ENEMIES(74)

I did. My eyes closed. My head back.

I pumped, back and forth, and once I was going, he tugged my bra off. Just as air touched my nipples, his mouth closed over one, warming me. His tongue swirling around me. He was returning the favor. I groaned, wrapping a hand around his neck, and I started pounding down on his fingers. He slid a third inside, shoving up and up and up.

I was going down and down and down, until the climax ripped through me, hurtling at a breakneck speed, and I screamed. The sensations were pounding me still and I couldn’t… I was coming and coming and coming.

“Fuck yeah.” He grunted, then he was reaching inside his jeans pocket.

A condom came out. He rolled it on, and I shifted, sitting up so he could put it on.

His hands came to my hips. My hands went to his stomach, and together he went up at the same time I sank down on him.

And we started up all over again.





Chapter Thirty-Two





I was fucked.

No. Really. I was fucked.

Waking up in Stone’s arms for the third morning in a row, I felt my heart do a whole flip, shimmy, and settle. It settled. The whole rolling/riding him last night had been an awakening. Or maybe it was just that grief was starting to fall into the grooves and dips in my heart, letting me feel other stuff, stuff that maybe had been building inside and I hadn’t realized it until now. Until I woke up, Stone’s arm over my chest, his leg pressed up behind me, his head tucked into my back, and I felt peaceful.

Peaceful.

That wasn’t good.

Again. I was so fucked.

His arm twitched. His body tensed. He was waking up, and his hand ran up my stomach, finding my naked breast and he cupped me there.

I needed to go over this again because there were more flutters in my stomach than there’d been last night, or like ever.

I might’ve had a crush on Stone growing up, but him being an elitist prick got that out of my system. Or I thought so because damn, what if that crap never left me? What if it’d been in me this whole time and now him being all nice and kind and taking care of me and giving me all these climaxes, what if all those brought up all of that?

“Morning.” He moved into me, his hand left my breast, sliding down, down, going past my waist and dipping between my legs.

I groaned.

Oh, yeah. He was bringing all of that up right now. As his fingers slid inside of me, I gasped. He was stirring those emotions up. They were like mud that had settled. He was dipping in the water and dirtying everything up.

Then, a second finger slid in, I rolled to my back, and I was gone. Whatever storm he was waking up in me, it was going to happen. Till then, I reached for him as he moved over me and his mouth found mine.





I waited till after I’d made breakfast for both of us, after we’d each had a coffee.

“This can’t be a regular thing.”

I was so stupid. I was already missing his dick.

He looked up from the counter. His plate was empty. He had a second cup of coffee in front of him, along with a glass of green juice and his phone. His eyes narrowed at me. “Come again?”

He smirked.

Yeah. I deserved that, but I was staying firm. “You and me. What we’re doing up there, we both agreed no relationship.”

“We both agreed not to fuck someone else if we’re fucking each other. I like fucking you. Why stop that?”

“Because.”

Stellar defense here, Dusty. Freaking stellar.

He cocked an eyebrow up, picking up his coffee. “Because?”

“Because I’m a girl. We feel things eventually.” I dipped my head. “And I’m getting better.”

A conflicted emotion passed over his face, tightening the lines around his mouth before smoothing back out. He put his coffee back down. “Better how?”

“I’m dealing. I’m not having meltdowns.”

“You had one four days ago.”

“And that’s my point. I’m better, because of you.”

His eyes narrowed again, and he cocked his head sideways. “Why change that? Because you’re worried you might start feeling something?” He shrugged, grabbing his coffee once more. “Let’s end this when that happens.”

“It’s happening.” His eyes lifted back to mine. I added, “Last night. This morning.” I turned away, feeling like I was exposing more of myself to him. “It’s happening.”

I waited.

It didn’t matter. Whatever he said, how long he took to say anything, that didn’t matter. That’s what I was telling myself.

A second passed.

Five seconds.

I stopped counting after fifteen seconds.

I was holding my breath.

A chair scraped against the floor.

Looking, he was walking away. His coffee, his green juice, was left behind.

Well.

That was a nice punch to my face. It shouldn’t have been. This was why I said something. He was being smart. I was being smart.

Still. It hurt. It couldn’t hurt worse than that, right?

He came back into the room, not looking at me, but turned halfway to me. His head was down. He was holding his phone, and he asked, “You need a ride back and forth from campus?”

See. My chest squeezed. He was making sure I was okay even after he was kicking me out.