Page 65 of Undeniably Enemies

With a roar, his head flings back, and I watch as his face pinches up and he releases into me. I can feel it. The heat and the warmth. The trickle of his cum as it already starts to leak around his cock.

He sags, and his grip immediately slackens, both of ussweaty and breathless. I pull my arms into my chest as I catch my breath. What the hell did I just allow to happen? Stupid, greedy lust. Now look what I’ve done. In a moment of panic, I push him off me, gather my clothes, and run for the door.

“Wren!” he cries, but I slam the door and race into my apartment, shutting and locking the door behind me. That can never happen again.

19

Click, click, click, click. Four clicks of her lock. Four. I stare at her door and debate if I should knock, but I think the four clicks and the fact that she just ran across the hall naked is telling me she doesn’t want me to do that. Speaking of naked, I’m literally standing in the hall with my dick in my hand, and though it’s late, anyone could find me like this.

Goddammit, Wren.

Talk about a role reversal. I’m not freaking out the way I did the first time, and she is. The irony isn’t lost on me, but I don’t think this is her way of proving a point. Hesitation and doubts aren’t two things I’m known for. If anything, I’ve been called arrogant and a bit too cocky more than once. But she has me holding myself back instead of banging on her door and fucking her blind so she knows she isn’t going to be running again.

This is the second time I’m cheated out of more with her, and I don’t like it. But maybe she’s right to run. I hadn’t exactly planned on kissing her again, let alone taking it as far as I did.

Entering my apartment, I shut and lock the door, feelingshitty and unsettled. I’m half tempted to text her, but I don’t think that would go well. Neither would knocking on the wall that separates our apartments. I scrub my hands up and down my face before they fall heavily to my sides. Something sparkly on the floor catches my attention, and I pick it up.

Her bracelet.

I run the cold metal through my fingers only to snag on the clasp. It broke. Examining it a bit closer, I think I might be able to fix it. Quickly, I throw my clothes back on, grab the tool kit I just bought, and take it to the bar at the counter. My hand runs over the stone where I had her splayed out and my mouth on her pussy.

What am I doing with her? What’s my endgame with this?

Was it just a one-off? A way to scratch a five-year-old itch? Am I after something else with the pain in the ass? Or truth, did that fucking drink actually have some sort of black Voodoo magic in it? ’Til death do us part. Better fucking not be. She drives me crazy. We can hardly stand to be in the same space for longer than two minutes without fighting. Even tonight the sex wasn’t exactly what I’d call cute and cuddly. It was hate sex.

I glance toward the door, and my heart pumps out an extra beat. It would be like me to start to fall for a woman who’s ten years younger than me, my best friend’s little sister, and also hates my guts. Plus, she’s a student, and I’m after the chief position in the emergency department.

I can’t let this happen.

I’ve suffered enough disappointment and heartbreak to last me ten lifetimes.

But having sex with Wren didn’t knock her out of my system. It didn’t scratch that old, persistent itch. It didn’t close some odd curiosity or unfinished business. It’s only made me want her more, and I’m not sure what I should do about it, if anything. Maybe not anything.

I don’t know what I want from her. Just sex? Dating? Nothing?

The notion of dating Wren Fritz is laughable, especially when I haven’t wanted to date anyone in a very long time. And it’s fucking Wren. The girl gets under my skin and rubs it the wrong way. But it’s impossible to deny that Friday Alden and I ran into her at the bar, that I didn’t love putting my hand on the small of her back as she slid into the booth and watching every fucker who was looking at her think she was mine.

What I want and the reality of what we have are two different things. I’m better off putting tonight out of my head, chalking it up to whatever bullshit I can sell myself on, and leaving it at that. That’s the smart play.

Except the thought of never having her again… shit, I’m in trouble.

Without allowing myself to focus on that, because it’s an obvious shitstorm in the making, I set to work on her bracelet. The gold clasp is small and fragile, but I work the pliers carefully and manage to twist it back without snapping it. Feeling satisfied with that, I leave it on the counter and put my tools away. I get ready for bed and climb under the sheets, immediately turning toward her wall.

There are so many reasons why Wren Fritz makes no sense at all.

Still, I’m not sure those reasons are going to be enough to stop me anymore.

My fist rapson her door a shade harder than I intend. It’s early, and part of me is hoping she’s still asleep and doesn’t answer. I’m in my running clothes, and after a shitty night of sleep, I need a good, hard run so I don’t give my neighbor a good, hard fuck.

Just as I’m about to give up, a deep male voice I do not recognize asks, “Who is it?”

The fuck? Did she go out and bring someone else home?

Rage and jealousy light a fire in my stomach. “It’s Jack, her neighbor,” I bark, not even bothering to disguise my fury.

The door unlocks, and I’m greeted by… the tallest man I’ve ever seen. I’m a tall guy at six-five, but he’s got another few inches on me in addition to the sparkly red platform Converse heels sporting at seven in the morning. Holy crap. I know him.

“Jack!” he exclaims, reaching out his hand for mine. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Tyson?—”

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