Sleeping with the Enemy

I take a seat on the couch, and he goes to the other end to keep as much distance between us. I know he wants to hurt me, and I wish I could tell him I already am. How can I not, when I found out that my own brother is the reason why he was put behind bars?

"I'm sorry about Stone," I say shakily, but he doesn't even look my way. I debate for a moment on whether to let the silence linger or not, but it proves to be a moot point when he suddenly speaks.

"How much do you know?"

His voice is harsh and abrupt, but I tell myself to ignore this. It's Stone he's furious with, not me, so I mustn't take it personally.

But while I know this to be true, my voice still ends up cracking a little as I answer him.

"I was only five when Jocelyn died. I don't remember much about it. And no one in the family likes talking about it either. When Stone said those words earlier—-"

"What words?" he asks mockingly.

"I really had no idea you were involved—-"

"You can just say it, you know," he says mockingly. "Just say 'I killed your brother's girlfriend'—-"

"Did you, really?"

"You heard what your brother said."

"That's what he says. That's what he thinks—-"

"It's what everyone thinks," he cuts me off savagely. "Or have you forgotten the part where the jury and judge—-"

"Even so." I look at him straight in the eye. "I want to hear you say it."

"Why the fuck—-"

"Because I don't believe it's true."

Rafael's lip curls, but I tell myself to ignore this, too.

"I know it can't possibly be true...because my whole life, I thought I'd only love Nic...until you. I've never been attracted to any other guy except you, and I don't...I don't think God would be so cruel to make me want someone who's truly responsible for killing my brother's girlfriend."

I wait desperately for Rafael to speak, but all he does is stare at me, and I look at him imploringly. "Say something, please. All I want is to hear the truth—-"

"And then what?" he asks tautly.

"Give me the truth," I hear myself say, "and then we can pick up where we left off."

Rafael is staring at me like I've grown a pair of horns in the past five seconds, and honestly...I feel the same way.

Those words practically came out of nowhere, and—-

"I didn't kill her."

My heart nearly stops beating when I hear him speak.

"I remember her standing at the sidewalk," Rafael says hollowly. "I remember the light turning green. And I remember her jumping right in front of my car at the very last second...like she wants to make sure she won't come out of it alive."

Rafael

"I think I'm going to take that drink now."

The words Zee stammers out finally ends the strained silence between us, and I'm privately relieved to finally have something to do.

I can't believe I told her all those things, dammit.

I've only explained myself to two persons in the past seventeen years.

The first one was the counselor I was assigned to when I was detained at a juvenile center. He was a former drug addict who dedicated his life to helping out troubled teenagers like me. He got me into sports - boxing in particular, and it was because of him that I was able to turn my life around and have since become the world's highest-paid pugilist.

As for the second person, it's a near complete stranger...who's currently seated on my couch.

My instincts tell me I should get rid of her, but instead I find myself walking to the minibar and asking Zee what she wants.

"Just water, please."

A humorless smile twists over my lips. "Playing it safe?"

"Not really."

I walk back to the couch as she speaks, and as I work on opening the bottle of water, Zee then adds, "I just want to be sober when we have sex."

SPLASH!

I accidentally squeeze the bottle a little too hard at the words, and the next thing I know she's laughing and sputtering in surprise as a blast of water hits her chest.

"Shit. I'm sorry." I turn away to swiftly yank several sheets of tissue from a box.

"It's fine—-" Her voice breaks off as I touch her chest, and at first, everything's completely innocent. I don't notice anything as I rub away at the wet dark spot on her blouse, and it's only when I encounter something small and hard—-

Fuck!

—-that I realize how my touch has her completely aroused, and it's her pebbled nipple that I'm now holding between my fingers.

Shit.

I'm fucking hard in an instant, my thick fat dick throbbing painfully behind my pants.

I know I should be taking my hand away from her tit, but instead I find myself pinching her nipple, and my grip on my sanity slips even further at the sound of her cry.