Enemies

“Your friends are just great.”

Stone greeted me with that biting comment as I slid into the passenger seat, shutting the door. I knew what he saw. He knew I knew what he saw. There was no point in arguing. I just sat back and held my bag on my lap. “I told you before, I didn’t know anyone before I moved down here.”

A few of them were sitting on the steps outside, pretending to talk, but mostly still watching Stone. They waved as Stone pulled from the curb.

“Yeah.” His hand flexed over the steering wheel. “Let’s talk about that.”

Which was code where he said the command and I was expected to confess everything.

Fuck that. I wasn’t his bitch. I looked out the window instead.

“Dusty.” A low growl from him.

A snap back from me, “Stone.”

A second growl. “I care. Fucking hell. I care, okay? I wouldn’t be doing any of this shit if I didn’t still care about you. Those people didn’t give a fuck about you, except the one girl. Not a goddamn one of them, and you’re asking me to look away from that? I can’t. Me being a guy and caring about a girl, I can’t do that. It’s not how I was raised.”

He cared?

I couldn’t.

That statement was swimming around in my head, but I couldn’t. Not right now.

I focused on what I could process. “There’s a big fucking debate that could be had for your last statement, so I’m not sure I’d be all high and mighty over that comment.”

“I am trying to make up for that.”

Low and quiet and controlled by him. I’d pushed a button and he was reacting, but he was trying to contain it. And I knew that was just another extension of the whole ‘I’m trying to make up for that’ part.

But still.

I wanted to clip out, wanted to throw it in his face by saying, ‘Do better.’

I didn’t, but I wanted to. “A movie. A blanket. We shared snacks. Then the next day, I was a stranger to you.”

He sighed, his shoulders falling down. “Dusty.”

“That was years ago.” It was pent-up, and I had to get this out. “You were my best friend growing up. I loved your dog like he was mine. I know you were hurt when you walked away from me. I know you missed my mom, but since then, during those years, I lost my best friend. I lost my mom. I lost my childhood home.” I had to skip a beat. He didn’t need to know what else I lost before coming here. “And I have now lost my father, my stepmother, my car, and the second home that was never really a home to me. But I got you back? Is that the takeaway for me? The consolation prize?”

He cursed silently under his breath, hitting the turn signal and easing onto the interstate ramp.

“I would give you up in a heartbeat to get them back.”

Still, he remained silent. A beat. Then, “So would I.”

Oh. Damn.

Damn!

That broke the wall. I felt it crack in two, heard it even, and everything I’d been stuffing away and suppressing, I had a second’s notice before I turned to him. I knew the tears were already shining in my eyes.

He saw, and his jaw firmed as he reached over for my hand. He kept a death grip on me. “Just let it out. You have to let it out.”

The hole inside me was there. His words, my words, had punched a fucking fist through it and I felt as if the roof was caving in. The entire building in me was crashing. I was demolished inside and I’d been holding onto a thin fucking frame to keep me upright. That was gone now, and I was crumbling.

No. It was worse than that.

I couldn’t keep it together.

“Stone.”

His hand tightened on mine. “Just hold on. I promise.”

I tried. I did. I was failing.

But then we were pausing. The gate was opening. And we pulled into his garage.

I didn’t have to think about moving. Stone was out of his door and mine was thrown open in a flash. His arms went under me, and he scooped me out. Cradled to his chest, he maneuvered us through the house. Me, I was useless. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t hear what he was doing until we were in a room, on a bed.

A phone was ringing.

It was silenced.

He moved us both back so he was sitting against the headboard. It was similar to the other night, but this time, crying wasn’t enough. My insides were being ripped out. One organ at a time. One tendon being slowly pulled from inside, shredding and being dropped on the floor.

I couldn’t handle it.

My dad.

Gail.

All her texts. Her calls. She just wanted to be helpful and I thought she’d been annoying, and now there’d be no more calls. No more texts.

God.

I couldn’t… I screamed, the sobs choking me.

A rough hand brushed down my face and I felt Stone’s forehead to mine. “What do you need? What do you need right now?” He was breathing so hard. “Dusty. Please. I can’t take hearing this from you. What do you need?”

Need?

Not to feel.

I couldn’t think. Feel. I couldn’t live. I didn’t want to live. I needed to go, but I didn’t dare say those words. Another scream came out, tearing out of me of its own volition.

I couldn’t handle any of this. It was too much.

“Stone,” I was sobbing, my hand on his chest. “Stone. I can’t!”

I was clawing at his chest.

An invisible hand took a knife and was sheathing at my skin, but it wasn’t working. It wasn’t a clean cut. And that hand just kept going, digging in, trying to tear me open, and the more it wasn’t working, the harder that hand was stabbing me. Twisting.

I was being tortured.

He adjusted me, throwing me up in his arms. A firm arm clamped around my back and his other hand was behind my head. “Dusty. What. Do. You. Need?!”

Finally. His words pierced through and I opened my eyes, to see his. They were wild. He was almost manic, desperate, but the hunger. I saw it in there. It was covered by something else, fear, maybe? Horror, more likely.

His hand dropped to my hip and he was kneading into my skin.

That other hand, the invisible hand, was trying to pry me open. I felt every inch, centimeter, millimeter, and I couldn’t live through this.

I just knew it.

I gasped out, “Please. I can’t feel. Not this.”

“What do you want?” He was almost shaking me from the force of his own need. Savage. His eyes were filling with rage, but he was blanketing it. He was containing it. “Drugs? Alcohol? What do you need from me?”

I stopped just as the invisible hand opened me enough and was reaching in, all over again.

“I can’t feel what I’m feeling—”

His mouth was on mine.

Hot. Hungry. Angry.

I gasped, and everything stilled. The world paused and I sat back, dragging in oxygen. A moment of peace, but the hand was coming back for more destruction. I could feel its impending reach and I acted, not thinking. I couldn’t do that either, and I almost launched myself at him.

My mouth was on his. Desperate and starving.

He paused, pulling back. “Are you sure about this?”

I crawled up on his lap, my hands going right to his pants and I was frenzied in my movements. That was my response, and he took it as such. His arms swept me up again, he rolled us so he was on top and he paused above me, his eyes on mine.

Blind desire was in there, and I closed my eyes, my mouth searching for his again.

This wasn’t gentle. This wasn’t romantic. This was an escape and it was ugly and ragged. We were animalistic. There was no foreplay. God. I couldn’t have handled that type of touch right now.

I wanted rough. Hard. Almost punishing.

He sat up, his eyes stormy and wild on me, and his hands finished undoing his pants.

I raced him.

I unzipped my pants, lifting my hips and shoving them down. My underwear, too. He leaned down, his hand coming to my thigh, and he helped me pull the rest free. He jumped off the bed, tossing both our pants to the ground, and he went to his nightstand. A condom was pulled out, then he was back.

I didn’t give a fuck if both our shirts were still on.

That wasn’t the goddamn point of this, but he was back. Condom on. And I reached down to wrap my hand around his dick. He was big and hard, and exactly what I needed to make me not feel. I guided him, almost like his cock was my personal dildo. I caught his grin, but I didn’t give a fuck about that either. I was in control of this situation and he was giving me that.

Then, poised at my entrance, we both paused.

His eyes went to mine again. I bit my lip, and he sheathed himself inside.

I lifted, and he pushed, going even deeper, all the way in. Then his body enveloped me. My arms were around him. His around me, his hands sliding down to cup my ass and he lifted me up to him for better access.

Then, so fucking amazingly then, he began to move. And I felt it all. Every movement he made. Everything that I didn’t want to feel was gone, suffocated by the enormity of him.

I cried out from the sensations. That peace, it was back. It fell on me, replacing the storm inside me, and I would literally come apart if he pulled away and stopped touching me, but then he began to move harder and faster.

His hand came up, grabbing my hair, and he yanked.

My eyes opened. His face was right there. I should’ve felt his breath, but he was watching me. His hips surged against mine again. So fucking forceful. So wild and out of control. Exactly like how I needed this to be.

“What do you want?”

I knew what he was asking.

“I need you to fuck me.”

His eyes shuddered, but I wasn’t done.

I added, “I need you to do it again, and again, and again. You got me?” My words were clipped and to the point. I wanted to pass out from fucking, not from the agony I knew was just waiting to claim me again. This was a Band-Aid. My wounds wouldn’t be repaired by a simple fix. He knew that and I knew that, and then he nodded, and we were both agreeing to whatever it was that we were doing right now.

His mouth caught mine again. I allowed it. The sensations were hurtling through me and his tongue in my mouth was helping, but I reached down, took hold of his hips, and I reared to go back against him.

We fucked that night.

There were no nice words. No loving touches.

After the first round, he lay still inside of me. We didn’t have to wait long. I waited. He waited. Maybe it was minutes. Maybe it was longer. I was a complete vacuum of nothing until I felt him start to harden again.

I looked at him. He looked up.

Silently, he pulled out. The used condom was thrown in the trash and a new one was put on. He climbed back over me. Seeing the bruises again, I reached for one on his side.

He knocked my hand away.

He was right. I saw the reminder in his gaze.

This wasn’t a nice touch kind of night.

His eyes were hard. Well, good. I just hardened everything in me again, and he reached for me, taking my hips and he flipped me over so I was on my hands and knees.

Still no sound. No gasp of surprise from me.

We were almost in a battle now, whoever made the first sound lost, and his hand was rough running down my back. He lined up behind me, and I had a second’s notice as his hand spread, his palm flat on me, and he thrust inside.

My head went down.

I would’ve moaned from the pleasure, but I couldn’t make a sound. Not a goddamn sound. This was the lingering element of hatred still between us. Maybe things had thawed. He’d been there for me. He was still there for me, literally right now, but underneath those layers, there was a level of loathing between us that neither of us could see fit to let go.

I didn’t know if that’d ever change, but it was there, and I needed it. It gave me a sense of familiarity.

As he rammed back in me, I pushed upright.

Oh no. He wasn’t going to punish me that way. I wanted it. I yearned for it. I would probably ask for it, but I was going with him. This was a joint venture, and he wrapped a hand around my waist, his face falling to my shoulder. I felt his teeth scrape against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine, as he kept moving in and out of me.

I reached back, my hand on his hip, and I moved with him.

Our bodies were sensuously rolling as we both knelt upright. I kept up as long as I could until the climax was building, and I fell forward. His arm caught me, holding me so I didn’t fall completely down. I pushed up on my hands, on all fours, and I heard a smothered grunt from him.

His hand went to my ass, flexing. He smacked me.

Had he… I twisted around. Those eyes were waiting for me, boring into me, and there was a hint of amusement, but then he hit me again and I almost cursed at him. Now he grinned, just slightly, before he paused, holding both my hips, and he pushed in once more, all the way inside. He held still, rotating around, rubbing everywhere before thrusting slowly back.

I broke. I lost the battle and voiced my pleasure. “Ah!”

A guttural gasp came from me, and my knees shook. My arms gave out. I fell to the bed, but he came with me. A hand on the headboard above me, he began pistoning inside of me, as this round was all about him.

He wasn’t giving it to me for me anymore. This was all him. Animals. Both of us.

He came with a roar the same time I did, and he fell down on me. Both of our bodies were shuddering.

I needed a breather, and judging by his panting, he did, too. Still. He lay over me, a hand skimming down my back, curving over my ass. But then he growled, and he was pushing my shirt off me. Yes. That was a splendid idea.

He slipped out and lifted up. I rolled to my back, pulling my shirt up and off me. My bra was next, and I didn’t have to say anything. His shirt was off and he came back down. Nope. He changed his mind. Getting up, padding barefoot to his bathroom, and then he was pissing.

The toilet was flushed.

The water ran again. He was washing his hands. And he came back, no shame.

There was none with me, either, not this day, this moment.

His eyes found mine, and he stood over the bed, just studying me as I returned the favor. His eyes almost caressed my body, running over me. Those shoulders. So sculpted and cut. His chest. His stomach. His hips. The V that ran down his stomach and past his groin, it was begging me to touch.

So I did.

Sitting up, I scooted to the edge of the bed, trailing my hand down his muscle.

He moved into me and I glanced up. His eyes were hooded, darkening the more I touched him. He was enjoying this, and knowing what he really wanted, I found him again. My hand circled around him, a good, firm grip, and then I began to stroke him.

He groaned.

I kept stroking.

Another groan, those eyes were almost messy from his pleasure.

I loved it.

And I loved not feeling what I’d been feeling before. Those emotions were pushed aside, and stomped down. They were so far down, I knew I had tonight to bask and take refuge in this momentary shelter, and because I just wanted more of him, I bent down and took him in my mouth.

“Shit,” a silent hiss from him. His hands grasped the side of my head, his fingers tangling with my hair.

I took him in deep, sucking on him.

“Oh, fuck.”

I kept sucking on him until he began to move in my mouth.

No. This wasn’t enough. The angle needed to be better. I withdrew, got up, and shoved him down. Then I was kneeling between his knees, and my mouth was back on him. I didn’t look at him to see what he was thinking. I didn’t care, but I knew his body was loving my mouth on him.

I opened my throat even wider as he began moving in my mouth, and rising for the best angle, he held my head still as he thrust inside, and our eyes met, held while he continued what he was doing. A full body shiver wracked through me, and I swear it made him come, because he exploded then.

I paused, catching his semen.

He pulled out and shook his head. “Don’t swallow that.”

Yeah. Fine with me. I was the one padding to his bathroom now. I spat it out, then washed my mouth out, and I stared at myself for a second.

My hair was a mess. My eyes were red-rimmed from the earlier sobbing.

I hadn’t worn makeup in days, so my face was just splotchy from the sex and the shit-show before that, but I took note of the rest of my body. I’d gotten thinner since coming here. I hadn’t thought that was possible, but I knew I’d lost weight from what had happened before, but no. What was I thinking—my dad, Gail—a sob slipped out before I knew what I was feeling.

But he was there, his hand on my side.

I looked up, almost panicked. I thought I had a night before those feelings would come back. But I started thinking, and that was all I needed. They were unleashed, swimming to the surface at a surprising speed. As if knowing what was going on inside of me, Stone’s eyes darkened, holding mine in the mirror.

He stepped up behind me, a firm hand running down my back. He fitted himself there so I felt every inch of him, and his mouth lowered to my shoulder. His eyes were still holding mine captive and I watched, a prisoner, but wanting to surrender to him, needing him to take over, and I was transfixed as his teeth scraped over my skin again.

I gasped, arching my back. A searing spliced through me, almost making me jerk upright in his arms until his hand slid around to my front. His palm was heavy on my stomach. His fingers spread out, and those eyes still watching me watch him, he moved his hand up, up, up, and it encircled one of my breasts.

Then he nipped at my shoulder again, moving to my neck. He ran his teeth over me, lingering where my artery was, but he only swirled his tongue there, and I moaned this time.

I gave in. He won this round.

His eyes flared. Victory surged in him.

He was plastered to me, so I knew he was hard again, but he was bare. He paused, his eyes on mine. “The condoms are all the way in the room. Are you—?”

I shook my head. No. I didn’t tell him that I hadn’t needed to use birth control for the last year. I hadn’t had a period, but he only nodded and he stepped away.

I held myself where he left me, exactly, and I even placed both hands against the mirror in anticipation.

I wanted to watch us. That’s what he wanted too, then he was back. He was rolling the condom on, and he saw I was still in the same position. His mouth tugged up in approval, but he stepped up behind me, and there was no warning this time.

He was in, pushing, thrusting, and I was pushing back from the mirror just as hard.

He rode me. I rode him.

It was exactly what I asked from him, and through the rest of the night, he gave it to me. Over and over again. There was a break where his phone wouldn’t stop ringing, so after we’d finished that round, he stepped out from the room to take the call.

I lay there, eyes open, staring at the ceiling, and I didn’t move an inch. I was naked. I hadn’t pulled the sheet over me, and he returned sometime later. I made sure I wasn’t thinking when he left, so I didn’t know how long he’d been. Could’ve been seconds, minutes, or a full hour. I had no clue and I wanted it that way.

Then he was back, falling on top of me, again, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him, knowing he’d make me feel other sensations in a moment. And, as he slid inside me once more, he did just that.