Page 115 of Fallen Rook

I hadn’t lied to Enzo.

When I made love to him the other day, it wasn’t Matt I was thinking about. It was the very thing I knew I’d be doing the next day—sealing the deal with the informant, and thereby, Enzo’s fate.

And I was completely forthcoming about our sexual chemistry, too. Matt and I had been good. But Enzo and I… We were something else. They had yet to invent a word for what we were.

Whatever that word might be, I was about to lose it when Enzo found out what was going on. But for the here and now, I still had him.

We settled into a nice routine. Every day after work, I went to see him or vice versa. We slipped through back doors, met in dingy alleyways, and made sure to never be seen or caught.

I was in the office, clearing up some admin work before meeting him, when I decided to check his Instagram. I still checked his socials once a day, but now only as a form of entertainment.

Sliding a finger over the screen, I realized I was holding my breath.

He’d posted a new photo to his Instagram grid.

The time stamp showed thirty-nine seconds since he posted it.

Fine. Perhaps I didn’t check his Instagram once a day. More like once a minute.

His tags, too.

Who the fuck tagged a private, hot man they didn’t know, anyway? People had no boundaries these days.

I drank in the vision of him, a mixture of excitement, joy, and sickening jealousy taking over me. Each time he posted something on Instagram, it felt like a personal slight against me, because he was sharing himself with the world when he should only belong to—

Stop. Don’t fucking finish it. Not even in your head.

It was a close-up of Enzo’s crotch—with his sweatpants on, thank God—and his tattooed hand holding a very prominent outline of his huge, erect cock. The happy trail of straight, thin pubes and his veiny, muscled lower abs peeked through the photo. I gulped every bit of it like it was oxygen.

The black Gothic butterfly tattoo on the back of his hand.

The golden pinky ring and the forefinger ring with the skull on it.

I dragged my eyes to the caption, my entire body buzzing with adrenaline.

My boo doesn’t want this . Any takers?

#letmein #freewilly #ipromiseillbegood

My breath shortened, and I felt my ears heating.

He wanted to fuck me this bad?

How could I be so opposed to something I hadn’t even tried?

And…did I really have a choice?

I wanted to keep him as long as I could.

At any cost.

And if it took getting fucked to achieve my objective, I’d do it.

With a groan, I opened our chat box. I wanted to call him, hear his voice, but it was too risky.

Me: You’re a pain in the ass.

Butterfly: If this isn’t an invitation to fuck you, I don’t know what is…