Does It Hurt?: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

This is a mistake.

Yet, here I am, following Enzo as he leads me toward a massive boat on the harbor, a credit card with his name on it burning in my back pocket.

The only voice I can hear right now is Kev’s. He berated me often, especially after our parents died. I can only imagine what he’d say now, watching me get on a boat with a man I hardly know. The worst part is I’m the criminal and allowing Enzo to take me out after what I’ve done… It’s too far, even for me.

Yet, I’m too fucking selfish to walk away.

We stop at the end of the dock, and he turns to look at me, watching me take in the boat before me.

She’s a beauty—gleaming white with the name Johanna on the side in big, blue letters. Windows line either side of it, and I’m pretty sure that thing could fit a bedroom or two in it comfortably, but what’s most notable is the cage attached to the back. A shark cage, to be exact.

“You expect me to get in that?” I ask, pointing to the mini prison. 

“If you’re feeling brave enough,” he challenges, his deep voice quiet yet wicked. There’s a spark in his eye, though I can’t decipher what the fuck it means.

I was expecting an immediate confrontation when he saw me. Denial was poised on the tip of my tongue, but he’s acting oblivious to his stolen identity. 

Most people aren’t aware their identity has been stolen until it’s too late. He has no reason to suspect me yet. Nothing was missing from his house, and despite his bottom drawer being unlocked, who would stop to consider identity theft?

Relax, Sawyer. He doesn’t even look angry.

Well, okay, that’s not entirely true. Enzo wears a perpetual scowl on his face like it’s an oxygen mask and has string beans for his lungs. According to him, it’s what keeps people far, far away and allows him to live his life in peace.

Regardless, allowing him to take me in the middle of the ocean where I quite literally can’t run isn’t one of my brighter ideas. In fact, it’s honestly fucking stupid.

That reminder settles in deep, and I’m beginning to feel all kinds of wrong again. I don’t necessarily feel like I need to fear for my life with Enzo, but I still feel on edge.

I take a step away. “I don’t know about this,” I hesitate. 

He stares down at me, silent, but I feel his disappointment anyway. And like a typical adult who grew up deprived of praise and attention from their parents, I’m now seeking those things from a man.

Fuck.

“I’ll give you a kiss as a reward,” he murmurs, his voice deep and seductive.

I put my hands on my hips, hating how alluring that sounds.

“That’s pretty special,” I retort. “You never told me why you won’t kiss me.”

His hazel eyes dance down my profile, wetting his lips before returning to my own. “I don’t kiss anyone. I’ve never met a woman who deserves that intimacy from me.”

I raise my brows. He definitely has mommy issues. But then, I can’t disagree with his logic, either. I’ve always hated kissing my flings for that exact reason. It was just something that always seemed like the natural thing to do when getting a dick rammed inside you. I guess on the bright side, it allowed me to find more interesting ways to utilize Enzo’s mouth.

“Until now,” I tack on. “You’re saying you’ll kiss me if I get on that boat?”

He pauses, then says, “Si.”

“You’re lying,” I respond, narrowing my eyes. Another indecipherable emotion flashes in his irises, gone before it can settle.

“Only one way to find out,” he says dryly.

“You think a kiss from you equals getting in a shark cage?” I question with a scoff.

“Si,” he responds readily. Confidently.

I can’t help but laugh, and it actually feels a little nice. His stare locks onto my mouth, zeroing in on it like it’s a fortune ball revealing his future.

“This is something very few people experience, Jamie.”

The smile on my face is uncontrollable. “Kissing you is that special, huh?”

He gives me a dry look. “Getting in a shark cage,” he clarifies, though we both knew that already.

I twist my lips and rock on my toes, contemplating his offer. My muscles are lined with tension, and there’s a deep, uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. 

I recognize it as guilt. He doesn’t know what I’ve done yet, and this may be the last time I’ll ever see him. And as much as I hate to admit it, I want to spend one more day with him before he hates me forever.

Indecision traps me in a vicious cycle of talking myself out of it, only to convince myself to try it. ’Round and ’round, until I finally settle on an answer.

“Fine. But if I die, make sure it’s before a shark eats me.”

Stoically, he rakes his gaze down my figure, then turns without a word, which feels entirely ominous. He steps on the boat and holds his hand out for mine, a hint of fire in his stare.

I take it.

I’ve never been good at making the right decision.

Salty ocean air whips through my tangled hair as Enzo speeds us through the vast, blue ocean. Anxiety is swirling in my stomach, and it doesn’t matter how many times I wipe my hands on my shorts, they’re still clammy.

I’m not sure how much time has passed, but Port Valen has become a speck. With each passing second, I feel more and more isolated, and my body still can’t figure out who is the one in danger.

After what feels like forever, the boat finally slows to a crawl. I had opted to feel the wind lashing at my face instead of staying in the closed-in area where he drives.

Right behind me is an open area where several oxygen tanks and scuba gear line the walls, along with a couple of benches to sit on while getting dressed.

“Nervous?” he asks, stepping down onto the deck. 

“We’re in the middle of a big bowl of monster soup. I’m pretty sure I should’ve brought diapers.” I’m not even embarrassed by that. Enzo claims he gave me the best fuck of my life—and he’s not wrong—but I’d wager that I did the same for him. So, who cares if I need a diaper when I am to be facing a massive beast soon?

He may be incredible in bed, but I guarantee these monsters are far scarier than the one between his legs.

He shakes his head and stalks toward the side where there’s a massive anchor. He begins to lower it while I turn to stare out at the horizon. It’s so easy to feel like you’re alone out here. Yet, I’m surrounded by life. So much life.

Enzo was right—being in the middle of the ocean absolutely does make you feel tiny. It stretches as far as my eyes can see no matter which direction I turn, and I don’t even want to see what’s below the surface.

When I manage to drag my eyes away from the glittering water, I find Enzo prowling toward me, and my body tightens with anticipation. For a brief second, my heart suspends in my chest, convinced he’s about to throw me overboard, but instead, he grabs a gray bucket by my feet.

He’s so intense, he would have a slug stiffening when he comes near.

I’m confused about what he’s doing until he opens the container. My cheeks blow wide, vomit rising up my throat. The bucket is full of… guts. Bloody chunks of entrails.

Lifting the bucket, he proceeds to dump it in the ocean, the crimson immediately clouding the water.

“How… how long does it take them to get here?”

He shrugs. “Shouldn’t be too long. Sharks have an incredible sense of smell.”

Rubbing my lips together, I nod my head, feeling all sorts of out of place.

The cage is suspended on a crane on the back of the boat, but he doesn’t lower it yet. I’m sure he’s going to walk me through how to get in the scuba gear and the oxygen tank first.

“Are you going to swim with them outside of the cage?” I ask.

“No. I only swim with them when they’re in my research center—and I don’t do it just for fun. You should never touch wildlife in the ocean.”

I’m definitely okay with never touching them, as long as they don’t touch me, either.

“They won’t, like, eat the boat, right?”

“Why eat the boat when they can eat you instead?”

My eyes round, and I stare at him, waiting for him to smile. He doesn’t—of course, he doesn’t—but there is mirth swirling in his eyes.

“You’re joking,” I state.

“I’ve already said they don’t like the taste of us,” he reminds me. 

“Sure, they’ll take a little nibble, say blech, and swim away. Meanwhile, they have my leg caught in their teeth, and I’ll live the rest of my life as a half-cyborg.”

 He shrugs. “There are worse things in life than being a half-cyborg,” he says, grabbing another bucket and dumping it in the ocean.

He would know, he practically is one.

“If it’s not so bad, get in the cage and stick your toes out. Let me know how dandy it is when it’s bashing you on either side of the cage while it slowly tears your leg off.”

He grunts. “It wouldn’t be slow. Your leg would be gone before you could blink. They have incredibly powerful bites.”

So maybe he knows what he’s talking about, but I can’t get that image out of my head anyway.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go. I wouldn’t want to lose my favorite toe.”

His brow furrows. “Do I even want to know?”

I point to my pinkie toe. “It’s cute. Sharks like cute things. They eat seals. Seals are cute.”

He looks to where I’m pointing, then shakes his head at me. “I don’t think they care much about how it looks. More like how it tastes.”

“I’m talking myself out of this,” I declare, anxiety starting to make me feel a little nauseous.

“So, stop doing it.”

I purse my lips. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m going to do this. For sure.”

I’m lying again, and we both know it.

“Vieni qui,” he demands roughly, his hazel eyes searing as he reaches out his hand and motions for me to come to him.

I shiver, the beautiful lilt of his voice and its roughness gliding across my nerves.

Swallowing, I approach him and let him grab ahold of me, immediately shivering from the feel of his rough skin on mine. He directs me toward the back of the boat, where it’s an open flat ledge.

Somehow that’s even more terrifying.

“Kneel,” he whispers, his voice dipping low and reaching into the pit of my stomach where arousal is blooming.

I’m ready to question him, but then he starts to lower as well, so my body follows along without further question.

“Put your hand in the water,” he directs.

“Fuck no.”

“Nothing is going to come up and bite you. Just feel it.”

Exhaling a shuddering breath, I lean forward and brush my fingertips through the cold water.

“You’re touching an entire universe right now. A microscopic portion of a universe. It’s an ecosystem full of millions of species, some of them you couldn’t even imagine.”

His hands drift to my hips, cupping them in his large palms and squeezing, sending delicious tremors down my spine. “What you’re touching right now is sacred. It’s to be respected.”

Hot breath fans across the shell of my ear, followed by his wicked voice, “It’s to be feared.”

I swallow, my eyes fluttering when his fingers brush up my stomach, eliciting goosebumps. 

A sharp gasp leaves my lips when I see something massive and gray swim beneath the surface. I jump back, bumping into Enzo, but he’s solid stone and doesn’t allow me to get very far.

“Oh my God,” I breathe when a great white shark breaks the surface only mere feet away, swallowing a large chunk of chum in the water.

“There’s another!” I squeal, noticing another great white about ten feet away.

“Mmhm,” he hums deeply, his hands wandering down to the button of my shorts. I can’t decide which to focus on—the terrifying beasts that are several feet away or what Enzo is doing.

Deftly, his fingers slip past my unbuttoned jeans and slide along the waistband of my bottoms, snagging my attention completely. Fuck the sharks, I’m more concerned about the one behind me.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, though I’m not sure if I really care.

In lieu of a response, his thumbs hook into the waistband of my shorts and bathing suit bottoms and he pulls them down as far as they’ll go.

“Take them off,” he orders, voice deeper than the ocean we’re treading on, sending another shiver rolling down my spine. 

“I thought this wasn’t sex,” I say shakily.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“God, no,” I choke out, removing the bottoms the rest of the way and tossing them to the side.

“Good girl,” he purrs, sliding down his own shorts. I feel his length brush across my backside, and my body immediately tightens with visceral need. 

Why can’t he be like the other men?

Mediocre, at best—if I’m lucky. They were so much easier to let go of. To forget about, until someone called me by their name.

“Can you take me, bella ladra?” 

I don’t know what bella ladra means, but I’m too lost in the feel of him dragging his fingers through my pussy to care.

“Yes,” I moan, trembling when I feel the tip of his cock replacing his fingers.

My teeth clamp down on my bottom lip as he slowly pushes inside me, stretching me until the burn is as cathartic as the bruising grip around my hips.

He gives me barely any time to truly adjust and sets a quick, steady pace, pumping inside me until my eyes are crossing. 

“I needed one more time with you,” he rasps. “Ancora una volta.”

Heart in my throat, a choked moan slips past. Adrenaline ignites when one of the sharks splash right in front of the boat, causing my muscles to tighten. Enzo groans in response, feeling my body clench around him.

He drives into me harder and reaches around to slip his fingers between my thighs, circling them over my clit. My head kicks back, and the world around me fades, monsters be damned.

“Do they scare you?” he murmurs.

“Mmm?” I mumble, an orgasm forming in the pit of my stomach. All my focus is on that tightening knot, so desperate for it to snap, yet never wanting it to end. 

“Goddamn, you’re gripping me so fucking tight. Move up,” he demands, grabbing my hips and nudging me forward. I try to resist, but he easily overpowers me. My breath stalls as he coerces me to the very edge of the boat, where two massive sharks swim beneath.

“Enzo,” I breathe, fear filling my bloodstream, yet it only serves to heighten the pleasure streaming throughout my body as he rolls his hips.

My head tips back, a moan working its way out of my throat. I’m so close, and my lungs are depleting of oxygen as he drives me to that edge. I need to breathe desperately, and I won’t be able to as long as he’s inside me. I reach down between my legs to circle my clit, but he stops me.

“Did I say you could come?” he asks darkly.

“Please, I need it,” I plead, my brows pinching.

“Cazzo, I don’t know how you do it,” he groans.

A gasp leaves my lips when his hand reaches around and seizes me by the throat, pulling me into him until my back is molded to his chest.

“Tell me how,” he murmurs in my ear, his voice hardening. Even with an orgasm on the horizon, an alarm starts ringing in the back of my head when his hand tightens.

“How what?” I choke out, his thrusts becoming more savage.

“Tell me how you can fuck me so easily knowing that you’ve stolen from me.”

My eyes widen, and though my body turns solid stone, he doesn’t stop rolling his hips.

He knows. He’s known this whole time. And I walked right into his trap like an idiot.

“It’s like you’re fucking begging for me to break you.”

A whimper breaks through the constrictive barrier his hand is creating around my windpipe, and my hands fly to his, clawing at them to release me. He doesn’t stop thrusting, and despite the terror beginning to take over, I’m still on the precipice of coming. 

“You want to draw blood, baby?” he breathes, forcing my head back until his lips are poised over mine.

“I can do worse,” he whispers, rolling his hips again, his cock hitting a spot that has my eyes threatening to roll. I force them ahead, desperately trying to bring myself away from oblivion, but he’s making it impossible when he hits… fuck, when he hits that spot there.

“Let me go,” I wheeze, scraping my nails harder.

“I said I’d give you a kiss for coming with me, didn’t I? Unlike you, I’m not a fucking liar.”

And just as the last word slips from his mouth, his teeth clamp onto my bottom lip and bite. Hard.

I squeal, thrashing against him as copper fills my mouth. This isn’t a fucking kiss. It feels like he’s trying to sever my goddamn lip from my face. He rips himself away, breathing heavily, my blood smeared across his chin. 

I’m gasping for breath, terror constricting my chest from the feral look on his face. He’s fucking scaring me, and as his eyes zero in on my bleeding lip, I have a sick feeling he hasn’t even begun to truly scare me yet. 

“Such a pretty sight, to see you bleed for me,” he rasps. “I don’t think I’m the only thing that’ll love it, though.”

 Before his words can be processed, he’s forcing my head down. Immediately, his intentions become clear. My eyes widen as a horror unlike anything I’ve ever felt grabs ahold of me. Of my heart, my lungs, my entire fucking being. 

“No, no, no, NO…” I scream, fighting like my life depends on it because my life does depend on it.

“You wanted to be a shark expert, baby girl? You wanted to take that from me? Then you gotta learn how to fucking swim with them.”

My pleas are cut off as he finally pushes my head into the water. My eyes open, immediately burning from the salt, but I hardly notice. Not when I see the blood from my lip swirling within the seawater. 

The water where two massive great white sharks are lurking.

I desperately thrash against him, feeling like the predator in the water is going to come up any second and bite me. Meanwhile, Enzo continues to move inside me, his other hand bruising on my hip.

Just when my vision begins to blacken, he’s lifting my head up, and I suck in a harsh breath, my eyes wide with hysteria. Still, he roughly fucks me while I heave in precious oxygen.

“The taste of you is fucking addicting, I must admit,” he purrs in my ear. “Let them taste you, too, baby.”

“Wait,” I choke, the word overpowered by a wet cough. My nails score into his thighs, but I can feel him beginning to push my head back down. “Wait!”

All I can manage is another scream before he’s shoving my head back underwater.

My heart is beating erratically, and I thrash in his hold again but only achieve drowning myself faster. Water fills my lungs, and oh God, I feel the pulse of water moving. Like something massive is heading right toward me—and fast, too.

For the second time, he’s pulling me out of the water, and I’m immediately heaving in air, choking on it, and hacking up water.

A sob bursts from my throat, tears streaming down my cheeks and mixing with the water pouring down my face from my drenched hair.

“Enzo! P-please, don’t let them—”

“Don’t worry, baby, they’re not the ones you should be afraid of.”

Before I can get another word out, he’s forcing me back down again. My eyes snap open, and this time I do see something move beneath the surface. It’s blurry, but it’s fast. And it’s shooting up from the depths of the ocean, aiming straight for me.

Enzo moves inside me quicker and then suddenly pulls out. Just barely do I feel something wet splash onto my back, but I’m far more concerned about the predator seconds away from taking me under.

Just as I’m convinced that I’m going to be eaten alive, he yanks my head out of the water again. Once more, I’m heaving in air, choking on it, and coughing as my eyes bug from my head.

Seconds later, the shark bursts through the surface right where my head had been, bashing into the boat, its mouth open as it searches for its prey.

I scream, scrambling back into Enzo as the boat rocks violently. He gets to his feet, dragging me backward, then drops me, leaving me hyperventilating. I’m still drowning, but only in absolute terror.

I cough up more water and pitifully crawl away. There’s nowhere for me to go, but I’m moving on autopilot, and the only thing I’m desperate for more than oxygen is to get the fuck away from the edge of the boat.

The vessel rocks from when the shark bashed into it, but it barely registers. Tears are spilling from my eyes, I’m still naked from the waist down, and I’m pretty sure he came all over my back. I feel… I don’t know, but I do know that nothing has ever made me feel worse.

Nothing.

Enzo is leaning against the glass wall that leads to the scuba gear, dressed once more, with his arms and legs crossed and tongue in his cheek as he stares at me stoically. As if he didn’t just get off while he held me underwater. 

Avoiding his eyes, my bottom lip violently trembles as I grab my bathing suit bottoms and slip them back on, at a loss for words.

Maybe I deserved that. Maybe I deserve worse.

I’ve stolen from so many people—fucked with so many lives, and caused a lot of grief. I know that.

So, I keep my mouth shut, grab my jean shorts, and wipe my back down as best I can before slipping them on. I’m berating myself for leaving my phone in my van, even if it’s completely useless right now. His credit card is still in the back pocket, the outline of it searing against the fabric as he watches me clean off his release. I’d rather my clothes be covered in him than my skin. 

Then, I huddle in the corner, praying he’ll just take me back. I don’t really have a home, but right now, anything but here will suffice.

“Why’d you do it?” he asks finally, devoid of emotion. I shiver, the ice in his voice colder than the water he drowned me in.

I glance at him, my eyes on fire from the salt.

“I’ll pay you back,” I croak. My throat is also on fire, and my words come out broken and hoarse.

His brow furrows. “You can’t stop lying, can you?”

 Red crawls up my cheeks, embarrassed because he’s right. I would run before I ever did the right thing. “How much did you charge on the credit card?”

My shoulders hike to my ears, ashamed. “Less than a grand, I think.”

His lips flatten. “Ever heard of getting—”

“A job? Yes, I have. I may live out of a van, but I don’t live under a rock,” I snap, growing tired of his questions. I may owe him money, an apology, and maybe even a couple of years in jail—but I don’t owe him an explanation.

Or maybe I do, but that’s the one thing I won’t give him.

“I could have you arrested.”

I shrug and mutter, “I guess then maybe I can stop running.”

He narrows his eyes, once more staring at me as he contemplates something.

“You’re wanted for your crimes, aren’t you? That’s why you can’t get a real job.”

I tighten my lips and say, “Yep.”

I’ve worked under-the-table jobs before, but most places require socials, IDs, and conduct background checks. I’m not stupid enough to use another person’s name, and I sure as hell can’t use my own.

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Why not just get a job at sixteen like a normal fucking person? Why even dig yourself in a hole like that to begin with?”

I glare at him and conjure the energy to stand. Oxygen flows through my lungs like they were never full of water, but I’m still shaking like a leaf.

“You know nothing about me. If you want to think I’m a petty criminal who only does it for the thrill, fine. But don’t insult us both by making ignorant assumptions about me.”

He snarls, and my stomach tightens with fear. The sharks seemed to have grown bored and are wandering off, but that doesn’t mean he still can’t throw me overboard and let them find me again.

Glowering, he runs a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated.

“Was I calling you by another man’s name this entire time? When I fucked you?”

Again, my stomach tightens, only for different reasons. Namely, because any reminder of him inside me has my face burning, and I hate that because of what he just did to me. And how badly I still feel humiliated. 

I look down, and that’s answer enough.

“What’s your real name?” he demands.

I don’t want to tell him. There’s a chance I can escape once we get on land. Make a run for it and somehow slip from his fingers. I can find somewhere else to hide in Australia until I’m ready to risk flying again.

There’s still a chance of survival, and if he wants to figure out my name after I’m well and gone, all the power to him. I’m sure there are plenty of articles about me, though he won’t find many truths in those, either.

When I continue to hesitate, he stalks toward me, causing my muscles to stiffen and my throat to thicken.

I stumble away from him, but I’m already backed into the corner, leaning against the side of the boat. He advances until he’s pressed into me, his arms trapping me against his heated body.

“Guardami,” he orders sharply.

I shake my head, not understanding him but knowing that whatever it is, I don’t want to do it. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth in an effort to hide how it quivers.

Enzo reaches up and grips my jaw, forcing my eyes to him. Snarling, I still try to put distance between us, but his strength prevails over my weak attempt.

“I want to know the name I should’ve been moaning that night.”

Tears are rising again. Not because he’s hurting me, but because I see my chances of getting away slipping through my fingers like water in my palms.

Screwing my eyes shut, a tear slips through, but they quickly pop open when he leans forward and gently kisses the tear. Pulling away, he licks the droplet off his lips.

“Those tears—they’re mine now. And I’ll pull plenty more out of you if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”

Jesus. Fucking psychopath.

“Candace,” I bark out.

“Last name?”

I stutter, unable to think of anything quick enough.

His lips slide along my cheek, whispering, “I’m getting impatient, baby.”

Tears swim in my eyes, and as badly as I want to give him another false name, all I can think is that lying about my name isn’t worth getting eaten alive over.

“Sawyer,” I rush out finally, followed by another useless attempt to pull my face out of his grip.

“Sawyer,” he repeats slowly, my name sounding like roses and chocolate on his tongue. “Is that another lie, bella ladra?”

“No,” I snap.

“Last name?”

“Bennett,” I mutter.

He hums, something poised on the tip of his tongue, but then his eyes are snapping above my head.

“Fuck,” he curses, ripping himself away from me and hurrying toward where he dropped the anchor.

Confused, I turn around, wondering what the hell could make him react like that—and then immediately wish I hadn’t.

The horizon is nearly black. Storm clouds are coming in fast, and from here, I can see the waves growing choppier and bigger. The water beneath us has already become more turbulent, though I’m sure this is mild compared to what’s ahead.

“Enzo?” I call out, concerned and wary. My poor heart can’t take all this stress. I still haven’t recovered from nearly getting my head bitten off by a shark, and now this.

“Let me concentrate,” he snaps, working on pulling up the anchor. Just as he says that, a strike of lightning appears in the quickly approaching storm, yanking a gasp from my throat.

Despite our very concerning situation, I want to fucking laugh. So badly, I want to laugh.

A smile cracks on my face when he throws the heavy metal on the boat and rushes toward the wheel. He catches sight of my face but doesn’t let up on his mission.

“Something funny, Sawyer?” he asks, ensuring to use my name. I don’t know if it’s to reassert power, or what, but it has the smile slipping from my face like melted wax.

“You brought me out here to make me think I’m going to die. And now look, we’re both going to die.”