Dirty Flirty Enemy

by Rayne, Piper

  “Maybe she only wants Carm for the summer. A summer fling,” Annie offers, but something tells me she wasn’t so casual with Enzo.

  “She’s not us.” Evie waggles her finger between her and Mae. “Bella doesn’t do unconnected sex.”

  “There’s always a first,” Mae offers, smiling at me like she understands.

  My best friend sure doesn’t.

  “Don’t worry, Evie. I won’t come crying to you should this thing go south, okay?”

  She sighs. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just—”

  “Here we come. Your big strong men with the firewood,” Carm interrupts, approaching with stacks of wood. He looks around at all of us. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m going out.” Evie storms up to the house.

  Mae’s hand is on my thigh, rubbing up and down and alerting Carm that I have something to do with Evie’s mood.

  “What happened?” Enzo asks Annie, but she shakes her head. He sits and snags another bite of her s’more, which spurs another make-out session.

  My throat locks for a moment because Evie’s right. But this time, I’m taking what I want for however long I can have it. And I want Carmelo Mancini in my bed, to hell with future heartbreak.

  “You okay?” he whispers in my ear, his finger running down my arm.

  I nod, but from the length of time he stares at me, I know he doesn’t believe me.

  * * *

  The sun streams in and a hand travels up my thigh, a big body rolling up next to me.

  “I love having you in my bed when I wake up,” Carm whispers, casting kisses along my shoulders.

  “Shit.” I bolt up, and he rolls over. “What time is it?”

  “It’s eight. I let you sleep in since we got back from the Hamptons so late last night.”

  I climb out of his bed, his white sheets pooled at the end of the mattress.

  He’s on his back, one arm draped over his forehead, while I scramble for my clothes like a trail of breadcrumbs between the door and his bed. Having to pretend nothing’s going on all weekend turned into us hungry beasts the minute he put the key in the door.

  He comes out of the bedroom fully naked. If he was trying to tease me, it’s working. “I’ll make you some coffee.”

  Grabbing my suitcase, I stop him. “I have to go. Raincheck.”

  He locks me to him with an arm around my waist, pulling me to his chest. “Tomorrow then. If I can’t spend the weekend with you, I want to negotiate a few days during the week.”

  An ounce of hope sprouts, and I push it down with a bucket of dry soil. He only wants me for the sex, I need to remember that. No, don’t listen to Evie.

  “That seems reckless,” I say, not moving away from him, allowing his now-hard length to press into my stomach.

  “Reckless because we might get an injury from overdoing it?” He chuckles, brushing my hair off my shoulder and nibbling on my collarbone.

  “No, reckless in that one of us will get attached,” I say honestly, wondering how he’ll take it.

  “Is this the whole take-me-to-dinner-first thing again?” His tongue slides up my throat and hovers over my mouth. “I’ll make reservations.”

  “No. How about some takeout tonight? I have a feeling it’s going to be a helluva day since I already feel hungover.”

  “Done.” He smacks my ass and rubs his hands over my cheek before sliding under my yoga pants. “Now come back to bed with me.”

  “I can’t.” I wiggle out of his hold. “Let’s remember I’m down by four condos. You’re about to sell out and I’m sitting at two sold.”

  He nods as though he understands and releases me. “Tonight then. Takeout naked in bed.” He points at me, heading into the kitchen.

  “Deal. Bye.”

  “Happy Monday,” he says.

  I shut the door to his condo and rest my back along the wall, sucking in a breath.

  I hate Evie right now. Why does she always have to be right?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Carm

  “I find it funny that you tagged along.” Enzo sits on the bench next to me in the antique store with a bag of popcorn he bought from a vendor down the street.

  “I find it funny that you’re doing the exact thing you stated was the sole reason for not being in a relationship. You’re spending your Saturday looking for the perfect throw pillows.” I put my hand in the bag of popcorn, but he moves it out of my grasp.

  “Those who cast stones don’t get popcorn. At least I’m doing it for love. What are you doing it for?” He waits for me to answer and glances over to where Annie and Bella have just popped out of an aisle.

  I blow out a breath and people-watch for a moment. I like Bella, and I like spending time with her, but I’m not going to admit that to my brother.

  “I just want some quality time with my older brother,” I end up saying and ruffle his hair as if he’s the youngest.

  He throws a kernel of popcorn at me. “Bullshit. We both know why you’re here.”

  “No way, Annie, they were so expensive,” I catch Bella saying. It couldn’t be a better time to interrupt me and my brother.

  “They were beautiful, and they’d look stunning on you,” Annie says, digging into Enzo’s bag of popcorn and taking a seat on his lap. She feeds him a kernel. It’s disgusting really.

  “What are we talking about?” I ask, sliding toward the PDA couple to make room for Bella.

  “There were these emerald earrings,” Annie says.

  “I don’t even think they were real,” Bella adds, shaking her head at me when I look for a reaction.

  “They made your eyes sparkle,” Annie presses.

  Bella must’ve really liked them if Annie’s still going on about them.

  I stand up from the bench, holding out my hand. “Show me.”

  “No.”

  Bella shakes her head, but I grab her hand and pull her up. She stumbles forward, but I catch her.

  “We’ll be back,” I say to Enzo and Annie.

  Annie smiles, kind of slyly, as if this is exactly how she hoped this would play out.

  We weave through some other patrons, and as we approach, the man behind the jewelry case pulls out a pair of emerald earrings. She must’ve looked very interested.

  “Carm, I’m not going to buy them,” Bella whisper-shouts.

  “May I?” I look at them then at the man.

  He nods.

  I take one out and hold it up to her ear. “Annie’s right. Your eyes pop with these.”

  She bites her lip. “And they’ll be a perfect reward when I win the Bond Street account.”

  “Let’s get them early then.” I signal to the man that we’ll be buying them.

  “No!” She puts her hand over the box, and the man looks up, apparently surprised that this beautiful woman won’t accept my gift. “Carm, we’re friends or whatever, but we are not at a place where you buy me expensive jewelry.”

  She’s right of course. I’m not even sure exactly why I want to buy her them, but I do. It feels like the right thing to do.

  “Please? I want you to have them and—”

  She presses her finger to my lips, and the man slides the box from under my palm. From my peripheral, I see him putting them back. He must be familiar with this scenario and know that I’m going to listen to her and lose this fight.

  “It’d mean a lot to me if I bought them for myself.”

  My shoulders sag, but I nod. She smiles, and to see that grin, I’d decline purchasing her a gift all over again.

  “Okay.”

  “Thank you.” She glances around, checking to make sure Enzo and Annie aren’t anywhere around, and raises on her tiptoes, replacing her finger with her lips. “I’ll let you buy me an ice cream though.”

  “Double scoop?”

  “Triple.” She winks.

  I follow her out the door of the antique store, disappointed she fought me on the purchase. I’ve never had a woman tell me no before
. And I didn’t even mind being told what to do.

  Shit, maybe Enzo has a point.

  * * *

  After a full day of shopping in the Hamptons, I’m ready for a nap, but the other three have made plans for a cook-out.

  “I’m going to make my mom’s famous chocolate chip cookies, then we’ll pair them with ice cream.” Bella places all the ingredients we bought at the store on the counter and searches for something on her phone.

  “How about I just eat you?”

  It’s been a whole day since I’ve been able to really be with her. I sneaked in some kisses and touches here and there, but Bella’s not about the PDA in front of our friends and family even though I’m pretty sure everyone has figured out what’s going on between us. Which is anybody’s guess really.

  “How about you help now and then tonight you can eat me?”

  I slide my hand up her shorts, push her underwear to the side, and hook my finger into her depths. She raises onto her tiptoes, and I swallow her surprise with a kiss. Her head falls back and circles when I add another finger.

  “Want to renegotiate?” I arch an eyebrow.

  “Do you want help with the cookies?” Annie barrels in.

  Bella pushes me off her so fast, I spin around and almost fall to the floor. “Nope. Carm is going to help me as soon as he washes his hands.”

  I take the hint and turn to the sink to do as she says, my back to them.

  “Okay, then I think I’m going to join Enzo for a short nap. I texted Mae and she said she and Evie are staying with the Brits. And Dom? Who knows?” I hear the annoyance in Annie’s tone. She doesn’t like to be out of the loop, and whatever or whoever Dom’s doing while he’s in the Hamptons, he’s not telling a soul.

  “Sounds good,” Bella says.

  Annie disappears and I dry my hands, coming up behind Bella at the counter.

  “What do you need me to do?” I unbutton her shorts and lower the zipper.

  “Carm,” she sighs. Not a great plan on her part because she should know that when she says my name like that, I’m instantly hard. “Hands to yourself.” She smacks my hands but turns around. “Let me teach you how to make these, then maybe you’ll get lucky and can give me a massage.”

  “What about you giving me a massage?”

  She’s adding ingredients into a big bowl and hands me the wooden spoon. “You can do the muscle work.”

  “I do like to use my muscles. One in particular.”

  She hip-checks me and dumps a big pile of flour in with the butter, sugar, and eggs. “Do you ever cook or bake?”

  “Not really. Ma really took care of all that when I was growing up, but now we all find somewhere to help in the kitchen during our Sunday dinners. Annie’s influence.” I mix the flour, my forearms straining as she continues to toss in other ingredients.

  “What’s it like to have such a big family?”

  She dumps chocolate chips into a measuring cup, and I laugh. I would’ve put the entire bag in there with the excuse that there’s no such thing as too much chocolate. But Bella, she’s precise, even in her baking. Maybe that’s why her demeanor in the bedroom surprised me so much. She’s not rigid or traditional. She’s wild and exploratory.

  “It’s annoying as all hell, but awesome at the same time. When my cousins get together with us, it’s a killer Thanksgiving football game. Poor Blanca’s the only girl, but she learned quick that if she wanted in, she had to be tough. I hate to admit this, but it’s nice coming to the Hamptons and having a break from Sunday dinners.”

  “Why?” She drops the chocolate chips into the bowl, and I pick one out and put it on my tongue. She says nothing.

  “Because I’m Italian and male and twenty-eight, which means a lot of pressure to bring someone home. You’d have thought Annie was the Queen of England when Enzo brought her into the fold. Everyone thinks Dom might be gay because he’s the oldest and still single. I have some time to relax now with Enzo and Annie being what they are, but they’ll be bugging me again soon.” I push the bowl away, and she digs out a spoonful of batter and slides it into her mouth. “What are you doing?”

  “Tasting the goods.” She swallows. “It tastes just like my mom’s.”

  I swipe my finger in the bowl and suck it. She watches me.

  “Want some?” I ask, ready for a reenactment of 9 1/2 Weeks food scene.

  “Sure.”

  See, this is why she keeps me on my toes. I have full faith in myself that I could get her stripped down on this counter with my head between her legs if I wanted.

  “Finger or spoon?” I hold up both.

  She takes control of my hand, dips it into the batter, and pulls it toward her, then she swirls her tongue around my finger until it’s clean.

  “And I’m hard,” I say.

  She laughs. “Okay, let’s get these baked and cooling. Then we can go take a nap of our own.” She winks and I capture her lips with mine. She doesn’t push away or argue.

  She scoops them out onto a cookie sheet, and I put them in the oven and set the timer.

  “Do you have other family besides your mom?” I ask.

  “No. She was an only child, and although my dad had three siblings, they’re spread out, so for holidays, it was always my mom, me, and her latest boyfriend. One year I had to go over to her boyfriend’s family home and his ex-wife showed up. We found them in the closet between the meal and dessert. Good times.”

  “Wow, that’s crazy.” My chest constricts when I think of a young Bella witnessing something like that. “Have you heard from your mom since she and Greg returned to Florida?”

  It’s really none of my business. Greg’s reputation in Manhattan is somewhat similar to my own. Playboy, bachelor for life, etc. Just on a much larger scale. He goes to Fashion Week with a model on his arm, movie premieres with actresses, and Broadway shows with Tony winners. But after witnessing what happened with my brother, I’m not naïve enough to think that a woman can’t change a man anymore.

  “A little. They seem good, but he’s a charmer, which my mom falls for every time. I always cross my fingers for her, but sadly, she can’t find her second love.”

  “Second love?” I lean back against the counter with my arms crossed.

  “My dad was her first love.” Her eyes light up for the first time during this conversation, and it reminds me of the sparkle in those earrings she liked. “Sometimes I wonder if people even fall in love like that anymore. Or if I was young and delusional because they were my parents. Or maybe I just remember what a great man he was because he died so young. You know how when people die, they say you only remember the good?” She busies her finger tracing the lines of the granite.

  “How old were you?”

  “Six.”

  Shit, that had to have sucked. Her mom seems so well-adjusted though. I think my mom would permanently grieve my dad if something happened. When my dad’s sister remarried after losing her husband, Ma told me she saw it as dishonoring his memory. She’s old school.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, and it feels like not enough.

  She shrugs. “It’s been decades. I’m over the loss. I just hope my mom finds whatever she’s looking for.” She sets her gaze on me. “Tell me, do you think a playboy can really change?”

  My gut constricts and my throat dries. Way to put me on the spot. As I stare into her beautiful face and study her for a moment—those emerald eyes and flushed cheeks from a morning spent in the sun, the braid coming around her shoulder and falling against her freckled skin—all of that makes it so that I can only answer honestly.

  “Yeah, I think they can.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Bella

  I run into Carm’s condo building, dodging the rain. It feels more like spring today than summer.

  “Miss Scott, Mr. Mancini is expecting you.” The doorman presses the up button on the elevator for me.

  “Thank you.” I slide in and he reaches in, pressing Carm’s floor number. />
  “Enjoy your evening,” he says as the door slides closed.

  On the way up, I debate if I’m spending too much time here. I mean, he rarely comes to my place, but we’re usually together a few times a week now. Plus our time in the Hamptons. It’s all becoming a cozy routine, which I don’t mind, but Evie’s words about what exactly we are to one another and whether I’m settling stick in my head.

  I step off the elevator and there’s Carm in the open door of his condo, in his slacks with bare feet, his button-down untucked as he waits for me. The first time I saw him like this, I tackled him, and we had sex before dinner. It’s becoming normal, like I expect to see him like this when I step off the elevator.

  “Hey, beautiful, you kept me waiting.” His perfect white teeth snap down on something green, which, as I grow closer, I realize is a snap pea. He offers me the other half, and since I’m running on a half sandwich and a pickle, I welcome it. Carm drops it on my tongue and kisses me on my neck. “I should punish you.”

  “I totally think you should.” I giggle and slide around him into his condo.

  “Is that your sly way of telling me you’d like me to be rougher in the bedroom?” He walks into his open concept kitchen and stirs whatever is in the pan.

  I stop short. “Did you cook for me?”

  “You answer my question first.” He glances over his shoulder.

  “I wouldn’t be opposed to some ass slapping or tying me up.” I blush just thinking about it as I slide out of my heels and unzip my skirt. “I gotta change. I’ll be back.”

  I head down the hall to his bedroom and strip out of my office suit then into a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt I keep here now. I leave the room, pulling my hair into a messy bun, and stop in my tracks—again—seeing him plate our meal.

  “Did you really cook?” I ask.

  He looks up and smirks. “It’s one of the fresh meal kits. All I really had to do was put it in a pan and heat up the rice, but it’s a meal.” He shrugs as though it’s no big deal.