Enticing the Enemy

by Jules Court

  “And I didn’t stop it.”

  “If there’s one thing I’m still trying to learn, it’s that it’s okay to save yourself. You’re still here.” She gave his arm a squeeze just to reaffirm the solidity of it. The solidity of him. “You’re here,” she said.

  He was mentally withdrawing, she could feel it in the way he shrank back from her touch, the way he wouldn’t meet her eyes. She dropped her hand. He was probably already regretting exposing so much.

  But it had been brave. Far braver than she’d ever been. She drew a breath and steeled herself.

  “My mom used to have this boyfriend,” she said. “Well, she had lots of boyfriends, but there was one in particular who was the worst. Funny thing was, everyone thought he was the best. Gainfully employed and didn’t drink much other than an occasional beer—a real health freak. When he moved in, he made my mom make chicken and broccoli for almost every meal.”

  She swallowed against the sudden memory of dried out chicken. No oil or sauces or seasoning; they couldn’t have salt or sugar or fat. Just plain dry chicken that she choked down as he watched.

  “Wasn’t long until I noticed my mom with bruises. She’d make up excuses, but I knew he was going after her. After he left—yeah, he’s the one who called it off, not her—I asked her why. Why did she stay with him? And she told me, ‘Someday you’ll understand.’” She stubbed the end of her cigarette on the hard concrete. “I don’t ever want to understand.”

  His voice was gentle. “From what I’ve seen, domestic violence can be like brainwashing. It wasn’t your mom’s fault.”

  She didn’t want him to be kind. It blurred the lines between them. “I know. I blame her for a lot of things. I don’t blame her for his actions. I’m just scared that that will happen to me.”

  It was hard to explain, this feeling that if she let herself fall, she’d drown tangled up in some man. She wasn’t afraid that he’d abuse her. It was more she was afraid she’d lose herself trying to become everything he wanted just so he wouldn’t leave. The way her mother and sister did. And the men left anyway. Just like her father had.

  “Not all relationships are like that.”

  “I know that intellectually, but I can’t feel it. Something inside me is broken. Sometimes I wish I could believe in something, but I can’t. I can’t be anything but hard and brittle and suspicious. There’s nothing over that rainbow, it’s just an optical illusion.”

  He gave her a grim smile. “You’re not the only broken one.”

  The front door opened, shattering the new tentative understanding that had crept up between them. “There you are,” Brian said. “You better not let Dr. Priya Shah see you with those things, or you’ll get a lecture on the dangers of smoking. You coming in? I’m ready to eat.”

  “We’ll be right there,” Danny said.

  Brian shrugged and shut the door.

  Danny turned to her. “I guess our truce is over now. Game on?”

  She wasn’t ready yet. She wanted just a little bit more even though she knew it would and could never be. “I want to have sex with you. Tonight.”

  His eyes widened in obvious shock at her impulsive words. But she just wanted one night in someone’s arms. And maybe, with him, it would be different this time.

  She jumped up. Suddenly she was equally scared of whatever his answer would be—yes or no.

  He grabbed her hand before she could leave. “Just tonight,” he said. “I don’t have anything else to give.”

  “Just tonight.” She inhaled deeply and forced herself to speak. She’d propositioned him, the least she could do was let him know what he was getting into—literally. “Sex is kind of... I mean, I sort of tune out or something...”

  “You told me.”

  “I what?” She made a halfhearted attempt to pull her hand from his, but he held on.

  “Just before you passed out.”

  Her face flamed. “This is a mistake—”

  “Don’t overcomplicate it.”

  “Overcomplicate! I don’t—” she began to sputter, but cut off when saw him grin. “You’re trying to get me worked up.”

  “And I’ll do it again tonight,” he promised.

  At his words, the fluttering in her stomach moved south. She swallowed against the sudden dryness of her mouth.

  “We should go back in,” he said, releasing her hand.

  Yes, go back. Where she would have to pretend she wasn’t picturing naked flesh on flesh while he drove into her, hard and hot—

  She shrugged out of his wool coat. “Here, I don’t need this,” she said, holding it out to him. “It feels a bit warmer out here now.”

  They returned to the others and Danny tried to act normal. But his gaze kept slipping back to Erin. He’d never seen her so relaxed. When her laugh rang out at something Brian said, it held no edge of bitterness or sarcasm. He found himself wishing he could make her laugh. But he wasn’t good with words and he definitely wasn’t funny. He was just a jaded, bitter cop with a questionable past.

  She caught his gaze over the mashed potatoes and gave a tiny, secret smile meant just for him. If he had a heart it would have leaped in his chest, but since he didn’t, he probably should cut himself off after he finished his current glass of cabernet.

  What had he agreed to? He had to admit to himself that he wanted her. Badly. But this was the Titanic steering straight for an iceberg.

  He wasn’t going to do it. He wasn’t going to bury himself between her undoubtedly luscious thighs. Nope. He was going to clean his kitchen, finish reading the Jack Reacher novel on his nightstand, and go to bed. Alone. By tomorrow, he would be back to his usual self.

  When he brought out the chocolate hazelnut torte, he found himself almost holding his breath for her reaction. She took a forkful and parted her lips. She closed her eyes when she swallowed and let out a tiny hum of pleasure. He shifted against the hardening of his cock.

  “This is so good,” he heard Priya say as he watched Erin. “Sorry, Brian, I’m in love with Danny now.”

  After the cake was gone, he served coffee and espresso.

  “I’m in a food coma,” Will said, rubbing his flat belly.

  “This was delicious, Danny. I had no idea you were such a good cook,” Priya said. “Unfortunately, I’ve got to get going. I’ve got the night shift.”

  Their words were a prompt for the others to make their leaving noises.

  “Can I give you a ride home?” Will asked Erin.

  Danny quickly began picking up the dessert plates to hide the scowl he felt forming on his face. It didn’t matter to him if Erin hooked up with Will. It made sense.

  She gave Will a sunny smile. “Thanks.”

  They all trooped out after saying their goodbyes and Danny sank into the nearest chair. A second later a knock sounded on the door and Erin pushed it open.

  “Told Will I forgot my purse,” she said.

  He took a look around.

  “Don’t bother. I lied.” She leaned against the closed door. “241A Water Street,” she said. “It’s in Somerville. Two rules. You wear a condom and you never tell anyone about this. I’m letting Will give me a ride because it would have looked suspicious if I stayed. So, no bragging down at the station house.” She whirled around and was out the door before he could respond.

  He drained the last bit of wine in his glass.

  Chapter Ten

  When her apartment door closed behind Danny, doubt crept in. Why had she invited him back to her place? In the two years she’d lived in the one-bedroom place in Somerville, the only person who’d ever been in there had been the cable guy to set up the internet. It was her refuge. It was her place all to herself. No one yelling or fighting, no beer bottles or laundry strung about, no one to pound on the bathroom door while she
was in the middle of a shower telling her to hurry up. And she never had to lock her bedroom door because her mom’s new boyfriend looked at her in a way that gave her the creeps.

  It was all hers and she didn’t share it with anyone.

  And now Cruz was inside. Tall and dark and brutally handsome. He didn’t say anything. Merely tossed his coat aside and advanced.

  She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her mouth. A delicious tingling began in the pit of her stomach and moved lower. The expression “bitten off more than she could chew” came to mind.

  He wheeled her around so her back was pressed up against the door, and fell against her. There was no softness in his kiss, no sweetness anywhere, just raw, brutal passion.

  As they kissed, he ground himself against her. She dug her hands under his shirt, feeling his skin, so smooth and hot. She traced the hard line of his spine.

  He pulled away and grabbed the hem of her sweater. In one fluid motion, he stripped it from her, leaving her clad only in her lacy white bra. Turnabout was fair play, so she gripped his sweater and yanked it up. He finished the job for her, pulling it over his head and throwing it on the ground atop her sweater. His tattoos wrapped around both arms, completely covering them. On his right side, it climbed up his shoulder, stopping just below his collarbone. She let her fingers trace them. His skin was warm to her touch.

  “Are these you or Carlos?” she asked.

  He grabbed her hands, wrapping his fingers around her wrists like handcuffs. “I don’t know.” He pulled her forward.

  Her breasts crushed against his chest and he lowered his head to capture her mouth in another searing kiss. His tongue breached the seal of her lips, invading her mouth. She met it with her own as inside her the heat built and built. She squeezed her inner thighs together against the sudden need.

  He pulled his head back. “Bedroom?”

  She pointed to her bedroom door just before the ground tilted under her feet as he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. She let out a squeal, which earned her a light smack on the ass that made her want to squeal again but not out of surprise this time.

  In her bedroom, he dropped her on the bed. She shimmied off her jeans and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties to slide them off. She looked up to see him undress, and the sight was enough to halt her motions. He pushed his jeans and boxers past his narrow hips, down long, muscled legs, stepping free of them to stand naked before her. He was beautiful, slim and lean muscled. His cock jutted out from his body proudly.

  The sight set off a throbbing deep inside so strong that she had to move. She pushed off her panties, desire a pulsing need.

  “Condom?” Her question came out like a hoarse whisper.

  He smiled and held up the condom he’d managed to palm while she’d been drooling over his body. “Now spread your legs. Don’t worry, I’m not going to try and jam it in you,” he said, using the words she’d once drunkenly said to him. The mattress dipped as he sat down next to her. He gently placed a hand on each knee and pushed her legs apart.

  She turned her head on the pillow, suddenly too embarrassed to meet his eyes. But her body wasn’t embarrassed, becoming wet with arousal at the sudden vulnerability.

  “Look at me.”

  She turned her head to meet his eyes, so dark and intense.

  “We’re going to play a game of warm and cold. Remember that game? I’m going to touch you and you’re going to tell me when I’m getting warmer or if I’m getting cold. You’re in control.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can get you off.”

  “I don’t... I mean, I do. But it takes a lot of work and I can’t quite get there with another person.”

  “Just get out of your head and enjoy the ride.” He ran his finger down the inside of her thigh. “Warmer or colder?”

  “Warmer.”

  His hands touched her vulva. He spread her lips with the fingers of one hand.

  “Oh, definitely warmer.”

  And there it was, that slow, sexy smile of his. Her pointed nipples became almost painfully hard.

  With the other hand he trailed his fingers up her inner lips. He stopped.

  She lifted her head off the pillow. “What?”

  “You didn’t say ‘warmer.’”

  “Warmer. Freaking warmer.” If he didn’t keep moving those clever fingers, she’d have to choke him out between her thighs.

  “Good girl,” he said. He stroked up and down, tracing patterns, before finding her clit. He circled it once and stopped.

  “Hot!” she all but begged. This was no time for pride.

  He continued with those brain-exploding strokes, teasing her until her breathing became shallower and heat prickled across her body. Then, with one finger paused at her entrance, he waited for her permission.

  “Hot,” she said, and gasped as he plunged his finger inside her.

  He withdrew, painting her clit with the moisture he’d gathered, before returning to thrust it in her again. Once again, retreating to brush and swirl his fingers around her clit, flicking and teasing. The heat climbed and climbed until she was rubbing her heels fitfully against the bedspread. She was almost there. Was this really going to happen?

  He pinched her nipple hard enough she gave a surprised yelp, but the slight sting traveled through her body like an electric shock. Her vagina spasmed. “Oh my God.”

  “Stop thinking,” he said just before he lowered his head.

  The warm and wet touch of his tongue to her clit was almost enough, but she was still on that edge and she couldn’t fall over. Her head thrashed on the pillow from the sweet agony of his tongue licking and twirling mercilessly.

  And then he plunged a finger back into her.

  He worked it back and forth a few times before curling his finger and pressing on a particular spot that made her gasp. Her legs stiffened and she grabbed at his shoulders as the tension coiled tighter until it broke into waves of pleasure crashing down on her, rippling through her body.

  Afterward, he brushed the tendrils of hair off her face. “So the G-spot isn’t a myth,” he said.

  She was too boneless and satisfied to think of a comeback. She simply pulled him down to lay next to her and rested her head on his chest. He was so warm, and the steady beat of his heart was filling some empty space within her. This was just for tonight, she reminded herself. Don’t get attached.

  She pulled back. “Who knew you were such a talker in the sack?” she asked trying for nonchalant.

  “You didn’t tune out, did you?”

  No, she hadn’t. She’d been present mind, body and soul for every delicious moment.

  She looked down his body. His cock still stood at attention. “We can finish,” she said.

  “You did.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “Just a hard-on. It’s not fatal. Not everything is quid pro quo, counselor.”

  A sudden image popped into her head. Something she desperately wanted to see. Despite the oh-so-satisfying orgasm she just experienced, she felt a new tingle between her thighs. “You should take care of it.”

  He didn’t say anything, and her face flamed. She’d gone too far.

  And then his hand moved down his flat stomach. He fisted his erect cock before turning his head to seek her lips.

  She met his kiss eagerly before pulling back. “I want to watch.”

  She settled herself against him so her view was unimpeded. His strong, long fingers wrapped around the thick column of his cock. And then he began moving it, pumping his hand up and down. He wasn’t gentle with himself.

  Unbidden, her hand crept down her body to touch herself. She was wet.

  His face was tight, showing the signs of strain. It wouldn’t be long now until he came. She co
vered his hand with her own, and they worked in unison. He groaned once, twice, and then shuddered as his body contracted in a long orgasm.

  Afterward, he held her tight to his body. It felt like being in a warm, safe cocoon. She needed to pull away because post-sex cuddling led to the catching of feelings and that would be a disaster of Hindenburg proportions.

  “Stop,” he said.

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop thinking too much. Just go to sleep.” He stroked her hair gently.

  He was right. She could always kick him out in the morning. She snuggled in closer and nuzzled her cheek against his chest.

  * * *

  The buzzing of his cellphone woke Danny from a deep sleep. He rolled over to grab it off his nightstand and hit another body instead.

  Erin gave an irritated grumble and rolled over. His phone buzzed again. He found it shoved in the pocket of his jeans balled up on the floor.

  “What?”

  “Wakey wakey, Sleeping Beauty. We gotta roll,” Brian said.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Hit and run down on Newberry.”

  “That’s usually something patrol can handle.”

  “It wasn’t another car. Some jackhole ran down a crowd in front of Club Michelle. There may be casualties.”

  “Shit.”

  “No kidding. I’m almost at your place.”

  His hand tightened on the phone. “I’m not there.”

  “You little minx. Did someone get his freak on? Anyone I know?”

  “I’ll meet you there.” He hung up before Brian could get any more digs in.

  He looked back at the bed where Erin lay curled on her side, dark hair spread out across her pillow. Brian didn’t need to know about this.

  Danny wanted to tell her he had to go and kiss her goodbye. But that was boyfriend crap and he was nothing but the dirty secret. Once he walked out her door, it would be as though this night never happened. It was what she wanted. It was what he wanted too. He pulled his clothes on and left, only allowing himself the briefest of backward glances before he closed her bedroom door.

  He turned on his siren and made it the crime scene in twenty minutes by blowing through all the traffic lights. Two ambulances were on site with the EMTs treating some of the bystanders for superficial injuries.