Page 30 of Enemy Dearest

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“Not at all.”

“Maybe not for you. You have go-anywhere-in-the-world money …”

“This isn’t about money, Rose girl. Just tell me where you want to go.”

“I don’t know?” What is it about on-the-spot questions that turn your mind into a blank slate? “Portland, Maine. I’ve always wanted to go there. But in the fall. I guess maybe Charleston? Or Savannah? What about you?”

“Here,” he says without hesitation. “I’m right where I want to be.”

I roll my eyes and pretend to gag myself with my finger. “I knew you were extra, but I had no idea you were capable of being this cheesy.”

“You asked, I answered. Just telling the truth.” He watches me from his periphery. “You intrigue me.”

I roll my eyes again. Harder this time. “Bull. August, let’s be clear. Lines like this don’t work on me. If you’re trying to flatter me, it’s having the opposite effect. I’m cringing. Like, head to toe.”

“I mean it.” He angles his body toward mine, his left arm resting on the driver’s door. “My entire life you’ve been this enigma, this … forbidden fruit, for lack of a better term. And honestly, I didn’t give two shits about you until you walked into my life, and now you’re all I can fucking think about.”

My mouth runs dry because I don’t know what to say. No one’s ever been obsessed with me, nor has anyone told me I’m all they can think about.

He exhales, staring straight ahead. “It’s fucked up, I know. This level of obsession.”

Silence settles between us.

“Aren’t you curious about me? Have you ever thought about me?” he asks. “Wondered about me?”

“There was never a reason to.”

Reaching across the bench seat he brushes hair from my forehead and tucks it behind my ear. The sheer sensation of his fingertips against my face sends a spray of goosebumps down my arm.

“But what about now?” he moves a few inches closer. “Now that we’ve officially met, do you ever think about me? Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if I kissed you?”

A fluttery, arrhythmic sensation spreads across my chest as my breath hitches.

“You’re scared. Is that it?” He leans away but only slightly. “Maybe I should describe it for you?”

I lick my lips, focusing on the Cadillac emblem protruding from the hood.

“Or better yet, I’d be happy to demonstrate.” He comes in closer again. Cupping my jaw, he angles my face toward him until our eyes meet. His attention drops to my lips for a second before returning. “Maybe you’re a hands-on learner.”

I try to swallow but I can’t.

I try to speak but the words are stuck.

“I’d take it slow.” August leans in until the heat of his mouth almost grazes mine. We’re not touching. Not yet. “Let the anticipation build. That’s important.”

The faint remnants of his expensive aftershave fill the air around us. Leather and darkness. The scent of a man much more experienced than he should be at nearly twenty. His nose rubs against mine, soft and teasing as his thumb runs along my jaw line and down the side of my neck.

Abandoning my mouth, he presses his lips into the soft spot below my ear next, peppering kisses lower, lower still, until he reaches the top of my shoulder, and then he pushes the fabric of my blouse aside to taste my skin.

My sex throbs and my stomach caves with each deep breath. He works his way to the other side of my neck and for a moment, I almost forget to breathe. When he’s finished, he lifts my wrist to his mouth and kisses the tender underside, making my pulse quicken.

I’ve fooled around with guys before, but none of them took their time. None of them kissed me or touched me solely for my pleasure. The best they could do was a sloppy make out session with a side of fully clothed grinding.

“Curious yet?” He stops to glance up at me. “Want to experience the real thing?”

My jealous lips are on fire, aching from abandonment. I try to speak, but I’m quite certain whatever words come out of my mouth would be incoherent.

“Safe to say that’s a yes?” His mouth closes in on mine in one slow and endless move. It isn’t a frenzied crash, it’s reckless euphoria.

I don’t exist on this plane anymore.

In this oil-scented garage.

In this buzzing, live-wire body.

I’m somewhere else entirely.

I never thought being the object of someone else’s fantasy would be a thing for me—but this is … incinerating me from the inside out.

August’s tongue parts my lips until it dances with mine, and in one slick move, he pulls me into his lap and takes my spot on the passenger side. Cupping my face in both hands, he guides my face away until our eyes hold and everything in this moment pauses, suspended in time.

“You’re making the right decision.” His eyes glint, silver with a side of wickedness. And he reaches down to lean the seat back.


Tags: Winter Renshaw Romance