Twisted Hate: An Enemies with Benefits Romance

party exactly five minutes later, her jaw set in a stubborn line.
We walked down the hall until we reached an unlocked drawing room. I
shut the door behind us, and then…silence.
We stared at each other, the air heavy with old hurts and unspoken words.
You’ve never thought I was good enough.
I heard what you said. To Ava.
So what changed? Besides sex.
My irritation at seeing her with Asher slowly drained away, replaced with
guilt and shame. I hadn’t known Jules was listening, but I still felt like an
asshole for what I said.
“What do you want to talk about?” Jules asked, her tone as stiff as her

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shoulders.
“I want to…” I hesitated, wishing I had something more sufficient than
words. “Apologize.”
Once upon a time, delivering an apology to Jules Ambrose would’ve been
as painful as cutting out my own tongue. Now, the words tumbled out with
relative ease.
I understood why Jules was upset. She was right. I’d been an asshole.
I should’ve apologized the other night, but I’d been so taken aback by the
revelation I couldn’t think of a proper response. Not only to what happened
with Ava, but to her follow-up questions.
So what changed? Besides sex.
Everything.
That was what I should’ve said, had I not been too blind to see it and too
chickenshit to say it.
Ours started as a sex-only arrangement, but it’d never been about just sex.
Even when I thought I hated her, I was already softening toward her. Every
smile, every laugh, and every conversation chipped away at the image I’d
constructed of her in my mind until I was left with someone I didn’t know but
couldn’t bear to let go of.
“You already apologized,” she said.
“No, I didn’t.” I took another step toward her. “I’m sorry for asking Ava
to end her friendship with you. It was fucked up.”
Jules looked away. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not. Even if I didn’t mean for you to hear it, you did. I hurt you, and
I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. A tear cascaded down her cheek, glinting silver in
the moonlight, and something in my chest cracked. “Once upon a time, you
would’ve never apologized.”
“Once upon a time, I was a dickhead.”
“Who says you still aren’t?”
A small smile curved my lips, but it disappeared when Jules spoke again.
“What are we doing, Josh? This is supposed to be just sex.”
That was what I kept telling myself, too. But I was damn tired of
pretending our arrangement hadn’t evolved into something that couldn’t be
constrained by rules, and the thought that Jules believed I was using her for
just sex, even if she’d consented to it, made my heart twist into a brutal knot.
I didn’t have a problem with no strings attached sex. Hell, that was all I’d

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indulged in since I started having sex. But with Jules, it felt wrong, like a
custom-made suit that still didn’t fit right.
“There’s a difference between what something is supposed to be and what
it actually is, Red.”
There it was. An admission thinly disguised as ambiguity.
It lingered in the air, which fell so silent I could hear the increased tempo
of Jules’s breath and every tick of the grandfather clock in the corner.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
I didn’t know when I stopped hating Jules and started craving her. All I
knew was that I did, and I never wanted to go back.
“Maybe there shouldn’t be.”
I stilled. “What,” I said, my calm voice belying the sudden storm surging
through my veins, “is that supposed to mean?”
Jules lifted her chin, but I detected a tiny tremble in her voice. “It means
we should date other people. Our arrangement is non-exclusive. It’s time we
take advantage of that clause.”
A dark, ugly beast reared its head and snarled in my chest. “The fuck we
will.”
Who the fuck could she possibly want to date, anyway? Asher Donovan?
The fucker was a notorious womanizer, and he didn’t even live in D.C.
“Those were the rules,” Jules pointed out.
“Rules change.”
“No.” She inched back, a hint of panic creeping into her eyes. “Not with
us.”
“You’ve never had an issue bending the rules before.”
I stepped toward her; she stepped back. A simple, ceaseless dance that
ended until her back was pressed against the wall and less than an inch
separated her mouth from mine.
“What are you so afraid of, Red?” My breath ghosted across her skin.
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Bullshit.”
“This was supposed to be simple.”
“It’s not.”
There’d never been anything simple about her.
Jules was the most complicated, fascinating person I’d ever met.
She closed her eyes. “What do you want from me?” she asked, sounding
resigned.

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Another tear slipped down her cheek. I wiped it away with my thumb,
fierce protectiveness rising inside me.
I didn’t know what I wanted from her, but I knew I wanted her. I knew
she haunted my thoughts and invaded my dreams until she was the only thing
I could see. And I knew that being with her was one of the few times I truly
felt alive.
“I want you.” I didn’t need to dress the truth up win flowery language; it
was powerful enough on its own. “We’re not dating other people, Red. I
don’t give a fuck what the original terms of our arrangement were. Do you
want to know why?”
A hard swallow disrupted the delicate lines of her throat. “Why?”
I lowered my head and wound my hand through her hair, pulling her even
closer to me.
“Because you’re mine,” I said against her mouth. “Let another man touch
you, Jules, and you’ll find out just how easily I can take a man’s life as I can
save one.”

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JULES