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The small-town guy all the girls adored. Part jock, part nerd, and part all-around nice guy from a family everyone wanted to be a part of.
Including me.
The two sides of him don’t seem at odds right now. There’s just one Enzo tonight, and he’s mine.
“I’ve missed you too,” I admit freely, already feeling myself begin to clench around his hand. “The door,” I manage, reminding him we’re in a somewhat public place, one of his hands trapping my wrists above my head, his other deep beneath my dress.
The elevator begins to stop.
“Enzo—”
I can’t manage to finish the rest of my sentence.
If you don’t stop, I won’t be able to.
In response, he redoubles his efforts as the elevator comes to a full halt.
“I won’t move until you come,” he says with unshakable confidence.
“But . . .” I can’t speak as the doors begin to open.What if someone is on the other side?I mean to say, but the words don’t come.
He lets go of my arms, but that’s his only concession. I grab his navy sports coat with both hands, clutching it as the spasms come.
Somehow I’m able to gather myself enough to glance out as the doors open. Enzo doesn’t even bother to turn and look. Thankfully, no one’s waiting in the hall.
Full-on clenching around his fingers, I cry out, hardly able to stand.
Only then does he pull his hand away, turning just in time to hold the doors open. I don’t join him. Instead, I stand there, back against the wall, staring back at him.
The elevator alarm begins to ring, which makes Enzo smile.
“Need some help?” He reaches for me, still holding the door, and I pull my dress down and take his hand. When the doors close behind us and the alarm stops ringing, I pause.
“I could use a second.”
Without missing a beat, Enzo reaches for my legs and scoops me up like it’s nothing.
“Sorry, don’t have a second,” he says, stopping to look at the numbers. He turns right, presumably toward our room. “That was just an appetizer,” he says.
Being in his arms, being carried by him . . . somehow it’s even more amazing than the orgasm he gave me.
What the hell was I stressing about earlier, anyway?
Things are perfect. Beyond perfect. Never better, in fact.
Because I’m in Enzo’s arms, and this, I’m figuring out, is exactly where I’m meant to be.
29
Chari
“Don’t freak out.”
Devon insisted on having dinner with me, and not at the house. Like he actually suggested we go to Deluca’s II. So it’s not exactly a surprise that he has something monumental to tell me. But still.
“That’s a great segue, Dev,” I say.
Devon pops a mozzarella stick into his mouth and mutters something unintelligible. No wonder he doesn’t have a girlfriend. My brother’s manners leave something to be desired, which is odd being that we were raised in the same house. Although I have noticed a few things, including new additions to my brother’s wardrobe. I’ll have to keep my eye out for future developments.
