I paced Ryan and Natalia’s living room, checking my messages for the hundredth time that hour. Still no response from Enzo, which wasn’t like him. Of course, it wasn’t like him to leave the restaurant during the dinner rush, either. One text to Ryan with orders to bring me to their house instead of letting me go home. Radio silence in the last three hours.
“What do you think that guy told him? That’s all that makes sense as to why Enzo would just leave and ignore my calls and texts.” I faced my worried sister and her husband, who were on the couch, watching me. “I know you said you don’t personally know this Jesse guy, but—”
“If he’s who I think he is, yes, we have mutual friends. His sister is married to a SEAL. And his wife’s brother is a Team Guy as well,” Ryan finished for me, sharing the same sliver of information he’d given me earlier on our drive to their home in Waxhaw, our small hometown, not far from the restaurant. The paint was barely dry on the walls. They’d moved in only last month. It’d taken six months to build, but they’d wanted it finished before their son was born.
“Could you call one of those SEALs? See if they know anything?” The question felt crazy, but I’d already been ripped apart watching Chiara cry over FaceTime that evening being away from me, and now this.
Enzo had sent me to orgasm heaven, and one visit from an old friend of his and I felt firmly planted in hell. The not knowing was what I couldn’t handle. My overthinking brain was overheating from creating far too many what-if scenarios.
Ryan looked at his Apple Watch as if deciding whether calling up a SEAL at eleven at night was a shit idea or not. “Let’s give Enzo a chance to call us back and see what he—” He stopped midsentence when Natalia’s phone buzzed on her thigh, nearly falling to the floor.
“Is it Enzo?” I dropped onto the couch next to her to try and see the screen.
“I don’t recognize the number,” my sister responded. “Do I answer?”
“Speakerphone,” Ryan instructed.
“It’s Constantine Costa,” he said once she answered. “How are you?”
My stomach dropped, and my sister looked at me with wide eyes.
“Not so great, considering you’re calling me after eleven, and not only have you never called me before, I didn’t know you had my number,” Natalia quickly responded, and Ryan set his hand on her knee.
“This is about Enzo,” I rushed out. “Right?” My heart hammered in my chest. Thwacking hard. “Some guy came to the restaurant tonight; then Enzo up and left without a word. What’s happening? Is he okay?”
“Hi, Maria,” Constantine responded after a deep breath over the line. “Listen, I’m calling to let you know Alessandro and I plan to fly down tomorrow as soon as we can. Probably in the afternoon. We’re coming to get him. But in the meantime, I need someone I trust to keep an eye on him.”
Keep an eye on him? Fly here? I was back on my feet again.
“Why? What’s going on?” It was Ryan this time, and his concerned gaze sharp on her phone did nothing for my sanity.
I checked my texts, praying for the read receipt to appear so I’d at least know Enzo saw my message.
Nothing.
“Enzo received some disturbing news tonight, and I need to investigate it. Make sense of it. That’s all I’m going to share right now. I’ll let him tell you if he wants to.” Constantine and his cryptic words weren’t helping. “Can someone go over to his place and stay with him? He’s not in the best state of mind, and I haven’t seen my brother drink like this since Bianca died,” he added in a low voice, and the blood rushed from my face.
“We’re on our way,” Natalia said without hesitation, holding her stomach as she stood with Ryan’s help.
“Thank you,” Constantine solemnly said.
“Of course.” I was glad my sister was more put together than I was, capable of fluid responses.
Was Enzo drunk? Constantine was right. I’d never seen him have more than one or two drinks. It made sense, though. Enzo hated losing control.
“I’d offer to go alone, but I know you’ll both give me a hard time.” Ryan snatched his truck keys.
“Damn straight we would,” Natalia fired back, and Ryan grumbled something too low for me to hear, and we followed him to the garage.
It was a quiet thirty-minute drive into the city, only the soft tunes of country music to keep us company while I was lost in my thoughts.
The second we were in my building and on my floor, every intrusive what if buzzing around in my head stopped. Anticipation grabbed hold of me, sinking its teeth into my flushed skin.
“I know the navy trained me to be a professional door kicker,” Ryan said once we were by Enzo’s place, “but tell me one of you has a key so I don’t have to knock this thing down.”
“Assuming he won’t answer?” Natalia asked while producing a key before I had a chance to go for the one on my key chain.
“Affirmative,” Ryan gruffly said, accepting the key from her, and then he didn’t bother to knock or ring.
The sight that greeted the three of us once Ryan opened up wasn’t one I’d prepared myself to see.
The living room was dimly lit by a fire, and Enzo stood in front of his wall of windows with one arm propped over his head, gaze set on the city. He had on a pair of black sweats that hung low on his hips, just the white strip from his boxers visible. His back muscles were on full display, showcasing a lone tattoo on his right shoulder. Even though he knew he was no longer alone, he’d yet to move.
“Enzo,” I hesitantly called out, surprised I could get my voice to work.
“My brother shouldn’t have called you,” Enzo returned in a low tone as he slowly faced us, holding a bottle of something at his side. His eyes locked on to Ryan standing by Natalia just inside the living room. “And you shouldn’t have brought her here. I told you to keep her away from me.”
“Wait, what?” I looked to Ryan for an explanation. That wasn’t remotely close to what he’d told me Enzo had texted him at the restaurant earlier. “What’s going on?” I asked, returning my focus to the angry man before me.
Enzo slowly stalked closer to us, bringing the bottle to his lips as he did so. My gaze skated from the ink above his heart, down the hard planes of his abdominal wall, to the vee that disappeared into his black sweats.
Somehow, this was the first time I’d ever seen him without a shirt, and I was taken aback by how strong and hard he truly was. God, the man was positively breathtaking.
We’d never so much as hung out at a pool or beach together, well, not since we were kids. And yeah, he looked a hell of a lot different at thirty-seven than he did at seventeen.
“You need to take your pregnant wife home,” Enzo told Ryan in a clipped tone. “You all need to leave.”
“Something is wrong, and your brother sent us. We’re not going anywhere,” Natalia firmly said. “Talk to us. Let us help.”
The dark laugh leaving Enzo’s mouth had me walking back. “Help me?” He chugged more from the bottle. Most likely whiskey.
“Watch yourself, man,” Ryan warned. “We may be friends, but if you piss off my pregnant wife and upset her, I won’t hesitate to lay you the fuck out.” He stepped before his wife like a shield, and honestly, I had no clue who’d win in a head-to-head match, but I knew neither Natalia nor I wanted to find out.
Enzo only smirked as if he wanted the challenge. “I’m in the mood to fight or to . . .” His gaze cut to me, and I heard the unspoken f-word sail through the air and knock the breath from my lungs.
Natalia hooked her arm through her husband’s, and I recognized that as her silent request not to tango with Enzo tonight.
“You’re drunk,” Ryan said, arms going across his chest. “Sleep it off. Tell us what’s going on in the morning. But we’re not leaving.”
Enzo remained quiet as he drank more, his gaze lingering on me as he did so.
I faced Natalia and pleaded, “I need to talk to him alone.”
“I’m his best friend. I’m not leaving,” Natalia insisted.
“And he’s my . . .” I looked over my shoulder to find him at the window, his back to us again. My what? “Take my keys and go next door. You’ve been on your feet all night. You should sleep. Stay in my room.” I snatched my keys from my purse before tossing the small bag onto the armchair by the couch with no plans to leave.
Natalia exchanged a look with Ryan, searching for what to do.
“Please.” I shoved the keys into Ryan’s hand. “I can handle this.” I nodded, hoping to convince the both of them.
I honestly had no clue if I could handle a drunk, angry Enzo, but I was certain he’d throw us all out on our asses in a minute if I didn’t reduce the number of us in the room.
Natalia stole a quick look at the brooding man by the window, then squeezed my forearm. “We’ll be right next door if you need us.”
“Thank you,” I mouthed.
“Don’t be an ass, Enzo. Talk to her,” Ryan bit out before he and Natalia left, and once the door thudded shut, I started for the fire, unsure what to do next.
“Stop,” Enzo commanded. “There’s glass over there.”
I went still and looked at the fireplace, where I’d barely noticed the shards of glass. From the looks of it, he’d angrily hurled more than one glass. “Talk to me,” I begged, slowly turning, not expecting to see him inches away, his gaze on me.
The light from the fire bounced off his hard features, and I flinched when he reached out and ran a finger up the column of my throat before tipping my chin. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“But I am.” I hoped he wouldn’t notice the nervous swallow, but the slight tip of his head with his eyes focused on my throat meant he had. “Why are you drunk? Why are your brothers flying here?”
He closed his eyes and his hand fell back to his side. He started to bring the bottle to his mouth, but I reached for his forearm, an attempt to stop him. His eyes flashed open, catching mine, and his lips hardened as if I’d defied him.
“Always playing with fire. What will I ever do with you?” he murmured instead of answering me. He pulled his arm away and brought the rim of the bottle to my lips. “Want a taste, baby?”
I had to remind myself he’d been drinking, and I’d never experienced this man at anything less than 100 percent in control. I had no idea what to expect.
He dragged the bottle tip along the line of my lips, forcing them to part, and I was certain he wanted to see my lips wrapped around something and it wasn’t the bottle. And I shouldn’t have been aroused by that fact. Because the unspoken reason why he was drinking from the bottle still hung in the air between us.
“I want you to stop drinking so you can talk to me. Sober up first if you have to, but—”
“If you want me to stop drinking, then you’ll need to distract me.” He lowered the bottle to his side.
I wet my lips, growing both hotter and more nervous by the second. “How do you propose I do that?”
The side of his lips hitched. “Tell me about that list of yours. What’s on it?” He turned and went to the window, but he set his back to it instead of looking out at the city.
“Why would you care about that right now?” I crossed the space and boldly took the bottle from him, and he didn’t stop me. Once the whiskey was at a safe distance away from him, I returned to find him with the back of his head against the glass, eyes steadily on me.
“I’m angry. If you don’t want me leaving this apartment and unleashing hell on the first fucker who crosses me,” he began while shoving away from the window to stalk closer to me with confident strides, “then distract me.”
“With the list?”
He stopped before me and gently cupped my cheek, a contrast to the asshole-like attitude he was trying to portray. “What’s number five? Does it go that high?” A dark smile cut across his mouth.
“Higher,” I whispered, captivated by the powerful man before me, ready to bend to his will when I normally loved to challenge him at every turn.
“So?” He angled his head, waiting. “Number five?”
Dizzy with need but knowing I’d never act on it, given his state, I closed my eyes, and my entire body heated as I admitted the truth. “That you take me, well, um . . .”
His hand slid into my hair, and he gripped my locks to draw my face closer. I could feel his whiskey breath near my lips, but I didn’t give him my gaze like I knew he wanted. “Your ex wouldn’t know what to do with an ass like yours. You’ve never been taken there, have you, Tesoro?” He grabbed hold of my ass, and a shuddery gasp fell from my lips at the feel of his rock-hard cock pressing against me.
“No.” That hadn’t been what I’d planned to say, but maybe it should’ve been on the list? “You’d be the first.”
“Good.” He surprised me by dropping his mouth over mine, only to lightly nip my lower lip as he squeezed my ass, and then he released both my lip and flesh and eased back a step.
I blinked free from my stupor a moment later when realization struck me. “I’m not distracting you.” My hand went to his chest. “You’re trying to distract me. You don’t want me to know something.”
He dipped his chin to look at my palm over his heart.
“Tell me what Jesse said to you. Who is he really?”
He smirked, his hard gaze meeting mine again. “John Wick.”
“Real funny.” I thought back to the man I’d met earlier tonight in the parking lot. “I didn’t know John wore flannel.” I tensed at the fact he didn’t seem to be joking about John Wick. “If he’s a contract killer, are you?”
“No, I’m a chef.” His tone was softer than I’d expected that time.
“And before?”
“Go home, Maria. I’m not doing this tonight. Everything is about to change, and I need one night to—”
“Fall apart before it does?” And what is going to change? I wanted to cry, to beg him for the answers he didn’t want to give me.
“Yes,” he hissed, his chin angrily jutting out. “So leave me alone and let me fall the fuck apart.”
I shook my head. “No, I won’t let you do that.”
“Stay here and watch it happen or go. Those are your choices.” When he tried to turn, to escape, I hooked the waistband of his pants with my finger and tugged.
He slowly turned, zeroing in on my face as if he were on the verge of putting me in my place. Quite literally. And I knew where I longed to be. With him. Or maybe beneath him.
But not tonight. I’d never let him take me while he was drunk—not because I didn’t want it but because he’d never forgive himself for it afterward.
“Fire,” he mouthed, as if warning me I was on the verge of getting burned. “Hell is my playground, not yours.”
“Then give me an invitation,” I snapped back, tears in my eyes. “Because if you’re there right now, then I want to be, too.”
“No, you don’t.”
His dark smile only emboldened me. “Don’t tell me what I want.”
“You think what you learned this morning is bad, it’s just the tip of the iceberg, sweetheart. You wouldn’t walk away from me if you knew everything. You’d run.”
“I don’t believe you.” Well, not about the running part, at least. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, so go ahead, give me your best shot. Try and push me away with details about your past and watch me take two steps closer instead.”
His lips lifted, showing a hint of his teeth as he hissed like a wounded, frightened animal in the wild.
But silence was all he gave me. He really is scared I’ll leave him, isn’t he?
“Fine,” I grumbled, realizing he had no plans to share. “You want a distraction?” I pointed to his bedroom. “Then give me number six.”
His expression softened. “What’s number six?”
“I’ll show you.” I huffed out a breath, flicked off the switch for the gas fireplace, then walked into his bedroom and turned on the light.
I spun around to see him hanging just outside his room with his arms folded while he leaned into the interior doorframe, eyes steady on me.
“Tell me.” His gaze walked up the length of me, landing last on my lips.
“You need to get off, right? I know we can’t have sex tonight, but I also don’t want you going outside and ‘unleashing hell,’ as you called it, so . . . take a shower and get off. Maybe it’ll help sober you up a little.”
“What’s that have to do with your list?”
I peeled off my top and tossed it. My tank top went next. He’d seen me in a bra the other day, but he’d never seen me seen me. I went for the clip of my black satin bra, and he kept quiet, watching me but not stopping me. When I freed my tits from the uncomfortable underwire, he pushed away from the doorframe and strode closer, and my breathing only picked up. Hard, hot, and fast.
“What are you doing?” He palmed his dick over his sweats, more than likely not realizing he was doing it as he approached me.
“I’m giving you something to look at while you release all that tension,” I explained, feeling a little crazy.
“And that’s on your list? Watching me stroke my cock without participating?” He reached for me, drawing my chin into his large hand, guiding my eyes up.
I nodded. “You’re telling me you’ve never thought about me while you get off? Because you’re all I can think about when I touch myself.”
His brows slanted as he lowered his eyes to my breasts, and my nipples weren’t just hard because I was chilly. That dark, heated look in his eyes had goose bumps forming all over my exposed skin. “They say that the more orgasms you have, the longer you live,” he remarked.
“They do, do they?”
He cupped my breast with his free hand. “You know what that means?” He pinched my nipple, and I chewed on my lip so I didn’t cry out from the pleasure of his touch. The walls were thin, and my sister and brother-in-law were next door. “I’ll live for an eternity from the number of times I’ve beat off thinking about you.”
My legs tightened on reflex at his confession, and I had to remind myself he was under the influence so I didn’t launch myself into his arms.
“So will you give me number six?” I forced my eyes to meet his, and he slid his tongue along the seam of his lips as he rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting yet another moan from me.
“I’m curious how you went from me taking your ass as number five to watching me jerk off for number six. Feels out of order.” A sly smile slid across his lips, almost as if he’d forgotten all about whatever darkness was weighing him down.
“My list isn’t exactly arranged on a kink scale from one to ten.” Not that number five had been that, but still.
A torn look crossed his face.
“So?” I arched a brow and set my hand over the one cupping my chin. “Will you?”
“Yes,” he said as his hand slid over my mouth, and I kissed his palm. “Tonight . . . I’ll give you whatever you want.”
