Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

someone died on my watch today. 

---

But the pressure from earlier was building in my chest again, and I
needed to relieve it before it drove me crazy.
“I lost someone today.” I leaned back in my chair and stared at the
ceiling, unable to face Jules as I admitted my failure. “She was seventeen.
Got hit by a drunk driver.”
It felt weird saying the words out loud. I lost someone. It sounded so
generic. People lost toys and house keys; they didn’t lose lives. They had
lives wrenched from them, stolen by the cruel hands of an unforgiving god.
But that didn’t roll off the tongue quite as nicely, I supposed.
A soft hand covered my own. I stiffened and kept my eyes on the ceiling,
but the knot in my chest loosened a smidge. 
“I’m so sorry,” Jules said softly. “I didn’t—I can’t imagine…” 
“It’s fine. I’m a doctor. It happens.”
“Josh—”
“And you?” I interrupted, twisting my head to look at her. “What
happened? Don’t give me that bull about allergies again, either.” 
“I do have allergies.” Several beats passed before she admitted, “It’s
possible I’ll have to…do something I’m not proud of. I promised myself I
would never do it again, but I might not have a choice. I just…” A hard
swallow shifted the delicate lines of her throat. “I don’t want to be that
person.”
It was vague as hell, but her distress was palpable and seeped through my
skin into places it had no business touching. 
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it is,” I said. “As long as you didn’t
murder anyone or set anything on fire.”
“Wow. The bar really is in hell.” 
A small smile touched my lips for the first time that day. “At least it’s
warm down there.”
Jules snorted out a laugh. “If only I had your optimism.”
“You can only wish.” I angled my head toward the small reference library
located off the main library. “So, still want to fuck?”
Nothing turned a crappy day around like a good fuck.
Plus, between her inadvertent sleepover and the brief lowering of our
guards just now, we were edging too far from the rules of our pact. It was
time to bring it back to what it was supposed to be about: sex. Quick,
transactional, and mutually satisfying. 
Judging by the rigid lines of Jules’s neck and shoulders, she needed a

---

physical release as much as I did. 
She responded by gathering her notes and stuffing them in her backpack.
We left her textbooks on the table—I highly doubted anyone would want to
steal a tome on corporate law—and walked as casually as we could into the
reference section.
I led us to one of the stacks that didn’t fall under the gaze of the security
cameras before I pinned her to the shelves and molded my mouth to hers. It
started chaste, almost clinical—a way for us to forget our troubles and
nothing else.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about how exhausted she’d looked, or how
comforting her hand had been over mine, and before I knew it, the kiss
softened into something more…not tender, exactly. But understanding.
It was our first non-angry kiss, and it felt nicer than I expected.
I cupped her face and traced my tongue over the seam of Jules’s lips until
she opened for me. God, she tasted incredible, like heat and spice and sugar
all rolled into one.
I’d always been a chocolate guy, but cinnamon was fast becoming my
new favorite flavor. 
Her arms snaked around my neck, and her soft sigh whispered down my
spine and settled somewhere low in my stomach. 
“Think we can forget about our shitty week for a while?” she whispered.
Fierce protectiveness welled in my chest at the touch of vulnerability in
her voice, but I forced it back down. 
We were only together for sex. Anything else was off the table. 
“Sweetheart, in a few minutes, you’ll forget your own name.” 
I sank to my knees, my mouth tipping up at the surprise in her eyes. Our
last few times had been rough and deliciously filthy, but today, I was in the
mood for a different kind of feast.
I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her underwear and pulled them
down beneath her skirt. “Might want to cover your mouth, Red.”
That was the only warning I gave before I spread her thighs and dived in,
alternating between gentle licks and long, hard pulls on her sweet little clit.
I groaned. She tasted even better down here. Most women thought men
wanted them to taste like berries or lavender or whatever, but if we were
eating pussy, we wanted to taste pussy. That was the whole fucking point.
Jules fisted my hair with one hand when I pushed two fingers inside her. I
pumped them in and out slowly while I continued teasing her clit. It was

---

swollen and tender, and when I grazed my teeth against it, her soft cry
arrowed straight to my cock.
I forced myself to keep the rhythm soft for a while longer before I
increased the pace and intensity, sucking and finger fucking her until her
arousal dripped down my hand and her thighs. I lapped it all up, drunk from
the taste of her. Forget food and water. I could subsist on Jules forever.
I pulled my fingers out replaced them with my tongue, eager for more.
Jules shook around me. She fisted my hair harder with a muffled cry, and
a second later, her juices flooded my tongue.
Fuck. 
My senses swam with her scent, and when she squirmed, trying to inch
away from me, I gripped her hips and forced her to remain still.
“Josh…” My name fell out as a whimper, also muffled.
My blood surged when I lifted my head and saw she’d clamped her free
hand over her mouth to soften her moans. The prettiest rose shaded her
cheeks, and tears glittered in her eyes from the suppressed force of her
orgasm.
My cock threatened to punch a hole through my jeans. I loved hearing her
sweet screams, but there was also something so fucking hot about seeing
someone hold back when you knew all they wanted was to explode.
“I’m not done yet, Red.” I gave her clit another languorous lick. “You
don’t want to interrupt a man before he’s finished eating, do you?”
Jules responded with another moan.
I returned to my meal, licking and sucking and tongue fucking her with
abandon. By the time I was done, I had to hold her up with one arm as I rose
to my feet. 
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and savored the lingering
taste of her. My blood pounded with arousal.
I wished we had time for another round, but we were already pushing our
luck. No one had stumbled on us, but the smell of sex permeated the air, and
it wouldn’t take an errant passerby to piece two and two together. 
“I’ve always wanted to defile the library,” Jules mumbled, clinging to me
in a way she never would’ve outside sex. 
A laugh bubbled in my throat. “Defile might be too strong a word, though
I suspect they’d revoke my library access if anyone finds out what
happened.”
My cock pulsed, eager for its turn, but when she reached for my belt

---

buckle, I grasped her wrist and placed it back by her side.
Confusion creased her brow. “But—”
“I’ll take care of it later. Don’t worry about it.”
“Josh, that looks painful.”
It was painful. I was so hard it was fucking excruciating. But a sick part
of me reveled in it. 
The pain reminded me I was still alive. 
“You need a release too,” Jules pointed out, and I knew she wasn’t just
talking about an orgasm.
“I’ll take care of it,” I repeated. Walking out with a boner the size of the
Washington Memorial would be awkward as fuck, but the other people in the
library had looked so zoned out I wasn’t sure they’d notice. “Don’t want to
push our luck.”
“Right.” She closed her eyes, her breaths slowing.
Lazy silence swirled in the air.
Today was a complete one-eighty from the type of sex we usually had,
but sometimes you needed hard and fast; other times you needed long and
languid.
Besides, I could eat Jules out for days and not get tired of it.
My eyes lingered on her delicate features and rosy flush for a second
longer than they should’ve.
On impulse, I said, “You want to go with me somewhere next Saturday?
It’s not a date,” I clarified when her eyes popped open. “The hospital is
having its annual all-staff picnic and I know the nurses will try to set me up
like they do every year. Figured I’d preempt it by bringing a fake date.” I
emphasized the word fake.
Jules’s brows rose. “That’s against the rules of our arrangement.”
Yeah, I fucking knew. I wasn’t sure what possessed me to ask her when I
could’ve brought any number of casual female acquaintances, but reason flew
out the window whenever Jules Ambrose was involved.
It was damn infuriating, but since I couldn’t do anything about it, I might
as well lean into it.
“Rules are meant to be bent.” I shrugged. “Look, if you ever need
someone to pretend to be your date, I’m game. It’s easier than asking some
random person.”
When Jules continued to hesitate, I added, “There’ll be free food.” 
A beat passed before she said, “I could make it work.” 

---

“Good. I’ll text you the details later.” I turned to leave, but her soft,
tentative voice stopped me. 
“Josh. Are you going to be okay?”
I stilled. A strange lump formed in my throat at her unexpected concern
before I swallowed it. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.” I threw her a quick smile over my
shoulder. “See you next Saturday, Red.”
After I left the library—where no one noticed my hard-on, thank God—I
went straight home and poured myself a glass of Macallan. The shit was
expensive, but it’d been a birthday gift from Alex. I’d rationed it out over the
years, saving it for my biggest celebrations and shittiest days.
I finished my first glass and poured myself a second one. I didn’t touch
my erection. Instead, I sat in my living room and leaned my head back
against the couch, listening to the silence.
Seeing Jules had provided a surprising measure of comfort, but the
momentary lightness I’d experienced in the library had already drained away.
I tossed back the rest of my drink and savored the burn of whiskey sliding
down my throat.
In that moment, it was the only thing keeping me warm.

---

27

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JULES
I 
COULDN
’
T
STOP
THINKING
ABOUT
J
OSH
OR
WHAT
HAPPENED
IN
THE
LIBRARY
.
Not only the part where he went down on me—though I’d replayed that