Sleeping With the Enemy

Sequel: Chapter Seven

Gemma

"No, babe," Ben shook his head. "You're swinging too soft. Like this."

He stood in front of the golf ball, the club cradled in his hands, his hips doing this awful little shake. I cursed myself for ever agreeing to this as he took a swing at the ball. It went a measly hundred yards into the driving range and Ben turned around like he was Tiger Woods or something.

Did he not know how obnoxious he looked? And why did he have to keep calling me babe?

"Oh, I think I get it now." I pressed my lips into a firm smile. I didn't, but I had about all of his teaching I could take. We had four more hours of this? Maybe I could fake an injury or something.

The only satisfaction I was getting from this entire thing was the bitter scowl on Anthony's face. Brow furrowed, his hardened jaw set, eyes as piercing as daggers. He had one leg propped up against the tree trunk he was leaning against and his arms folded incredulously across his chest. Jesus, he was sexy when he was mad. He knew that, though, and he was trying to distract me from my mission here.

I was still angry with him for the whole episode at the pool party, and that was why I agreed to come when Ben called last night. I hated golf, and I wasn't all that fond of Ben either, but making Anthony uncomfortable, now that excited me. In more ways than one.

"Why don't you practice a few more times and I'll go grab us a few beers for the cart? We tee off in fifteen minutes." He swiped a quick kiss across my cheek and headed toward the clubhouse.

Reluctantly, I grabbed a random club from the bag I borrowed from my mom. One more swing wouldn't help anything, but it wouldn't hurt either.

I lined up just like Ben explained and took a full force swing. Miraculously, the club connected with the ball, but it shot off to the side. This was pointless.

"He's wrong, you know." Anthony left his post, slowly walking toward me.

I rolled my eyes. "About what, exactly?"

"Swinging harder." He said. "It's not about how hard you swing; it's about the weight transfer."

"Weight transfer?" I arched an eyebrow. Now he was giving me golf tips? Did all men think they knew everything, or was it just the ones I seemed to attract?

"Here." He took the club out of my hand and lined up himself. "Start back and move forward. Kind of like a pendulum."

Anthony swung at the ball. It popped off the face of the club and went soaring through the air, straight as an arrow and nearly over the fence at the end of the range.

I pursed my lips, trying not to seem as impressed as I was.

"Give it a shot." Anthony handed me back the club.

I set up again, and just as I got set, Anthony's arms slid around me. I froze, staring straight down as he wrapped his hands around mine on the club, leaning over my shoulder so close that I could feel the cool mint of his breath against my ear. He pressed against me, and I could hardly breathe. Could he feel how hot I was getting? How fast my heart was beating?

"You just take you arms back like this..." He moved our arms back in unison and then brought them forward. The ball trickled off the tee, but at least it was straight.

"Better." Anthony instructed, still pressed against my body. The electricity that pulsed between us felt so strong that I couldn't even pull away if I wanted to. How was it possible to be as equally irritated as I was turned on by a guy? Anthony was pushy and annoying at every turn, but then a switch flipped inside of me and my body was literally aching for him to touch me.