Undeniably Enemies (Boston's Irresistible Billionaires #5)

by J. Saman

He’s a lot older, and obsessing over your older brother’s best friend is a very adolescent thing to do.

The odds that both of us would be at this party, would talk and flirt and come down here to share that drink and end up like this are virtually nonexistent. Yet here we are.

And I shouldn’t be shocked that he’s regretting it, but when the guy you fancied yourself in love with for a big chunk of your life regrets being inside you, that hurts in the most devastating way. Honestly, I’m not sure what I was expecting from him. Of course his loyalty is to Owen. He wasn’t going to whisk me out of here and hold me all night and make love to me. That’s a childish fairy-tale notion. I’m not his Cinderella, and as he said before, he’s the villain, not the prince.

It happened. V-card eliminated. Check. Now, I can move on, put the past behind me, and start a new page of a new chapter.

My vagina hurts, and my heart feels like someone is using it as a trampoline. I didn’t know Jack could still affect me this way, but here it is.

“The son of a bitch took your virginity and then regretted it? He told you that?”

You’ll be stronger because of this, and a year from now, what happened between the two of you tonight will be a distant memory. It will fade into the past and be like it never happened.”

“She is not his woman.” I turn back to Wren. “Answer me.” Indignation flares across her pretty face. “What does it look like I was doing talking to him?” “Dredging the bottom of the genetic pool. Wren, he has maybe two brain cells total. Maybe,” I emphasize. He taps on my back. “Yo, asshole. What the fuck, man?”

“I’ll cockblock you all night, sweetheart. Just try me.”

“Screw me, you already did. So go and enjoy your night, Cinderella. Good luck finding that prince to fuck you half as well as I did. I’ll happily stay your villain, and with any luck, I won’t have to see you again for at least another year.”

Hate is easy. Hate is safe. Hate doesn’t have me ripping her clothes off and pinning her against a wall again. It doesn’t have me losing control or risking something I swore I’d never risk again.

So yeah. Maybe I hate Wren Fritz. And right now, I have no apologies for being a dick and making her hate me first. Thank God we don’t live anywhere close to each other. Avoiding her ’til death do us part should be easy.

His brown hair, shaved close on the sides and longer on top, is pushed back from his brutally gorgeous face, showcasing his piercing blue eyes, straight nose, and sharp, stubble-lined jaw. His posture is casual with his foot propped up against the door and his hands tucked into the pockets of the lab coat he’s only wearing because he has new students, but his expression is hard and unrelenting.

He destroyed all that, and now he’s the last man I could ever imagine fantasizing about in any sort of romantic way. Murder and mayhem, maybe, though. It still creeps me out that we shared that drink together, but I think at this point it’s clear there will be no ‘til death do us part unless we kill each other.

I toss him a wink because I can be saucy like that, and he rolls his eyes, turns in the opposite direction, and walks off.

I’m her villain. The guy who took her virginity in all the wrong ways and continued to do wrong because I didn’t know how to do right by her. He turned me into the bad guy, and I am not the fucking bad guy!

“What? You had a crush on me?” That knocks me sideways. “The fact that you’re so oblivious is another trait I can’t stand. Yes. But I was very young and insanely naïve and didn’t know you were such an asshole. You can’t hold it against me. The hot older brother’s best friend trope is real.” “Huh?”

“So I’m scary hot, and you had a crush on me?” She grins as she rocks up onto the balls of her feet. “Yep. But don’t go getting your thong in a twist. That crush died a long time ago, and then you smashed it dead at the LA party.”

“Yep. But don’t go getting your thong in a twist. That crush died a long time ago, and then you smashed it dead at the LA party.”

I like my coffee the same color as your heart. Black.” She reaches around me, picks up my cup, and without blowing on it, takes a sip. “I just don’t like you.”

Our fingers brush, and it’s the same as it’s always been. I’d just forgotten since it’s been so long since I’ve touched her. It’s the same crackling energy that hums between us.

It’s the promise of clothes-ripping, sweaty, great sex. It’s what I felt the first time I touched her at the party and every time I have since, and right now it’s fucking with me. Like she does.

It’s only been two days of her, and I’m already like this. Christ, that woman needs to go, or I’ll never make it through these four weeks.

“Good night, my pretty Cinderella. I’ll see you tomorrow. Enjoy your dinner.”

“Oh, and just so you know, since you told me you think I’m scary hot. You’re fucking gorgeous. Makeup, no makeup, whatever.”

And like that, he’s gone. Food paid for, a meal in my hand, his warmth and breath...

I have to ignore him. From now on, I have to. Because if I start to give in to this incredible itch… I’ll never want to stop scratching.

I made it so she didn’t exist to me because whenever I did, she had a life force inside of me I struggled to control. Thinking about her more than I should never got me anywhere other than miserable.

She’s unfinished business that will never find closure, and it’s time I get over that.

My dick jumps like an excited puppy, desperate for her to pet it every time that happens. It’s ridiculous. It’s as though I’ve got no control, and control is the name of my goddamn game. At night when I leave here, I wonder if I’m going to randomly run into her or if she’s going to text me again. And when she does, despite saying I won’t engage, I always do.

I’ve hardly noticed that the pink shirt under her scrubs matches the natural color in her cheeks and lips or how her hair is in a ponytail today instead of a bun—thank God—and I certainly don’t give a shit if it still showcases the delicate features of her neck and face.

That beautiful bubble she was just encased in pops before my eyes. I’m her villain, and I should revel in how she hates me so much. It keeps me safe even when my thoughts about her aren’t always so. Yet today, for some inexplicable reason, it draws a frown to my lips. A frown she misreads as her expression turns hard, and she readies herself for battle. Good. Fighting I can handle. It’s welcome, almost.

love nice. I am nice. I can do nice all day long.” She shrugs indifferently. “If you say so. I mean, I haven’t witnessed that, but who knows?” “Are you saying I deserve bitchy instead?” “Perhaps someone who won’t let you walk all over them. But if you say Daffy’s your type, you should ask her out then, Romeo.”

“You wish. You’re so not my type.” “I’m everyone’s type. Besides, I thought I was your adolescent crush,” I throw back at her.

“I’ve tried. She’s absurdly loyal.” I laugh despite myself, tucking my hands into my scrubs’ pockets. “Unlike you.” “Definitely unlike me,” she parries. “I’m planning a coup. The other med students and I ride at dawn.” “Only against me or all the hierarchy?” “I’m undecided. It depends on how big of an asshole you are today. But the others will fall in line with my call.” I snort a laugh, unable to hide my amusement. “I should punish you for that. Any other student who dared to call me an asshole would be on scut for the rest of their medical school career. In fact, didn’t I say something similar to you the other morning?” “That was if I told you to fuck off again. Which I’m not at present since we’re in the hospital.”

How much would I love to punish the brat in her? Her gaze runs up and down my body, and I hate how much I notice it. How easily I react to it. My pulse quickens, and my cock, ever the puppy for her, gives an excited little jerk in my pants. My odd and unexplainable desire to be near her, to engage with her despite my better judgment, is completely unrelated to the fact that she drives me crazy. It’s a paradox. One I don’t think I’ll ever understand.

“I don’t want you as my anything, Cinderella.” She pats my shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that, villain.” She drops down and turns

“If you were mine, Cinderella, I’d take you over my knee and spank your beautiful ass red for intentionally being a brat and disobeying me.”

The title of that stupid drink I wish I’d never picked up, let alone shared with her, flickers through my head, mocking me. I’m stuck with her. Trapped. ‘Til death do us part? Yep, that’s how this feels. Like death. What am I going to do? I can’t live across the hall from her.

I’m starting to think I’m better off with my BOB. Me: BOB? Wren: Battery Operated Boyfriend.

That doesn’t surprise me, but I bet with the right guy you’d like being tied up and punished a little too. You’d want him to take that control from you, knowing the reward would be worth it.

No. Yes. Fuck. No, that’s a very bad idea.

This got out of hand fast. It’s been a long day for me, and I’m saying things I shouldn’t. Thinking things I shouldn’t. Wren: Same. Me: Don’t text me again. Wren: I won’t, but you should probably stop thinking about me so much. Good luck with that. I’m irresistible. Me: Unfortunately, beautiful girl, I’m starting to learn that the hard way. Good night, Wren. Wren: Bye, stranger.

He hits all my worst buttons, and this one is included.

“You kissed me.” “No longer panicking, are you? Now who’s my good girl?” That son of a bitch!

“Glad you’re feeling better now, Cinderella.” “Please die so you can return to your underworld, Satan.” “Vampires are already dead and can’t die twice.” He winks at me as he walks off, holding Willow in his arms, and yep, he’s a total dead man for saying that. And for making my ovaries explode. What is it about a hot guy holding a toddler? I’ll have to plot this out so I don’t get caught and my brother and his sister don’t know it’s me, but I’m thinking I’ll remove his lungs first.

We’re undeniably enemies, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want her more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman.

She snatches my hand from her ass and places it straight over her breast, using me to rub her. Her skin is so soft, so silky, and her small tits are the ultimate tease, capped with the prettiest pink nipples I’ve ever seen. I need them. I have to come all over them. Maybe torture them a bit until she whines and moans and begs for me to stop. Definitely lick them some more.

“You can have two orgasms, and I’ll have none,” I offer as I pant against her between deep, diving kisses. “They can be with your toys if you want while I watch and go crazy that I can’t touch you. That counts as punishment for me.” “Hardly. You’ll still get to see how I like it.” Also true. And fuuuuck, how hot is that? I’m like a kid in a toy store. I want, I want, I want. Give me, give me, give me.

“How am I not supposed to hate you more than I already do for this? You lied to me. You hid who you were.” “You want to hate me? Fine. Hate me. Just fucking fuck me already.”