Page 11 of My Enemy, My Obsession

“Then why now, why with me, tonight?”

“Honestly, I really don’t know. You make me want to. And we’re on a tropical island where seduction seems to sing with the waves.” I laugh and press my free hand to my face. “I’m not as drunk as that cheesy statement sounded. Okay, maybe I am drunk, but it’s liquid courage and—”

He cups my face, the intimacy of touch between us growing comfortable and right, and he leans in and kisses me, a slow slide of his tongue that I feel in every part of me. When his lips part mine, I’m breathless, and my teeth scrape my bottom lip. “If I take you upstairs, Zoey, you need to know that I’m going to fuck you every which way you’ll let me.I’m going to take advantage of you in every possible way. And yes, I’m going to make you say please, more than once.”

I suck in a breath, and my belly clenches. No one has ever talked to me like this man, and all I can say is exactly what he has made it clear he not only wants me to say, but expects me to say. “Please,” I whisper before I can stop myself, my hand pressing to his warm, hard chest as I say, “That’s a statement, not a question, and if I was too drunk to make up my mind, I wouldn’t even remember that fact.”

His eyes burn with amber fire, and his fingers catch my fingers. “Let’s go upstairs.”

I nod, feeling the rush of adrenaline consume my body, and we maneuver away from the table and exit our little hut, where the waiter greets us. Ethan takes the time to compliment his service, but I can feel the same pulse of urgency in him I feel in me. The tension between us has been building for hours now.

When finally we are walking again, I don’t look at him for fear I’ll melt right here in the middle of the restaurant. We say our goodbyes and exit into the main hotel, nerves fluttering like hummingbirds in my belly, singing a song of nerves. I’m all about the songs tonight. The waves. The birds in my belly, which, while sober, would most likely be butterflies. Everything has a different shade and shape when you’re well lubricated, which should warn me that this night will as well, but my body is not hearing it. It wants what it wants, and that means I want what I want.

Which is him.

He releases my hand, but his palm settles on my lower back, which is somehow lower and far more intimate—a branding, a promise of an exploration involving his hands and my body. My hands and his body, because I’m not about to be too shy to miss the chance to enjoy him in every way possible. We’re halfway to the elevators when a tall man, I guess to be mid-thirties in a power suit, steps in front of us. “If it isn’tthe great white shark himself. How you doing, man?” He holds out his hand.

Ethan accepts his grip and greets him in a friendly way. “It’s been a long time, Casey.”

He’s no longer touching me, and I have this sense of him being uncomfortable. This man is from his world. I am not. The two don’t mix.

“What are you doing here?” Ethan asks.

“I’m working on a big investment deal related to the hotel.” The stranger, Casey, glances at me and gives me a once-over. “Who might you be?”

“Zoey,” I say, and the lie leaves my lips way too quickly. “A friend. But let me give you two a moment alone. I’m going to find the ladies’ room.” Before Ethan can stop me, I dart away, and the bathroom is not my destination. But the elevator is. I’m not with him. I don’t belong with him. Casey just saved me from me. I punch the elevator button hard over and over, but nothing happens. I lean against the wall and shut my eyes. “What was I thinking, considering a one-night stand? That’s not like me.”

The elevator dings, and I push off the wall and step inside the open car. It’s over. I’ll never see Ethan again. That is, until Ethan steps into the car and punches the close button.

Chapter Nine

He punches in afloor that is not mine, but rather what looks like a penthouse suite, and then he’s in front of me, his hands warm and possessive on my waist. Somehow, I end up against the wall with his powerful thighs framing mine. His hips pressed to my hips, and I can feel him hard against my belly. And just that easily, I’m melting like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day, right here, in this elevator for a man who doesn’t even know my real name.

“Did you really think I was going to let you run away?” he asks.

My teeth scrape my bottom lip. “I wasn’t running.”

“Then why’d I have to chase you?”

“Why did you?” I counter.

“Because I wasn’t ready to let you go.”

I’m ridiculously uncomfortable with the idea that he feels this now, but he won’t later, and I don’t know why. We’re strangers, not two lovers falling in love. I’m too interested in Ethan, and way too deep in my own lie, to ever have this night matter anyway.

“Why’d you run?”

“I didn’t—”I start.

“Why’d you leave?” he amends.

“Because change happens one moment and not the next.”

His brows dip. “What?”

“It’s something my mother said about opportunity. We were alone, and opportunity was there. Then we weren’t, and it wasn’t.”

“And yet, here we are.” The elevator dings, and he says, “Quite literally.”

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