Sleeping with the Enemy (An Enemies to Lovers Collection)

“How the hell did you get in here?” I ask the spider, shooting it an annoyed glare.

In reply, it twitches its hairy front legs at me, literally. Like it’s grooming itself or something. And damn, its hair is long enough to groom. It’s even long enough to cut into a spider mullet because they seem to be trendy again. Mullets, I mean. Not spiders. The spider must be a good six to eight inches wid! I shudder in revulsion. I don’t mind spiders, but usually, we’re talking normal-sized spiders. Not elephant-sized ones.

“You’re pretty nasty. You know that?”

The spider just twitches.

“Please don’t eat me.”

It twitches again.

“I’m probably going to be forced to attempt to murder you if you come anywhere near me.”

At this, it twitches harder and lifts a hairy leg like it's shaking a spider fist at me. I raise my fist but then think better of killing it with my bare hand because it would be disgusting. I’d have to hear and feel it squish. It would be better to knock it off the railing, run down the stairs, and stomp it. Although, thinking about stomping something that size, even with my shoe, is enough to turn my stomach.

“Okay, so maybe I’ll just knock you down and find something to trap you in before setting you outside where you belong,” I amend.

The spider stares me down, unmoving now as if it’s challenging me, daring me to touch its hairy ass.

Yeah, it’s a pretty big dare, because my god, is it ever gross. I’d rather put my mouth on the business end of a freaking public toilet after an entire office had chili Friday…bad chili with lots of beans and wicked spices. You can see where I’m going with this. Yeah, shit. I don’t think it’s not manly to not like spiders, especially when they’re of the murderous variety, because this spider? He’s clearly lethal.

“You’ll do nothing of the sort!” A soft but still high-pitched voice tinged with horror echoes around the stairwell.

I barely have time to blink before a blur appears at the top of the stairs and comes toward me. I can only stare in awe and horror as Esme scoops the spider up with her bare hands, cups it like a baby, and holds it to her chest.

“How dare you threaten Hector? What’s wrong with you?”

“H…Hector?” I stammer. Wait! That thing’s a pet?

“Does this look like a normal spider to you? Do you think we grow tarantulas naturally here?”

“Well, yes, I’m pretty sure there are natural ones in California. How would I know? I’m not from here.”

“Well, this is Hector, and he is indeed my pet! He’s a bit of an escape artist and always gets out of his tank.”

“Oh, I see. So this is an oopsy poopsy, my spider got out of its enclosure, not an I let it out on purpose to terrify the new roommate I don’t want sort of thing.”

Esme scrunches her face at me—her very beautiful, adorable, and alluring face. She has gorgeous, silky black hair trailing way the heck down her back and huge green eyes that are totally at odds with her hair color, which leads me to believe it might not be her natural color. She also has full pink lips, high cheekbones, and a heck of a wicked flush right now that heats up her tanned skin. I can’t help but admit that she’s extremely beautiful, alluring, mysterious, womanly, and tempting. She’s a heck of a package all rolled up into one feisty little spitfire. I know she’d probably feed my balls to her pet tarantula if she could hear my thoughts.

Or if she knew how my appreciation and attraction for her was echoed in my nether regions. Thank god she’s not looking down there. Instead, she’s looking at my face, totally pissed off.

“I would never, ever endanger the life of one of my pets! This isn’t a joke! You could have killed him. You threatened to!”

“I wouldn’t have. The mess would have been horrible.”

“Ahhhh!” Esme hugs the wretched creature to her chest, then bends her head and uses those nice, full lips of hers to place a kiss on the thing's hairy ass.

Ughghghghghghhghgh. I shudder violently. Silas failed to mention that, as part of this agreement, I’d have to live out a real-life horror movie. What other ‘pets’ does this lady have in the house?

“This desk isn’t going to go up the stairs,” I say, changing tactics. I hold up my hand. “It bit me, so I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

Esme eyes my hand then glances down at her spider and stares at the desk before looking back at my hand. Suddenly, her face changes and the hardness disappears. In its place, something soft filters in, and there’s a flash of guilt and regret in her huge green eyes.