Enemy Down - Cathryn Fox Page 0,15

me to the frat house, but left after I entered. “It went fast, and so much for Christian not bidding.”

Her mouth falls open, and she grabs me by the shoulders. “You’re Christian’s?”

“I’m not his,” I snap, but yeah, I kind of am. Bought and paid for. “He’s my benefactor, and I will do things for him to earn the money.”

“Oh, what kind of things?” she asks with a wag of her eyebrow.

“Sex isn’t on the table, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Her head angles, her gaze moving over my face. “What?”

“You sound disappointed about that.”

“I’m not a prostitute, and I do not sound disappointed. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day and going up on that stage was beyond stressful.”

Maybe I should have stayed, let Christian massage my tight muscles.

“Well now you’re a sugar baby, a kept woman.” She frowns. “I wish I’d gotten a card. It’s kind of a sweet deal.”

My jaw drops open. “You can’t be serious.”

“As serious as a damn ankle injury, Maize.”

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and get a football to the head.”

She laughs, and covers her mouth, not wanting to wake our roommates. “Get some sleep,” I tell her.

I hobble to the bathroom, get ready for bed, and then walk to my room. I tug on a night shirt, crawl into bed, and pull the covers up. Even though I’m exhausted, I’m too keyed up to fall asleep. I grab my cell, and a wave of disappointment curls through me when I don’t find a message from Christian. I toss it aside, but as soon as I do, it pings. I snatch it up far too quickly, and try to calm my racing heart as I read the text from Christian.

How are your culinary skills?

I run my fingers over the words as a goofy smile crosses my lips as I text back. “I’m a pretty good cook.”

Breakfast tomorrow?

I guess I can make you breakfast. My place or yours?

Mine.

Would this be breakfast in bed?

Dammit, why oh, why did I have to bring up his bed?

Yes.

I drop my phone like it’s on fire, and peek at it over the covers.

Nine okay?

I snatch my phone and text back. That’s not much of a list.

Still working on it. I’ll have it ready in the morning.

I let him know nine is fine and I wait to see if he’s going to respond and when no message comes through, a ridiculous sound catches in my throat. I close my eyes, and toss restlessly. I’m sure my body has never been so alive. God, when I walked onto that stage tonight, and heard Christian bid on me, although at the time, I had no idea it was him, I was both nervous and shocked. I couldn’t understand why any guy would bid so high. Of course, I quickly learned why. Christian feels responsible for my ankle. But I can’t deny there was something in his eyes when he removed the hood of his robe, something that looked like desire. He assured me he wasn’t looking to finish what he started in that closet and I’m happy about that.

If I’m so happy about that, why are my fingers inching downward, sliding between my widening legs? Normally when I fall into bed, I crash hard. Training will do that to you, but I suspect I’m not going to get any sleep tonight until I take the edge off, and not even sure if I can with my fingers, but dammit, I’m sure going to try.

I let my knees fall open, and slide my finger over my clit. I imagine it’s Christian’s hand between my legs, his mouth working the nub that’s swelling beneath the pad of my finger. I groan and envision him in his bed right now, his cock in his hand as he strokes himself while he pictures me on my knees, his cock in my mouth. I rub myself harder, my mind on an erotic journey like never before. I’ve fantasized a time or two, but tonight the vision behind my eyes is vivid, real. Maybe it had something to do with the way he held me down the other day, or the way he looked at me tonight. I swear to God there was something that resembled hunger in his eyes. I slide a finger into my body and crush my clit beneath the heel of my hand, and just like that, a powerful orgasm grips me hard, and I try to stifle a moan as I grow slicker