Page 141 of Enemies

Not sharing her body with me, but her life. Her hopes. Her fears.

I’ll guard her with every shred of my being.

I let us both adjust, her to the stretch, me to the exquisite tightness.

I draw back, all the way to the tip, on an inhale. And on my exhale, I sink back in.

The curves of her body are addictive, demanding my attention. But I can’t look away from her eyes as my thrusts grow deeper.

“You’re a goddess.”

I’m on the edge, ready to explode.

“I’m a queen,” she corrects with a breathless smile.

We come at the same time.

I’ve never wanted it, never understood why it would matter for our bodies to agree even when our lips couldn’t.

With her, it’s everything.

After, she lets me hold her in the dark.

“You’re my queen,” I murmur as I brush the hair from her face.

But she’s already asleep.

14

RAE

“We can’t let it go for that amount.”

The manager at Blaze turns away from me and Leni, marking something off on his clipboard.

When I told Leni I’d made a call about buying the former club’s audio equipment after returning from Miami, she agreed to come for a meeting. I decided to tag along in case I could help and because I needed a few hours away from my own thoughts.

I chase the manager, Leni hot on my heels. “It’s a good offer for used gear, Tony. Wouldn’t you rather it go to another club?”

“I’m not the owner. But if I were him, he’d say fuck no. Why should someone else succeed at this game when Blaze got squeezed out?”

It’s petty, and I’m still turning that over as Leni sidles up.

“Listen, friend.” She flashes teeth, but I’m not sure it’s a smile. “This place is being demolished. It’s being taken apart around you.”

And it is—as we speak, tradespeople are passing through, taking measurements to convert this into whatever it will be.

“In a few months, it’ll be like this was never here. Your owner might not give a shit because he’s onto the next investment. But you do. If some of your crew need jobs?” She holds out a card. “You can send them my way. Sick days. Flexible shifts. I’ll treat them right.”

He takes the card from her, considering.

But I’m watching Leni. Dressed in shorts and a floral-printed tank top, she doesn’t look like the right-hand man to a billionaire. But the intensity on her face sets her apart.

“If you can add a few thousand to your offer and promise you’ll interview my staff,” Tony says slowly, “I’ll go to work on the owner.”

This time, Leni’s smile is genuine. “You do that.”

As we head out into the sunshine, rounding the back parking lot to Leni’s beat-up Jetta, I’m still turning over what happened.

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