Sleeping with the Enemy (An Enemies to Lovers Collection)

I’m not sure about anything right now, but it feels like anything might be possible.

The limpness sets in around the same time for both of us, so I sweep Esme into my arms and squish her to me. There seems to be some wetness squishing between us, which I find a real turn on. Esme purrs, and I’m glad she’s okay with what we just did. I hope.

I place a soft kiss on her hair while our skin sticks together from sweat because we’re now a sweaty mess after what we did, and we’re also both still breathing heavily and panting.

“I think I might have seen the stars,” Esme whispers.

“I think I might have flown straight into the sun.”

“You’re right. I probably rocketed straight to Saturn.”

“I think I saw you on Pluto. You waved to me,” I joke back.

She giggles and swirls her finger over my nipple, which makes me hit the time machine again and bounce straight back into popping the hardest hard-on known to man. Jeez. That was easy. Maybe it’s the aftershocks, or maybe my cock just wants in on Esme’s mysterious cave of mystical and amazing wonders again.

No matter how much I’m rearing to go again, I need to give her a minute. In fact, I need to give myself a minute too, so I decide I’ll take her to the shower. Or maybe just get her a towel or whatever else she wants. Then, I’ll take my time if she wants to go again. However and whatever else she wants, I’m willing to give it to her.

I realize I’m not just thinking about sex here as my brain is still functioning at some rate that can process normal, non-sexual thoughts.

I hug Esme tighter, and she melts against me. I breathe a sigh of relief because I kind of doubted she’d be up for cuddling, but I’m glad she does have a softer side. God, I love her softer side.

As I lay there feeling sated, my eyes trail to the ceiling, and I freeze. “Good mother loving…how the heck…” I practically screech.

Esme’s gaze shoots upward, too, then she sighs. “I have no idea how he keeps getting out.”

“I think he might need therapy if he’s been here the whole time.”

“I think he might need a better enclosure.”

“I second that one.”

“I’ll get him down when he moves off of there. I can’t reach him right now.”

“He’s not going to fall on us?” My balls might now be the size of raisins. Hector is a big old cock-block in more ways than one, and he’s a cock shriveler, too, if such a thing really exists.

“He might,” Esme says, though I know she’s only half-serious.

“Jesus,” I groan, my voice sounding resigned.

“Yeah,” Esme responds sleepily. She’s already starting to drift off.

I let her. She passes out right there, her soft snores drifting right into my ears. I don’t know if she’s down for the night or just a quick nap, but either way, I know I’m not getting any sleep until Hector, the magical escaping spider, is back in his enclosure.

Spider creepiness, hairiness, and scariness aside, maybe that’s a good thing because I don’t mind having this moment at all—a moment to myself to savor and enjoy holding Esme, being close to her, and remembering all of it. Maybe Hector actually did me a favor, and we can get along after all.

CHAPTER 17

Esme

So, we had sex—super awesome, super hot, super out of this universe, super unforgettable, super everything kind of sex. Yeah, Wilder’s my roommate, but I don’t expect it to become a repeat performance. Except I guess it’s on its way to becoming just that and also an encore, a standing ovation, and then some because after a week, we’re still creeping into each other’s beds. Well, okay, so we’re not really creeping since it’s more like running frantically to attack each other in all the regular positions and even some we might have invented ourselves.

I don’t want to admit that what we’re doing is a thing, a thing I enjoy. A lot. Or that it’s a thing I’d miss because I’m seriously starting to enjoy the thing and doing the thing—Wilder’s thing. And also Wilder.

It’s not easy to get anything past Vera, though, and at our next girl’s night at Monique’s again—because she’s crazy nice and doesn’t mind hosting our arses and giving us all her wine and fine foods, though when I say fine foods, I mean pretzels and super greasy chips that are just the best—she tries to get me to spill.

“So? You’ve been radio silent,” Vera says as soon as I walk in the door and sit down. She’s taken the cuddle chair this time, unfortunately, so I take the sectional with Monique.

Thank goodness I have a glass of wine to bracket myself against the never-ending surge of questions. I wish Vera would get a boyfriend or a love interest because then I could bug her just like she bugs me. I love her to death, I truly do, but I just don’t feel like answering questions about Wilder.