Enemy Down

by Cathryn Fox

  I swallow as that visual dances in my mind’s eye. Christian on his knees, his hands touching me as he parts my sex with his tongue and brings me to climax. Oh boy!

  “Whatever,” I say, ignoring the flutter inside me, and hating the high pitch of my voice. “Fine, I’ll go, but promise me, no screaming. I don’t like to draw attention to myself and you know that.”

  “I can’t promise that. I get caught up in the game and things just spill from my lips.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “I need a new best friend.”

  She laughs, and drags me across campus and to the stadium. We finally find seats, and I can’t seem to take my eyes off Christian throughout the game. Kaitlyn cheers beside me when the Falcons get a touchdown, she jumps, and I find myself screaming right along with her from my seat. Who knew I could get into the game so easily?

  “Fun, huh?” Kaitlyn grins as she drops back down.

  “Who knew.”

  “There’s a whole world out there, my friend. You should have a look at it once in a while.”

  I laugh at that, but she’s not wrong. I’ve always kept my head down and my mind focused. But now, I can’t focus on anything, thanks to Christian. Maybe I should jump him, climb him like a damn tree, and have my way with him. Maybe that would help get me back on track, and yeah, living life a little.

  “What’s going through that mind of yours?” Kaitlyn asks.

  “Oh, just thinking about having sex with Christian,” I say honestly and her jaw drops. Her hands go to my shoulders.

  “Do it. Tonight.”

  Nervous energy swirls through my stomach. “What if he doesn’t want me?”

  She lets loose a hysterical laugh that draws attention. “Shh,” I say.

  “Trust me on this. He wants you.”

  Could she be right? What if I take a chance and she’s wrong and Christian laughs at me?

  What if she’s right and Christian takes me to his bed?

  Neither one of us are thinking long term or a future. We are both on different paths, but why couldn’t we have one night of pleasure?

  Kaitlyn jumps up again, and I sit there wondering what happened. God, I was so lost in my own thoughts I didn’t realize we just won the game.

  “Come on,” Kaitlyn says and grabs my arm. “Let’s head to the Growler so we can get good seats.”

  We weave our way through the excited crowd as the cheerleaders jump on the players’ backs and they carry them inside. My stomach is in knots. Does Christian have after-game party plans with one of those hot girls tonight? If he does, I’m going to have to see about changing that.

  Whoa, where did this fierce Maize come from? I’m not sure, but I think I like her. We make our way to the Growler, which is totally packed, so we find seats at the bar. Minutes tick by and my anxiety peaks as I wait for Christian. Antsy and hardly able to sit still, I tell Kaitlyn I’m making a trip to the ladies’ room, where I splash a bit of water on my face. As I come back down the hall, I hear the commotion and know the players and cheerleaders have arrived.

  I reach the end of the long hall, and stop where I am as Christian walks in like he owns the damn place. I do love that man’s confidence. There’s a cheerleader on his back as he makes his way to the bar, and he goes completely still when his gaze lands on me. He shakes the girl off, says something to her, and with pouty lips, she saunters off.

  His strides are long, determined, as he moves people out of his way, to get to me. He stops, and I try to breathe as I lift my chin to meet his eyes.

  “You came,” he says, an intensity about him that is both terrifying and exhilarating. Is this how he gets after a game? I’m not sure, and I’m also wondering why my fierceness from earlier has disappeared. I nod and he angles his head.

  “Were you at the game too?” he asks.

  “Yes.” I glance around at all the girls vying for his attention. “Am I keeping you from your fucking?”

  Taking me by surprise, his face goes hard, the blue in his eyes deepening as he backs me up into the long hallway and pushes me against the wall. “What do you know about fucking, Maize?”

  12

  Maize

  I stand there staring at Christian, my gaze moving over the tightness in his jaw, as well as the fierceness in his eyes, as I try to process the question still lingering on his kissable lips.

  He leans into me. “What do you know about fucking, Maize?” he growls into my ear, sending shivers of hot desire through my trembling body.

  I swallow hard, and the sound gets drowned out in the rowdy crowd and for that, I’m grateful. But does it matter? I’m pretty sure the man who bought me a few weeks ago can feel the tension, the need emanating from my body as he hovers over me, his groin pressed against my body in a way that has shut down my ability to think with any sort of clarity. I might not be his regular type, but tonight, I think I’m going to be his everything. Or at least I hope so.

  Is this really happening?

  His head dips, his lips close to mine. “Answer me.”

  “Christian…I.” What the hell do I say? I know nothing about fucking, other than how the moving parts fit together. I fumbled around in the dark with Ryan, for God’s sake, and took no pleasure in the actual messy, painful act of sex.

  His fingers tighten on my shoulders, and the rough pads of his thumbs are sure to leave a bruise, but what frightens me most is how much I like it, how much I like when he holds me in place…holds me down hard, like he did that day I was injured. Dear God, I can’t even believe I’m admitting that to myself. Does that make me weak, feeble, a delicate little girl in need of a man’s care? I pride myself on being capable, strong—unbreakable.

  But I don’t want to be any of those things right now. No, I want Christian to…break me. God, what am I saying? What am I admitting?

  His gaze moves over my face, like he can see the internal struggle going on inside my brain, see exactly where my thoughts have strayed, and more importantly, exactly where they’ve settled. He nods, a slow movement of his head, like he’s coming to some hard-earned conclusion himself and I can’t help but think he too has been battling his own demons.

  “Is this where we are, Maize?” I stare at him, and get what he’s asking. This has nothing to do with being in the Growler, nothing to do with our location in the hallway. This has everything to do with this tug between us, one we’re both clearly feeling. But what he’s really asking is, are we going to act on it?

  Do we really have a choice? I don’t know about him, but if he doesn’t touch me soon, I’m going to melt into a puddle at his feet.

  “Christian,” a high-pitched voice says from behind. “What are you doing in the hall? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Annoyance spills from the pretty girl’s lips as she grabs the back of his jacket and pulls. Without taking his eyes off me, he rolls his shoulder to shrug her off. An angry sound rises in her throat and she moves around him to glare at me with hate and disdain. I take in the scowl on her face, but my gaze is forced back to Christian’s, when he cups my chin and bluntly moves me.

  “Is this where we are, Maize?”

  I take a breath, try to fill my constricted lungs, and as I let it out, I say, “Yes.”

  His pupils dilate even more, his pulse pounding at the base of his throat as he pulls me from the wall. “Home. Now.”

  Before I know what’s happening, he has my hand and is tugging me through the crowd, his stride a bit slower than normal, and I chalk that up to my injured foot. I scan the bar and catch Kaitlyn smirking at me. She gives a little finger wave and a nod of approval as he drags me outside, the cooler night air falling around us.

  Without a word, he takes off his team jacket, drapes it over my shoulders and scoops me up, setting me in the passenger side of his Jeep. I still can’t quite get enough air as he circles the front, and climbs in beside me, his big presence eating up the space and completely overwhelming me. The smell of his freshly soaped skin reaches my nostrils and my girly parts tin
gle as I breathe him in.

  Five agonizing minutes later, he carries me up the long flight of stairs at the back of Wolf House, and when we reach his bedroom, he steps inside, kicks his door shut with a hell of a lot of force, and sets the lock. The sound of the bolt sliding home sends shivers through my overheated body.

  I stare at him as he sets me on my feet, shoves his jacket from my shoulders, and presses my back to the door. The fierce energy radiating off him glides over my skin. Is he always like this after a game, or does this have more to do with the tension that has been building between us?

  His head dips, his lips a breath away from mine, and a whimper catches in my throat. My God, I don’t think I’ve ever whimpered in my life. He cups my face, his thumb brushing over my lower lip.

  “This fucking mouth.” He shoves his thumb between my lips and I suck. “I can’t stop thinking about fucking this mouth,” he murmurs and draws his thumb out to put his hands on my ribcage, his thumbs touching the underside of my breasts. “I want to fuck you everywhere.”

  I gulp, and he stands back, his hands falling as he looks me over, like he’s gauging my reaction to his crass words. I’m sure the quiver in my body is a dead giveaway—to him and me—how much I like it. Who knew I’d like dirty talk?

  His gaze rakes over me, and something flashes in his eyes. Need, want…worry? For one quick second, I think he’s changed his mind about going any further with me, but then his gaze jerks back up to mine, and like he’s no longer in control of himself, he picks me up again like I weigh nothing, and carries me to his bed. He sets me down, drops to his knees, and with little effort removes my boot. He lightly runs his fingers along my ankle after he frees it from the binding, and the rest of my body aches for that kind of attention.

  “Better?” he asks, his voice deep and labored as he stands, and I can’t stop myself from staring at the huge bulge in his jeans. Christian is aroused…because of me. That thought does the strangest things to the needy spot between my legs and my throat grows dry with desire.

  “Yeah,” I manage to get out, and I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip as I envision myself with his cock in my mouth. His growl pulls me back from my musings.

  “Look at me, Maize.” My head lifts as his commanding tone dampens my panties even more. What is it about his take-charge attitude that turns me on so much? I don’t know but…please don’t stop.

  His fingers fist and relax again at his sides. I get the sense that it’s taking all his effort to keep it together, and that thought turns me on even more.

  “Been taking care of yourself for a long time huh?”

  I grip the bedsheets, curl them in my fingers. “Yes.”

  He sinks to the floor, crawls toward me, and grips my knees. He widens my legs and slides one hand up my inner thigh, touching my sex through my clothes.

  “So gorgeous.” He widens my legs even more and the second he touches me, his rough finger caressing my swollen clit through my pants, my synapses stop firing and my body burns with an unfamiliar want.

  He presses his finger a little harder against my clit, drawing my attention down. “Even here?” My God, no one has ever asked me such a personal question before. I stare at him, my mouth opening and closing. He cocks his head. “It’s easy, Maize. Yes or no?”

  “No…Yes, I mean…I don’t know.” With my Catholic upbringing kicking in, I try to slam my thighs shut, but he won’t let me. I’m strong, but he’s stronger. He sits there waiting for an answer, his hand still on my clit, as my brain races. Ryan and I fumbled around in the dark and it’s far too bright in this room. When I touch myself, I do it without sound, fearful of anyone hearing in the dead of the night. How am I going to go through with this?

  “I need to know, Maize.”

  “Yes, even…there.” I glance around. “It’s too bright in here.”

  Ignoring me, he goes back on his heels, his hands on my thighs. “So what do you know about fucking?”

  My first reaction is to blurt out, “A lot.”

  He angles his head, and goes thoughtful for a moment. “You’ve done this before, then?”

  “Yes. I’ve had sex. Ryan and I…well, we had sex,” I blurt out, although he has no idea that my childhood friend and I deflowered each other, all with zero romance. What the hell am I even thinking? This isn’t romance. This is about fucking. The one and only Christian Moore doesn’t do romance or relationships. He fucks. Simple as that.

  The muscles in his jaw tighten. “This isn’t the first time you’ve mentioned Ryan. Who is he?” he asks through clenched teeth, and a wave of embarrassment moves through me. I’m not about to tell him the story. Although from the look on his face, I fear he might just drag it out of me.

  I give a dismissive wave, and note how shaky my hands are. “Just a guy, from a long time ago.”

  His gaze narrows in on me. “Is he here, at Kingston?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Good, now I don’t have to kill him.”

  I stiffen. “Why would you—”

  “He obviously means something to you. You keep bringing him up.”

  “He’s just a guy from back home. A friend I grew up with. The boy next door.”

  He stares at me long and hard, like he’s trying to process. “You fucked a friend?”

  “I don’t date, Christian. I fuck,” I say, with more bravado than I feel as I shoot his words back at him, and he grins.

  “Is that right? So you and Ryan fuck, then?”

  “We did once.” I give a frustrated sigh and hit the bed with my fist. “We just…wanted to get rid of our virginity before college. Him more than me.”

  His fingers curl. “It was mutual?”

  “Yes,” I say quickly, and take in the anger in his eyes. What would he have done if it wasn’t? “I was tired of being a virgin.”

  “You did it once, then.” He nods and scrubs his face. “You know nothing about fucking, do you?”

  “No, I don’t,” I admit. Will he leave now? Leave the inexperienced girl who knows nothing, to take the edge off herself while he goes and gets a seasoned girl who knows how to please a guy?

  “Good.”

  His answer takes me by surprise. “Why is that good?”

  “Because I get to be the guy to show you how good it can be. There won’t be any fumbling in the dark,” he says, pushing me down on the bed as he glances at his lamp. “The lights stay on. I want to see you.”

  He holds me immobile. A gasp I have zero control over crawls out of my throat and he stares at me so long, I swear he can see all my dirty secrets, read all the filthy thoughts that would have undoubtedly send my old Catholic teachers into a frenzy. Do I care? Hell no, and yeah… Hell. That’s where I might be going. But right now, I suspect this man is going to take me to heaven and I’m ready for the ride because I want this.

  I want him.

  Consequences be damned.

  He stands up, reaches over his back in typical guy fashion, grabs his shirt and pulls it over his head. Starting at his shoulders, my gaze drops, taking pleasure in every bump and valley. For the last few weeks, I’ve tried not to stare, but now I can look my fill.

  “Sit up,” he commands, and I do what he says. He steps up to me, takes my hand and puts it on his body.

  “You’ve been staring for weeks, Maize. I thought maybe you’d like to touch.”

  I nod—no sense in denying it—and unable to find my words, I run my hands over his taut skin and hard muscles. My breathing changes, and when he rips into his jeans, I nearly collapse. He stands there, with the button open, and a measure of panic goes through me. Do I shove my hands in his pants? Do I take him into my mouth like he talked about?

  “Relax, Maize.” He runs the back of his hand over my cheek, his eyes full of understanding. “I’ll walk you through this.” I nod, and look down, but he touches my chin, bringing my eyes to his. “Tell me you want that.”

  I nod again.

  “I need to hear it.”
>
  “I want that,” I say, pushing those three words from the depths of my dry throat. “I want…you.” The next thing I know he’s on his knees, his hand cupping the back of my head as his mouth finds mine. His lips devour me, eat at me as he unceremoniously puts his tongue into my mouth, seeking mine. I give him what he wants, shutting my eyes against the intense pleasure sliding through my quivering body. My nipples harden and it teases every erogenous zone in my body, even a few I had no idea existed until now—until this man. There is only one word to describe what I’m currently feeling. Heaven.

  “Sweet mother of God and all that is holy.”

  “Are you praying, Maize?” he murmurs, before going back to doing insane things to me. Tasting, teasing, licking…owning. This man is going to own my body tonight.

  I work to form a coherent sentence as that thought circles my brain, warning I should probably be more frightened by that. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to say any of that out loud.”

  He inches back, his lips damp from our kiss. “Don’t be. I want you to tell me everything. What feels good, what doesn’t. I don’t want you to hold anything back. That’s what fucking is all about.”

  “Okay,” I say. He takes my hands and puts them back on his body, and his muscles flex as I explore, touch him all over, reveling in the tightness of his skin as I run my palms around his back—wanting to touch every last inch of him. I slide upward and fist my fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss and his growls of encouragement fill me with bravado.

  He breaks the kiss. “This is how it’s going to work,” he says, the intensity in his eyes letting me know he’s calling the shots—because clearly, I know nothing about fucking. “I’m going to put my mouth, my hands and my tongue on every inch of your body…” His hand slides lower, going between my breasts until he reaches the juncture of my legs. “Even here.”

  “I’ve never…”

  “Yeah, I get it. Ryan didn’t do right by you, and while I might have mixed feelings on that, I’m totally going to give you everything you deserve.”