EWB: Enemies With Benefits

by N.R. Walker

I hated Valentine Tye. I hated him with every fibre of my being, with the raging fire of a thousand burning suns. I hated him in ways I couldn’t even describe.

I hated that I noticed him. He was tall, lean, fit. His dark floppy hair, his pale skin and flushed cheeks. I fucking hated him for making me want him.

He smirked. I hated that smirk more than anything else. Don’t punch him in his stupid mouth. Don’t punch him in his stupid mouth.

A light came on, partly illuminating a sleek designer kitchen, and a black cat that watched me, judged me, from the floor near the fridge. It was jet black, with long legs and a pointy face, and it was looking at me with as much disdain as Valentine often did.

“I want you to hate me. I need you to hate me.” Then he popped the button on my jeans and wrapped his fingers around my cock, pumping me rough and hard. “And when you fuck me with your monster cock, I need you to hate me as hard as you can.”

“What—and I mean this with as much sincerity as possible—the actual fuck? You want me to hate-fuck you?” Hate-fuck. That made me smile. “Yes.”

“You want me to . . . like Indecent Proposal or some freaky shit? What the hell is wrong with you?” “That list is quite long.”

I wanted to hurt him, and I wanted to show him his place. That I was better than him and that I was in charge, and I’d fuck him into submission.

We were what with benefits? Enemies? Was ‘enemies with benefits’ a thing?

I hated his perfect hair, and I hated his pretty face. But damn, I loved knowing how his cheeks flushed during sex, how he groaned and whined, and that I could make him come with just my dick in his arse and a hard tweak of his nipple.

Enzo yelled at me again. “You make a lot of demands for someone who doesn’t pay rent,” I said to him. He yelled louder, so I filled his bowl with his stupid biscuits just to shut him up.

gestured to Enzo, who was now a black loaf purring on my lap. “What the fuck is this?” “He likes me. Cats are a very good judges of character.” “He’s a traitor, and he crossed enemy lines.” I laughed. “Enemies with benefits includes cuddles with the cat.”

He meowed, and I shot Valentine a look. “He tells me you haven’t fed him yet.” Valentine rolled his eyes and sighed. “He lies.”

I wanted to stretch him thin, to iron out any knots and troubles, and hold him. I wanted to kiss him, make sure he ate properly. I wanted to make him smile. I wanted to fix him. So I held him tighter and fucked him slower. I lost myself to the warmth of his body, to the feel of him underneath me, to the sounds he made, to the gasps and moans. I lost all track of time. And maybe for the first time, I lost myself. All that existed was him.

Oh yeah. I was in deep trouble. Deeeeeep. Like Marianna Trench levels of deep. And you know what? I didn’t fucking care.

It was such an intimate thing to do. Such a personal, sweet thing to do. How he could be so rough when I needed it and then be so gentle when I needed . . . And I’d never needed softness before. Not before him.

“It’s special to me. And you didn’t just show me kindness. You showed me what was possible, and what I could have. And what I’ll miss when you leave me. What I will never find again. All I wanted was for you to fuck me. I never asked for anything else, and now I don’t know how to live without it.”

But lying there on his couch, with him in my arms and his cat purring beside us . . . my feelings were pretty freaking clear. I didn’t hate Valentine Tye anymore. I hadn’t for a while.

Marshall shoved me onto the bed, folded me in half and fucked me good and hard. Like he loathed me. Like he couldn’t get enough of me. Like he loved me.

“Still don’t like you,” he mumbled as he snuggled in closer. “Still don’t like you either.”

“I hate a lot of things about you,” I said quietly. “I hate that you think so little of yourself when I think you’re kinda great. I hate that your parents cast you aside and use you, and they make you feel worthless when everything you do is for them. I hate that you put up these walls of ice like you need to protect yourself. I hate that you—”

“I can’t make you love me. But I can love you. I know you think you’re not loveable, or you’re not worth worthy of it, but you are.” God, my heart hurt so damn much. “I wish I could make you see that.”

“I don’t hate you, Valentine.” I nodded into his neck. “I don’t hate you either.”

I let him hold me tight because apparently I needed that now. “God, emotions are so fucking terrible.” He chuckled quietly and rubbed my back. “So terrible.”

I’d gone and fallen in love for the first time in my life. I was in love. So in love. With Marshall fucking Wise. God help me.

“I said it, and you know what? I’m not sorry. And it’s your fucking fault. You made me fall in love with you with the whole I-want-you-to-come-inside-me thing. Like what was I supposed to do? Not fall in love with you?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, yes, I’d marry you. And no, marriage isn’t terrible. I mean, it kind of is, but not marriage to you. That’d be kind of wonderful.” Brooklyn laughed, her hands to her face. “Oh god, this is a train wreck from start to finish.”

“But don’t get any ideas. Just because I wanna spend forever with you and don’t hate you anymore doesn’t mean I like you or anything.” I laughed, so much in love. “Good, just because I said yes doesn’t mean I like you or anything either.”