Enemy Within (Unseen Enemy Book 1)

by Marysol James

  In his bedroom, he undressed her slowly, his hands running over her bruised side. He knelt down and gently placed his lips on her hip, his tongue skimming the darkened flesh.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked her.

  “No,” she said. “Not at all.”

  He stood again, cupping her sex. She gave a cry and pressed against his large hand. He felt her arousal pooling in his palm, and he started to rub her clit gently, watching her face for her reaction.

  She reached for him, yanked his jeans off. His cock was huge and hard and she lowered his boxers to reveal it. She stared at it, her whole body yearning to have it inside her, plugging her, fucking her. He saw her desire and lifted her to her feet again.

  “We’re going to be more careful this time, honey,” he said. “No more bruises. OK?’

  “OK.”

  He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled her on to him. He spread her legs, rested her across his massive thighs, her feet on the floor. Her hot centre pushed down on his hardness and they both groaned.

  “Dean,” she said, her voice rough and low. “Dean, I can’t wait. Please, fuck me. Fuck me now.”

  The dirty language coming from that sweet mouth turned him on more than he thought possible and with a strangled groan, he grabbed the condom. As soon as it was on, she lifted her hips and slid down on him, taking him all the way inside her all at once and without a word. He gripped her ass and threw his head back, his eyes closed tight at the feeling of being sheathed fully in that clutching, pulsing heat. He shook with the effort not to come right away, but it was damn difficult.

  Emma felt his hard length nudging deep inside her. She was completely filled by him, her aching pussy stretched and pulled over every inch of his cock. She buried her face in his chest, held on to his shoulders.

  His hands on her ass and back were demanding now, and she began to roll her hips, alternating slow circles and deep plunges, working his body with her own, relishing having this man quivering under her. His breath was hot, hoarse, and his thrusts were rough and urgent. She moved on him again and again, loving how it felt to have this strong man completely under her power, at her mercy. She watched his face as his rapture grew, amazed at how much it turned her on to pleasure him. Emma felt his arm and back muscles tense and release with his crazed desire to come and his wordless need ignited her own.

  “Dean,” she whispered.

  His eyes opened and met hers. The heat and lust burning in those green depths sparked a response in her and she started to come.

  “Come for me, Dean.” She tightened her pussy muscles, flexed and released them on his throbbing cock. “I want to see you come. Now, babe.”

  At her words, he gave a long moan and exploded. The force of it pushed her up and off the bed; her feet left the floor. He lengthened inside her, pushed her sweet spot and her own release tore through her. They clutched each other, crying out and shaking, their hot bodies straining and reaching, wanting the feelings to go on and on. They collapsed on one another, panting, heartbeats thundering.

  Holding her as close as possible, Dean tried to slow down his breathing, his whole body still tense from his orgasm. Never in his life had he experienced anything like that. He felt shaky and almost teary and he buried his face in her shoulder. Emma stroked the back of his neck, pulled him tighter, felt him start to relax under her.

  When he was able to speak again, Dean pulled back and ran his hands through her tangled hair. “Jesus Christ, Emma. Where did a nice girl learn those moves? And where’d the dirty mouth come from all of a sudden?”

  Her beautiful eyes were bright. “You liked it?”

  “Fuck, yeah. I loved it.” He took a deep breath and touched her face. “You OK?”

  “Yep.” She kissed him softly, ran her tongue along his lower lip. “Better than OK. I’m good.”

  “You sure as hell are, angel.” He kissed her back, sweetly exhausted. “You sure are.”

  **

  The next morning, Dean woke up at six o’clock, right on the dot. Years of military training had completely fucked up his internal clock, and he couldn’t sleep later than six, no matter how tired he was, or where he was, or what time he went to bed. It was better than a year before, though, when he had been awake at four every morning. For him, six a.m. was decadent sleeping in. He knew the boys were the same – if he called any of them right now, they’d be wide awake already.

  He studied Emma’s face in the sunrise. She looked a bit pale, and she had shadows under her eyes. Well, he hadn’t let her drop off until after midnight, so she probably needed some more sleep.

  Dean closed his eyes again, letting his body relax back in to a light doze. When he opened them again, it was almost eight o’clock and Emma was still out. She was breathing softly, her hands clutching the bedsheets to those creamy breasts. He smiled and carefully climbed out of bed, trying not to wake her.

  He grabbed a fresh pair of boxers from his closet and headed in to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror and was surprised to see that he looked well-rested and relaxed. Apparently Emma had a positive effect on him in more ways than one.

  In the kitchen he started the coffee and opened the front door to let in the morning breeze. It was a mild May, and the summer promised to be a hot one. And with Emma in the picture, it was sure to be sultry and steamy, too.

  He heard a noise outside and he grinned. He poured a coffee and stepped out on the porch, looked to his right. Sure enough, Dallas was over there on his front porch, staring at the Rocky Mountains in the distance. In his hand he held what was probably his fifth coffee of the day.

  “Mornin’,” Dallas said. “How you doing?”

  “Good. You?”

  “Huh. Not bad.” He cocked his dark head. “So. She sneak out again this morning?”

  Dean sipped his own coffee. “Nope. That’s one of the things we agreed on, remember? No sneaking out.”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

  “She’s still sleeping.”

  “Uh-huh. Poor little thing all tuckered out?”

  “Shut it, Foreman,” Dean said. “I’m serious, now.”

  “What?”

  Dean stared over at him, kept his voice pitched low. “Enough with the wisecracks, OK? Emma is not some meaningless fuck, you get me? She’s not my girlfriend and never will be, but she’s more than some random chick from Shooter’s. I don’t want you making fun of her. She doesn’t deserve that.”

  Dallas blinked, astonished. If Dean had suddenly sprouted a second head, he couldn’t have been more shocked.

  “Hey, man. I’m sorry. I didn’t – I’m not trying to insult her, I swear. I’m just… making conversation. The way we always do after we bring chicks home.”

  “Yeah, I know what you’re doing. But Emma isn’t some chick I brought home to get laid – I invited her here to spend the night. Big difference.”

  “Yeah.” Dallas was still staring. “Yeah, of course it is. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”

  “OK. Let’s forget it.”

  “So.” Dallas cleared his throat. “You working today?”

  “Nah. I took the day off after Emma said she’d stay over last night. Jim wanted the extra hours, and I didn’t want to kick her out early.” A movement caught his eye and he turned to look in to the house. Emma was standing there in his t-shirt from last night, her hair tousled, her eyes clear and warm.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hey,” Dean replied. “You want some coffee?”

  “Yeah, please.”

  “OK, one sec. I’ll be right in.” He turned back to Dallas. “See you later, man.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Dallas watched Dean go in to the house and shut the door behind him. Puzzled, he sat back down and stared out at the street, thinking about Dean’s anger at Dallas’ careless words, and he knew good
and well that whatever his friend said, that little brunette wasn’t some casual fling. Maybe Dean didn’t know it yet, but it was damn clear to Dallas that Emma was something special.

  Goddammit, Dean. Careful, man.

  Inside the house, Dean was pulling Emma close to his bare chest, running his hands over her naked ass. She moaned and reached up for a kiss. His hands moved around to the front of her body and his hand touched lightly between her legs.

  “So,” he said. “Coffee now? Or coffee later?”

  His large finger slid between her folds, stroking her heat. She closed her eyes.

  “Don’t you have to go to work today?” Her voice was tight.

  “Nope.” He pushed in to her slick channel. “Day off.”

  Her eyes opened. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Sometimes it’s good to be the boss.”

  Carefully, he pushed her down on to the sofa and spread her legs. Slowly, making sure she knew what he was going to do to her, he mouthed a gentle kiss on her taut bud. She arched and opened herself to his mouth, already dripping wet and aching to come.

  “Later,” Emma said. “Definitely, coffee later.”

  Dean growled and lowered his head to her.

  Chapter Six

  Emma closed her eyes as another wave of nausea shook her. She pulled her knees in tight to her chest and tried to remember to breathe.

  “Em?” Kat was in her bedroom doorway. “You need anything?”

  Emma held out her hand and Kat came in right away. She sat down next to Emma’s bed, clutching her hand.

  “It’s OK, Em. I’m right here.”

  Emma nodded. “Talk to me.”

  “Alright.” Kat stroked Emma’s sweaty hair back from her forehead. “So, I was at the hair salon yesterday, and Terrance came in an hour late. When Benny started shouting at him, Terrance went berserk. Like, we always knew the guy was wound up tight, right, but he lost it.”

  “What did he do?” Emma asked.

  “Started throwing around everything he could get his hands on… products and equipment, hair clips and shampoo bottles. Like, everything. He grabbed the hairdryer right out of my hand and threw it the length of the salon. The thing was, I was using it to dry a customer’s hair at the time, and it was roaring hot. He had to go to the hospital for second-degree burns on his hands.”

  Emma laughed, then grimaced.

  Kat saw the look on her face and reached for the bucket next to the bed; she got it in front of Emma’s mouth just in time. Emma vomited violently, then again. Kat sponged her burning face with cool water and gave her some ice chips to suck on. When Emma started to sob, Kat held her close and rocked her back and forth. There was nothing else to be done for Emma, so Kat did what she could.

  Later, when Emma was finally sleeping, Kat called Liv.

  “How is she?” Liv said.

  “Way worse this time.” Kat glanced at the bedroom door. “Really sick, Liv. She’s been throwing up all day.”

  Liv swore. “The round last time wasn’t anywhere near this bad.”

  “Yeah, well, this chemo cycle is much more aggressive. We knew that.”

  “Yeah.” Liv took a deep breath. “This damn photo shoot is almost done, and thank Christ for that. I’ll be back tomorrow morning, OK? I’ll take over for the rest of weekend and you can go home and get some rest.”

  “No problem.” Kat rubbed her eyes. “Get here when you can.”

  **

  Dean looked around The Cave, barely noticing the women gyrating on the dance floor or leaning up against the bar. He almost sighed aloud from sheer boredom.

  “Hey, Dean? You alright, man?” Chris handed him a beer.

  He looked at Chris. “Yeah. Fine. Thanks.”

  “You’re not in to it, are you?” Chris asked the question so quietly, Dean barely heard him over the music.

  “No. Not really.”

  “Where’s Emma tonight?” Jim said.

  Dean scowled. “Why?”

  Jim put his hands up in the international ‘I come in peace’ sign. “I’m just asking. No snark, I swear.”

  Dean ran his hands through his hair. “Sorry. I’m just – I don’t know.” He sighed. “Anyway, she’s traveling this whole week. New York, mostly.”

  “Again?” Dallas said. “Wasn’t she in LA last month for a week?”

  “Yeah.” Dean drank his beer. “Her job is pretty full-on.”

  “So – you’re free tonight?” Chris asked tentatively. “Like, free and clear to pick up anyone you want? Emma said no problem with that, right?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, she did.”

  Dallas drank, his eyes on Dean. “You don’t look all that interested, man.”

  “I’m not, really.”

  The men exchanged glances and Dean caught them.

  “OK, what?” he said. “You think I’m getting too serious about Emma?”

  “We have no idea.” Chris shook his head. “Are you?”

  “Fuck no.” Dean drank some more beer. “It’s just – I’m not interested in picking someone else up even if Emma says it’s cool.”

  “Like, you feel as if you’re cheating on her or something?” Jim asked.

  “No. Not cheating, because she said it’s fine and besides, we aren’t together. More like, I’m not all that in to the whole process of picking someone new up. The come-ons and the bullshit small-talk. Then having to get her to my place, then trying to figure out her body. Then getting her the hell out in the morning as quick as possible and trying not to hurt her feelings. It’s all just so much work and so fucking boring.” He looked at them. “You know?”

  They stared at him.

  He sighed again. “I don’t know, guys. Maybe I’m just done with this, for now. I think I’m at the point that even if Emma wasn’t around, I’d still be done.”

  “You think?” Dallas said.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Dean stared around the bar, and all he saw was what he had been looking at every single weekend for the past two years. “I think I’m done.”

  **

  Emma drove to Dean’s house a few days later, still feeling tired from the most recent cycle of chemo. After the last round three weeks earlier, she thought she had seen the worst that it could get, but she had been way wrong. And according to Dr. Fife, the round in two weeks would be worse again. She was exhausted just thinking about it.

  Despite her body’s tiredness, she longed to see Dean. She needed a break from cancer, needed to be where things were simple and clear. Dean was about feeling good, about comfort and strength, about sleeping soundly in his arms.

  God knows, I need all those things right now.

  She got to his house and climbed out of her car slowly. She grabbed her overnight bag from the passenger side seat and slammed the door.

  “Hey, Emma.”

  She looked at Dallas’ front porch to see the guys kicking back and having a beer. They looked so achingly healthy and gorgeous – four strong men in prime physical condition, muscled and sun-bronzed – that she almost burst in to tears.

  Dean got to his feet, alarmed at her appearance. The guys saw it, too: he heard Dallas’ sharp intake of breath, Chris and Jim froze for a few seconds. Emma looked awful, she looked really ill. She was deathly pale and had dark smudges under those amazing eyes. She had definitely lost some more weight, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

  He came down the steps, took her bag from her hand. Not caring that the guys were watching, he gently touched her face. “You OK, baby?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled at him, that sweet, beautiful smile, and he relaxed a bit. “Just tired.”

  “Rough week?”

  “Yeah. Sure was.”

  “OK, come on. You want a beer?”

  “God, I’d love one.”

  They cl
imbed up on Dallas’ front porch and all three guys jumped to their feet to offer her their chairs. She immediately felt better. She knew that nobody here would have any articles on AML for her to read, or exhort her to keep thinking positive. These guys would ply her with beer and then send her off to have sex. Perfect.

  She had come to know them over the past couple of months, since it seemed that Dallas’ place was some kind of unofficial club house. Jim and Chris spent lots of time hanging out on the front porch, drinking beer and enjoying the blazing summer heat, talking about nothing much, or not talking at all.

  Secretly, she was fascinated by the guys, by their clear-yet-unspoken bond. Emma had been able to piece together quite a bit of their backstory, since she had discovered that Chris was most chatty in the kitchen, Jim relaxed best on the porch, Dallas actually dropped his joking tone if she had a morning coffee alone with him, and Dean was strangely and sweetly open and vulnerable after sex.

  She knew that Dallas was a kind of odd-man-out, in that he hadn’t been a Ranger with the other guys, but he did have some kind of specialized skill that had brought him in to their unit often. If she had to guess, and based on his unflinching powers of observation and his amazing ability to sit still and silent for long periods of time, she’d say that he had been a sniper. But she wasn’t about to ask. She wasn’t going to ask any of them anything about their time in Afghanistan. She knew that none of them were anywhere near over what they had done or seen, and she wasn’t about to open that box of nightmares.

  So here she sat on Dallas’ porch, her body unwinding and letting go of her tension. The guys were all looking at her, watching her relax. When she settled a bit deeper in to the chair, Dallas decided to tease her a bit, just to test the waters.

  “So, darlin’. How was your trip with my favorite redhead?”

  Emma grinned at Dallas. “It was OK. Wait ‘til you see the pictures for the new perfume campaign this winter.”

  Dallas leaned forward. “Tell me.”

  “I can’t. I signed a confidentiality agreement. But Olivia? Looks amazing.”