Enemy Down

by Cathryn Fox

  “Why did you bid on me?”

  “We’ll get to that.”

  When she doesn’t move, I look at the boot on her foot. “If it’s causing you too much pain to walk, I can carry you.”

  She pushes off the door, and I grin, knowing that would get her moving. She does not like to show weakness, that’s for sure. She slowly crosses the room, each step determined as she walks by my small table for two, and stands by my comfy recliner, which faces my television. She turns to me, and crosses her arms over her chest in a protective move.

  “What exactly do you want from me?”

  “I don’t want anything from you.”

  “Why did you bid on me then?” She glances around. “What really goes on after these auctions?”

  I reach up, and she goes quiet, still, as I grip my hood and slide it off. Her big brown eyes go wide when she sees it’s me, but that shock quickly morphs into anger.

  “No, no way,” she seethes between clenched teeth. “Not you. I was told you didn’t participate in these auctions.” She makes a move to go, headed straight for the door, when I block her path and put my hands on her shoulders. A hard quiver makes its way through her body and if I didn’t know better, I could be convinced that she likes my hands on her. The other day when I held her down on the ground, the flush on her cheeks hadn’t gone unnoticed. I assumed it was from her injury, now…maybe it was from something else.

  Then again, I could just be projecting my own desires, and the only thing this girl wants from me is my nuts in a vice.

  “Maize, you’re mine,” I whisper and as soon as the words slip from my lips, my body reacts, eager for her to be mine, to take her any way I’d like, over and over again. Her eyes grow wide again, and it snaps me back to reality. “Wait, I don’t mean it like that.”

  “I’m leaving.”

  “Can you please just hear me out?”

  She hesitates and I can almost hear the wheels spinning as she tries to figure a way out of this, and a way to stay in school. That’s my angle right there.

  “All I want is to help you stay in school. That’s it.” I hold my hands out, palms facing her. “It’s my fault you were hurt, and I feel shitty about that.”

  Her eyes narrow to slits. “This is about high school, isn’t it? You want to finish what you started when you pulled your pants down, and tried to fuck me in that closet.”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t pull my pants down, Maize. You pulled them down.”

  Her mouth drops open and pink crawls into her cheeks. “No, I didn’t. Why would I do that?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Oh, I get it.” She shakes her head and lets loose a humorless laugh. “You decided to make fun of the new girl. Was it you who started the rumors that I was an easy lay? Did you call me corn on the cob?”

  “No, I didn’t, and I didn’t do what you think I did.” I honestly don’t know why she’s saying I pulled my own pants down, and I’ll examine that later. Right now, we have more important things to discuss. “Look, let’s forget about what happened in the past and focus on the now.”

  She shifts and I instinctively cover my nut sack. Her eyes drop. “What are you doing?”

  “Protecting myself from your knee.”

  She exhales. “You ruined high school for me, and now college, but I’m not going to hurt you.”

  I back up an inch. “Then let me explain. I’m not asking anything from you. You say I ruined you, then let me fix that.” I wave my hand between us. “Us…there isn’t an us. I just want you to live your own life, and I don’t know…get your ankle healed, get running again. Consider me your benefactor, and you’re the beneficiary.”

  She puts one hand on her hip and glares at me, and that’s when I notice the pretty gold flecks in her eyes. Jesus, she really is gorgeous. “I’m not taking money from you, and not giving you anything in return. What’s fair is fair, and I don’t take without giving. Just tell me what you want.” This time she waves her hand back and forth between the two of us. “There might not be any ‘us,’ but that’s the only way this beneficiary thing works for me.”

  My cock twitches, dying for me to hand over the mic, to let him tell her what I really want. I shut those thoughts down, and try not to visualize her legs spread wide, my tongue bringing her to climax. I shift, and tug the robe away from my body.

  “What do you want to do for me, Maize?” I ask, my voice a little low, a little rougher.

  She glances at her feet. “I…I…guess I could do your laundry or something…”

  “Or something?” I ask, hating where I’m taking this but unable to stop myself. “What do you mean by that?”

  Her sexy lips thin. “Not sex,” she blurts out.

  “We’ve already established sex was off the table.”

  But maybe it could be on the bed, or the floor, in the shower…

  “Do…do sponsors have sex with the women?”

  If she’s so against it, why does she sound like she’s interested?

  I give a casual shrug. “It’s not so bad, Maize. Most women are honored to be chosen. Who wouldn’t want to be pampered, put on a pedestal, or love being taken care of?”

  She squares her shoulders, and her lush breasts press against the buttoned-up front of her dress. “I take care of myself.”

  My gaze drops to her boot. “I’m well aware of that, but now, with your foot, you might just have to rely on someone else. Would that be so bad?”

  “You didn’t answer the question, Christian.”

  My dick twitches as my name dances on her soft pink tongue. I shrug. “I suppose sometimes they sleep together. If it’s mutual.”

  “Oh.”

  “But it’s not mutual for us, because neither of us want that, right?” I point out, testing her, because these mixed signals I’m picking up from her are messing with my head and my dick.

  Her chin inches up. “That’s right.”

  “If another guy had bid higher, and you went home with him, would you have let him take care of you, maybe even considered sex?”

  “I don’t know. It’s possible. You’re the only guy who ruined high school for me.”

  “Yeah, so you keep telling me,” I say, and while I didn’t ruin her in high school, since she’s misremembering what happened, I can’t help but think about all the delicious ways I could ruin her tonight, right here in my room, now that I’m her sugar daddy.

  5

  Maize

  I slide from Christian’s car, and he opens his door and circles the front to meet me. I lift my head and glare at him. “I can get into my house just fine,” I tell him, but there is this totally weird part of me that likes his attention. Ridiculous, I know, considering I can’t stand him. But I also can’t stop thinking about what he said to me, about being cared for. For as long as I can remember Mom and I have been taking care of ourselves. I wouldn’t know the first thing about handing myself over to someone.

  But you want to, don’t you, Maize?

  “Yes, you can, but I can help you get to the door, too,” he responds.

  I just shake my head. Kaitlyn had said she heard Christian never participated in the auctions. A stupid thrill goes through me and I quickly shut it down. He feels guilty. He’s only my ‘benefactor’ because he’s responsible for my fall. He does not want to sleep with me, a point he has made a few times, and I’m perfectly fine with that. Perfectly!

  I try to slip away when he puts his hand on the small of my back, partly because I can walk without his help and partly because it’s arousing things inside me, things that are foreign—things that are settling deep between my legs. Gawd… What the hell is wrong with me?

  Oh, just that you would like to have some good sex, just once in your life, and God’s gift to women here has a reputation a mile long.

  “Are you going to be this annoying all semester?” I ask.

  “Probably.”

  “Lucky me.”

  “That is entirely up to you,” he s
ays and when I hear what almost sounds like want in his voice, my gaze flies to his. The corners of his mouth twitch. What exactly is he saying to me? That getting lucky—with him—is up to me. Yeah, okay, I’m clearly still concussed. Or not.

  We climb my front steps and he when opens the door, I turn to him. “So are you going to tell me what I need to do?”

  “I’m thinking on it.”

  “I am not taking money that isn’t earned.”

  He steps closer, crowding me, and my pulse jumps in my neck. His gaze drops like he can see the steady throb in my neck and he wets his mouth. Does he want to kiss me or something? God, there I go with the ‘something’ again.

  “How about I text you later, with a list.”

  “Fine,” I say. “I’ll be waiting for that.” He holds his hand out, and I stare at it. “Phone.”

  “What for?”

  “Do you always have to question everything?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good to know. I want your phone so I can put my contact information in.”

  I nod and fish it from my pocket. His hand touches mine, his skin warm and rough against my wrist, and once again my mind wanders. What would his hand feel like on my naked body? I clear my throat, and his lids lift, those mesmerizing blue eyes full of curiosity.

  “Something the matter?” he asks.

  “No.”

  I stare at his big hands as he puts information into my phone. A second later, his pings. We stand there staring at each other for an awkward moment. For some unknown reason, I can’t seem to step away. He’s like a big magnet, and I’m a scrap of metal drawn by his force.

  He breaks the quiet. “See you later, Maize.”

  The slow sexy way he says my name sends tingles down my spine and I resist the urge to say, not if I see you first, because I will be seeing him. “Bye, Christian.”

  I step into the house and shut the door. I press my forehead against it, and put my hand on the wood, sensing he’s still standing there. Pull yourself together, girl. I shake my head, push off the door, and hobble up the stairs. I head down the hall, and there’s no tiptoeing and trying not to wake Kaitlyn when my boot makes more noise than a pirate with a peg leg. I have no idea why that makes me chuckle, madly, like a woman who escaped an asylum. Maybe it’s my way of letting the stress of the night go.

  Did I really go to an auction and sell myself to Christian Moore?

  Yeah, I sure did, and I wish to hell I regretted it more than I actually do. Ugh.

  Kaitlyn’s door opens and she looks at me like I might have grown a second head as I try to stifle my laughter. “I guess tonight went well, then?”

  I sober quickly. “It was horrible.”

  Her gaze goes up and down the length of me and she grins. “Maybe I should have stayed and watched.”

  She walked me to the frat house, but left after I entered. “It went fast, and so much for Christian not bidding.”

  Her mouth falls open, and she grabs me by the shoulders. “You’re Christian’s?”

  “I’m not his,” I snap, but yeah, I kind of am. Bought and paid for. “He’s my benefactor, and I will do things for him to earn the money.”

  “Oh, what kind of things?” she asks with a wag of her eyebrow.

  “Sex isn’t on the table, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Her head angles, her gaze moving over my face. “What?”

  “You sound disappointed about that.”

  “I’m not a prostitute, and I do not sound disappointed. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day and going up on that stage was beyond stressful.”

  Maybe I should have stayed, let Christian massage my tight muscles.

  “Well now you’re a sugar baby, a kept woman.” She frowns. “I wish I’d gotten a card. It’s kind of a sweet deal.”

  My jaw drops open. “You can’t be serious.”

  “As serious as a damn ankle injury, Maize.”

  “Maybe you’ll get lucky and get a football to the head.”

  She laughs, and covers her mouth, not wanting to wake our roommates. “Get some sleep,” I tell her.

  I hobble to the bathroom, get ready for bed, and then walk to my room. I tug on a night shirt, crawl into bed, and pull the covers up. Even though I’m exhausted, I’m too keyed up to fall asleep. I grab my cell, and a wave of disappointment curls through me when I don’t find a message from Christian. I toss it aside, but as soon as I do, it pings. I snatch it up far too quickly, and try to calm my racing heart as I read the text from Christian.

  How are your culinary skills?

  I run my fingers over the words as a goofy smile crosses my lips as I text back. “I’m a pretty good cook.”

  Breakfast tomorrow?

  I guess I can make you breakfast. My place or yours?

  Mine.

  Would this be breakfast in bed?

  Dammit, why oh, why did I have to bring up his bed?

  Yes.

  I drop my phone like it’s on fire, and peek at it over the covers.

  Nine okay?

  I snatch my phone and text back. That’s not much of a list.

  Still working on it. I’ll have it ready in the morning.

  I let him know nine is fine and I wait to see if he’s going to respond and when no message comes through, a ridiculous sound catches in my throat. I close my eyes, and toss restlessly. I’m sure my body has never been so alive. God, when I walked onto that stage tonight, and heard Christian bid on me, although at the time, I had no idea it was him, I was both nervous and shocked. I couldn’t understand why any guy would bid so high. Of course, I quickly learned why. Christian feels responsible for my ankle. But I can’t deny there was something in his eyes when he removed the hood of his robe, something that looked like desire. He assured me he wasn’t looking to finish what he started in that closet and I’m happy about that.

  If I’m so happy about that, why are my fingers inching downward, sliding between my widening legs? Normally when I fall into bed, I crash hard. Training will do that to you, but I suspect I’m not going to get any sleep tonight until I take the edge off, and not even sure if I can with my fingers, but dammit, I’m sure going to try.

  I let my knees fall open, and slide my finger over my clit. I imagine it’s Christian’s hand between my legs, his mouth working the nub that’s swelling beneath the pad of my finger. I groan and envision him in his bed right now, his cock in his hand as he strokes himself while he pictures me on my knees, his cock in my mouth. I rub myself harder, my mind on an erotic journey like never before. I’ve fantasized a time or two, but tonight the vision behind my eyes is vivid, real. Maybe it had something to do with the way he held me down the other day, or the way he looked at me tonight. I swear to God there was something that resembled hunger in his eyes. I slide a finger into my body and crush my clit beneath the heel of my hand, and just like that, a powerful orgasm grips me hard, and I try to stifle a moan as I grow slicker between my legs.

  I stay like that until the spasms stop. I go quiet as wind picks up outside, beating against the old house and rattling the windows. I try to breathe, to refill my collapsed lungs as I revel in the post-orgasm bliss. My God, I have never, in my entire life, climaxed so fast or so hard. What is going on with my body?

  Maybe it just really wants to be touched by Christian.

  No, no, no. I hate him, but that doesn’t mean I can’t admire a work of art when I see it, right? Still, I’m not going to sleep with him. This exchange is me helping him, and him paying for it. It can’t be about anything else. When I can finally move again, I grab a few tissues, clean myself up, and fall into a restless sleep filled with dreams of Christian.

  My alarm goes off, and I peel one eye open, and when thoughts of seeing Christian this morning race through my sleep-deprived brain, I sit up, wishing I wasn’t quite so excited. I push to my feet, the stupid boot heavy and awkward as I grab my robe and throw it over my shoulders. I can’t wait until I no longer have to wear the boot while sleeping.
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  My roommates are still asleep, although I don’t know how with the rain pelting against the window. I glance at the rotten wood around my window, wet from the downpour. I can’t even imagine the mold we’re all breathing in on a daily basis, living in this run-down place, but it’s all we can afford and our landlord is a deadbeat. My gaze lifts to the gray and dreary sky and the need to go for a long run physically pulls at me. I can feel it deep in my gut. But I can’t run, and the only way I can pay my bills is to get my ass over to Christian’s and cook breakfast for him, which is ridiculous. But far better than sleeping with him. Right?

  My thoughts go to my mother and my stomach tightens. What would she think if she knew I was basically a sugar baby, minus the sex? I don’t know and I can’t think about that. All I know is I have to do what I have to do to get to where I want in this world. It’s a means to an end that will help me become a lawyer, so I can use my knowledge to help others.

  Just focus on that, girl, and you’ll be just fine.

  I tug off my robe and nighty and remove my boot. I shower quickly and once done, I pull on my underthings, my favorite yoga pants, T-shirt and a light raincoat, then put my boot back on and cover it with a plastic bag. I snatch up my purse, but the second I open the door and step out onto the stoop, and find Christian walking toward me with that sexy swagger that squeezes my damn ovaries, I know in an instant, I’m not going to be just fine.

  Not going to be just fine at all.

  6

  Christian

  I catch the way her eyes widen, and her mouth drops open, but before she can say anything, I hurry up to her and put my umbrella over her head to keep her dry. Dark brown eyes narrow to slits as she looks up at me, a mixture of anger, and perhaps pleasure on her face.

  Her ponytail swishes as she turns toward my vehicle, then zeroes in on me again. “What…what are you doing here?”

  I shrug and even though it’s obvious, I say, “It’s raining, and you’re in a boot. I didn’t want you to get wet.”