the entire time Bailey was talking, and the girl had a hell of a poker face. She didn’t flinch or pale or drop any tears. She held my gaze and looked back at me like she was daring me. Daring me to do what? I didn’t know. But the lift of her chin had my dick harder than fucking steel. Even when I was in the infancy of puberty and could never keep the motherfucker down, I still hadn’t ever felt this hard.
My eyes raked over her person and I didn’t hide my perusal of her body in the least. I took in her waist long brown hair and saw wisps of it ending over her ass. Her brows were a perfectly matching shade of brown and arched to give attitude. Her grey eyes were outlined by lashes I would think were fake if it wasn’t for the fact that I was right; the girl didn’t have a stitch of fucking makeup on.
And she didn’t need it.
Her skin was a flawless porcelain, and the rest of her face was made up of a narrowed button nose, high cheekbones and a pair of plump pink lips that would look like heaven wrapped around my cock with saliva dripping from them.
I almost reached down and shifted my dick in front of her.
My eyes kept traveling down and my mouth salivated at the size of her rack. Emerson was standing at only about 5’2” and so, the curves she was sporting on a body that short, made her look all fucking woman.
I was already standing at 6’2 and my body was proportioned to my height. But even as big as my hands were, her tits would still spill over my fingers as I held them. I could picture my dick sliding through them with ease as her tongue flicked out to flick the head of my cock.
Her waist was drawn in, but I couldn’t tell much about it. While every other girl at the party was wearing the skimpiest outfit they could find and still be legally clothed, Emerson was wearing a plain white t-shirt that hit her mid hip, a pair of black jeans, and a simple pair of white sandals.
This girl hadn’t dressed up for anyone.
As my eyes kept traveling south, I saw that her jean encased hips flared out like she’s given birth already. This female had a pair of hips made to dig your fingers into, and they tapered into a juicy set of thighs and down to the bright blue polish on her toes.
Emerson Andrews had been created to be fucked and to be fucked thoroughly and painfully.
Still not sparing Bailey a glance, I asked, “No. What I mean is what’s she doing here? Who invited her?”
Evelyn and Christa froze, and like the disloyal bitches they were, they let Bailey fend for herself. “I…I didn’t…uhm, I didn’t know it was invite only, Rams
ey.” Then she went for sympathy. “My mom made me bring her. I couldn’t come without her.”
I watched in fascination as Emerson’s head turned towards Bailey. Her voice was void of any emotion, betraying nothing. “Oh, really?” she asked. “Because wasn’t it you pushing me to come to this party? Wasn’t it you who insisted I’d have fun, and I just had to come?”
My arm almost snaked out and snatched her up. Emerson’s voice sounded like it belonged on the other end of a sex telephone hot line. It was raspy, light, and feminine.
And full of balls.
I watched as Bailey stepped to her, no doubt putting on a show for me. “I only said that so you wouldn’t feel like a total loser, Emerson. But my mom made me bring you. Just like she made me go shopping with you and go over your school schedule with you. Do you think I want to hang out with a poor loser whose father is a murderer?”
My eyes darted back to Emerson, and I added to Bailey’s cruelty. “Do you actually think you belong here? That we just pick up random charity cases at will?”
Emerson switch her attention from Bailey to me, and I wanted to throw her down and fuck her in full view of everyone in a show of ownership when she straightened her back and drew herself up to her full height.
Goddamn, she was fucking stunning.
She stared right into my eyes and said, “You’re absolutely right. I don’t belong here.” I watched stunned as she turned to walk out of the house. To walk away from me.
That was all she gave me.
Now, I was used to people backing down from me. Sands Cove boasted of only ten thousand people, all very wealthy and all very powerful. However, my family was the wealthiest and the most powerful. Not to mention the most sinister. So no one ever really dared to challenge me.
Until now.
My father’s rise to the top had been to use money and connections to control people. Once he brought me into the fold at 14 years of age, I went in a different direction.
The Enemy Series Page 1