Enemy Down - Cathryn Fox Page 0,27

together, Christian. You can’t touch her. You’ve done enough already.

Right?

9

Maize

I flick through the stations as doors bang and guys shuffle in the hall. I guess they’d all slept in on this rainy Sunday. With my body still tingling from the way Christian had touched me, I sink further into his cushiony mattress. What the hell is his bed made out of? I’d never get up if I had this kind of luxury.

A yawn pulls at me as I aimlessly go through the channels. I don’t normally watch TV and especially not on a Sunday. Sundays are for running hard and studying even harder. I turn my gaze and it lands on my backpack as a yawn pulls at me. My God, why am I so tired? Probably because I’ve not been exercising, and last night, I had a hard time falling asleep, even after touching myself while I thought about Mr. Quarterback. Star player, and star of my dreams.

You are so screwed, girl.

I’m not and that could be the problem. Maybe if I did sleep with Christian, I’d get over this crazy infatuation. Sex is sex and what I experienced with Ryan is probably what it’s like with all guys. I think girls just make stuff up, to make themselves and the jocks look good. I’d probably be disappointed if he touched me in a sexual way, although every single innocent caress feels erotic when it comes from him.

I shut my eyes as the rain once again picks up outside, the drone against the window pulling me under—that and the monotone delivery on the news station I settled for. The cozy mattress shapes my body and I reach down and pull up a blanket from the end of the bed. My heart slows and I swear I’ve never been so warm or comfortable in my life.

The next thing I know, my eyes are opening, and I glance around. Where the hell am I? I blink, trying to orient myself, and go up on my elbows as my vision clears. “What’s going on?” I ask when I find Christian sitting in a big comfy recliner, tapping away on his laptop. As soon as I speak, he shuts it and jumps to his feet.

“Hey,” he whispers, and the soft sound goes through me, awakens a deep need inside me and in that instant, I want Christian to touch me, I want to feel his hands and mouth on my body. I want…him. “How did you sleep?”

I give a slow shake of my head, and note the stack of blankets on me. Did Christian tuck me in? “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was so tired.”

“It’s okay, I was just working on my assignment.”

He sits next to me, and as the bed dips, I slightly roll toward him. I try to remove my foot from the stack of pillows so I can sit up, but he puts his hand on my stomach, fingers splayed, and holds me down.

Dear God, I wish I didn’t like that so much.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

I blink. “Home.”

His grin does incredibly strange things to me. “You’re staying here now, remember?”

My brain fills in all the missing pieces as it wakes. “Oh, right.”

“And we didn’t ice your ankle. I didn’t want to do it while you were asleep. You looked adorable, and the snoring…” He holds up his phone. “It’s blackmail.”

He recorded me snoring! “Christian—”

“Kidding. Kidding. Relax, Maize.” He sets the phone on his nightstand, and holds his hands up in surrender. “It’s all good. I would never do that to you.”

I give him a look that suggests he’s done worse, and instead of commenting, he glances at the clock and frowns.

“Am I keeping you from something?”

He gives a slow nod. “Yeah, sort of.”

“I can leave.”

His nod turns to a fast shake. “No, I want you to stay put. Consider my room your room now. I just have to run out, but before I do, I want to ice your ankle. Give me a second.” Before I can say anything, he rushes from the room, tightly closing the door behind him and the sound of his boots pounding on the wooden stairs reverberate through me. I sit in silence, noting the house is quiet now. I guess the guys are up and gone, or in their rooms studying…or doing something maybe a little more pleasurable.

I touch the bedding. God, how many women have been in this bed and spread their legs for Christian? He might have bought and