Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
WINTER
Why did I insist on doing this?
Why did I keep pushing Enzo to go along with my plan?
It seemed so logical before. All the reasons I came up with were sound. Even though I was scared, I still thought it was our best option.
But that was before. When I was considering this, everything was different.
When I thought about this before, I was cuddled on the couch with Enzo, or working in the brightly-lit office, or having coffee in the kitchen while the sun warmed the room, chasing away any hint of haunting shadows.
I didn’t realize how different it would feel when it’s actually happening.
I didn’t realize I’d be taken right back to those early days at Thomas’s house, when he locked me in the bedroom and wouldn’t allow me a light because he didn’t trust me not to use it as a weapon. Like I was somehow going to get the jump on him with the jagged edges of a broken lightbulb or the flimsy aluminum lamp.
Although. I would have tried. In those early days, I would have tried anything.
Logically, I know the pantry is safe. I watched Alec and Enzo set it up—replacing the old wooden door with a heavy-duty steel one, cutting a hole in the floor and installing a trapdoor, and tucking a box of weapons behind the boxes of old dishes.
Logically, I know Enzo and Ronan and Gage are far more skilled than Thomas. Thomas is big and mean and throws a nasty punch, but that doesn’t mean he’s a match for a group of former Special Forces.
Enzo’s out there with night vision goggles and several guns, and I’ve seen him shoot—there’s not a target he can’t hit. Not a small can set on a stump two hundred feet away, not a leaf blowing in the wind fifty feet ahead, and definitely not the moving targets he sets up in the woods for practice. If he’s threatened, he can protect himself.
I know this. But in the pantry, shadows creeping everywhere, the only sounds my shaky breathing and thundering pulse, it’s easy to let doubt slip in.
My imagination is on a terrible rampage. Worst-case scenarios keep hitting me, each one worse than the last.
Like Thomas showing up with a group of his dirtbag friends, all of them with guns, opening fire before Enzo has a chance to take cover.
Or Gage having a flashback—he admitted it to me the other day, not saying why, but just that he understood—and Thomas hurting him before he snaps out of it.
Enzo and his friends are honorable, but Thomas isn’t. Enzo would give Thomas a chance to surrender, but I fear Thomas wouldn’t hesitate to shoot right away.
God. What if Enzo is hurt? Killed?
It would be all my fault. He didn’t want this. It’s all because of me.
If not for me, Thomas would probably have moved on. Enzo’s store wouldn’t be a target anymore, not with all the security upgrades to it.
If I wasn’t staying here, blatantly exposing myself, Enzo wouldn’t be outside putting himself in danger to protect me.
I only realize I’m crying when I taste the tears on my lips.
The fear is overwhelming.
My stomach is lodged somewhere in my esophagus, and bile burns the back of my throat.
I can’t stop shaking.
Why did I want this?
If not for my stubborn insistence, I’d still be asleep in Enzo’s arms. We’d wake up as the sun streamed into the living room, cuddling and kissing and we’d have our coffee and talk about our plans for the day and maybe tonight would be the night I’d finally make my move.
I almost did last night. Why didn’t I? Did I really think I wasn’t ready?
How could I doubt Enzo? He’s not like anyone else I’ve met. Enzo is everything I want in a man—trustworthy, kind, quietly sensitive, confident without being cocky, smart, funny, and he’s so handsome he takes my breath away. And he’s so protective, which is something I never thought I needed, but now I absolutely love it.
Crap. Now I’m crying even harder.
I can feel myself spiraling into a dark and empty place, where all my courage and independence are nothing but a memory. All that remains is panic and a desperate and hopeless wish that I could turn back time and call this whole thing off.
But.
Stop panicking.
Do the breathing exercises Enzo showed me one of the first days I was here, after I nearly hyperventilated after a flashback.
Don’t fall apart.
As I concentrate on breathing—four seconds in, four seconds hold, four seconds out—I dig my nails into my palms until the pain steadies me.
Enzo will be back. I trust him. He promised.
I just wish I knew how long it’s been.
In the hurry to hide, there wasn’t time to grab my phone or watch.
I tuck that away for the future—add clock to pantry slash panic room—and swallow back a snort at the ridiculous thought. As if I’ll be hiding in here again?
God. I hope not.
In the absence of a clock to watch, I start counting. My tears are still coming, but they’re leaking instead of flowing in torrents. I try to match my breathing to the counts—four, eight, twelve, sixteen…
One plea keeps repeating in my head. Please be okay.
I’ve just broken five hundred when a knock sounds on the other side of the door.
My lungs seize. My heart pounds so hard I fear a heart attack.
“Winter. It’s okay. It’s over.”
Oh, God.
At first, I’m afraid to let myself believe it. In a tremulous voice, I ask, “Enzo? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, hun.” His voice wraps around me like a comforting blanket. “I’m okay. Everyone is. Ronan and Gage have him. It’s safe to come out.”
Like a jack-in-the-box bursting free, I leap into action. Jumping up, lunging at the door, fumbling at the locks— why are they so complicated? —and finally, flinging the door open.
He’s here.
While I want to throw myself in his arms, I take a moment to assess him. My gaze moves from his feet to the top of his head, searching for any sign of injury. But there’s nothing. Just Enzo, looking very intense and intimidating, tension still vibrating through his body, but visibly unharmed.
“Enzo,” I whisper. “You’re okay.”
“Ah, hun.” His expression softens. He gathers me to him, one hand rubbing up and down my back, the other brushing the dampness from my cheeks. “I’m so sorry you were scared.”
There’s no point in denying it. “I was scared you might get hurt,” I admit quietly. “Even though I knew… I was scared.”
Enzo dips his head and kisses each cheek, then my lips, before meeting my gaze steadily. “I promised I’d be back.”
“I know.” My arms tighten around him. “I know you did. I just… if something happened to you…”
“It’s okay, hun.” Enzo lifts me in his arms, one beneath my legs, the other behind my back. He cradles me to his chest and walks through the kitchen, which I now realize is fully-lit, and into the living room.
Part of me wants to insist I can walk. I may have had a panic attack in the pantry, but my legs are still in working order.
Then again, being held feels really nice. So I ignore the little voice telling me to be independent and rest my head on Enzo’s shoulder instead.
He presses his lips to the top of my head for a moment before crooning, “It’s okay, hun. I’ve got you.”
When he lowers me to the couch, I almost beg him not to let go. But I swallow it back.
“I have to talk to the police,” he says, frowning. He cups my cheek as a regretful expression moves across his face. “It shouldn’t take long. Alec just got here, so he’ll come sit with you until I’m done.”
“Okay.” Even though I want to beg him to stay, I know that’s ridiculous. “But… what happened?”
“Do you want to know now?” Enzo eyes me with an assessing gaze. “Maybe later would be better.”
“No. I want to know. At least the basics. Please?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Enzo nods. He sits beside me and takes my hand. “We spotted him as he breached the fence line, just beyond the shed where Ronan was stationed. We got into position, but didn’t approach until he got close to the house.”
“Then what?”
“We watched him break in,” Enzo replies. “I wanted to get him on breaking and entering, too. And the second he got inside, we grabbed him.”
That sounds awfully simple for something that seemed to take so long. “Was there anything else? He just came inside the house and what? What was he planning to do?”
“He tried to fight back, but there wasn’t much he could do.” A grim smile pulls at his lips. “So we disarmed him, got him back outside, and restrained him.” A pause. “And we may have interrogated him for a few minutes, too.”
“Enzo…” I can tell there’s something he’s not telling me. It’s the way his gaze keeps shifting to the left instead of staying directly on me. “What else?”
“I don’t want to freak you out, Winter.”
“Please. He’s going to jail. I just want to know.”
“Okay.” Enzo sighs, then loops his arm around my waist and tugs me closer to him. “He was armed, of course. And he came with some… other supplies.” Another sigh. “Cans of gas. Matches. And in a bag, he had—” His jaw goes tight. “Restraints. Filled syringes.”
“Oh.” My stomach makes a giant swoop to my feet and back again. “So…” Puzzle pieces slot together, forming a terrible, violent picture of what Thomas was planning. “He wanted to take me. Burn down the house. And the gun…”
The tremors start anew, and Enzo hugs me to his side. “But he didn’t. He never even got close. We wouldn’t let him. And now he’s going to prison. It’s over, and you’re safe.”
Safe.
Amid the fear and horror, it finally hits me.
Thomas is going to jail. It’s over.
I’m safe.
I’m not waiting anymore.
It might sound crazy, but last night—well, this morning, really—made me sure of it.
Yes, I was scared out of my mind, but the fear was more for Enzo than me. And while I’m well aware that Enzo was fine and he and his friends had things under control, it doesn’t change how I felt during those awful minutes when I didn’t know .
I’ve read about it happening in my books; when there’s a close call and suddenly the couple realizes how they truly feel about each other, usually falling into bed shortly after. But I don’t think this is the same, because I’ve been sure about my feelings for Enzo for a while now.
And I’ve wanted to have sex with him. I’ve thought about it enough times. There was just a little something holding me back. I’m not sure what it was—hesitation about initiating it myself, fear that somehow I’d be triggered and ruin a romantic moment, or most likely, I’ve known once I give that last piece of myself to him, there’s no turning back.
It’s scary. Baring everything to Enzo, letting myself fall, opening my heart… What if after all that, he leaves me?
What if I’m alone again? Not just alone, but heartbroken?
But in the pantry, waiting for Enzo to come back, I realized something.
It doesn’t matter if it’s scary when it feels so right.
I can face the fear when the reward is so great.
And with that realization, there’s really no reason to hesitate. No reason to hold back from the man who makes me feel more than I ever dreamed possible. The man I could see myself falling in love with, maybe even spending my life with.
Deep down, I think I’m falling already.
Now the question remains; when do I tell him? How much do I say?
For the last hour, I’ve been mulling it over as I lie snuggled up next to Enzo, watching him sleep. Which sounds kind of creepy, but it’s not. I just love seeing his strong features soft and relaxed, a half-smile tugging at his lips as he dreams. It’s the vulnerable part of Enzo he doesn’t show anyone else but me.
And I love feeling his arms wrapped around me, hugging me close. Every so often his hold will tighten, like he needs the reassurance that I’m still here.
I need the reassurance, too, after what happened only… six hours ago? Six hours since the police left with Thomas in custody, Ronan and Gage left, and Enzo and I both took quick showers before collapsing into bed. It wasn’t that long ago that I feared for Enzo’s life, so I’m glad to cuddle into his embrace and feel the reassuring thud of his heart.
We’re not going into the store today—Will is covering—so I have the entire day to spend with Enzo. Maybe I should get up and make him breakfast, and ease into the sex conversation from there. Or I could wait until later, over dinner, and bring it up then. Wear something sexy, like one of the dresses I ordered in anticipation of our next romantic date.
I could wait until tonight and surprise him before bed. Put on my skimpiest nightgown, or, even better, just one of his T-shirts.
Or…
I glance down and notice a rising bulge in Enzo’s shorts.
Maybe I could just surprise him now.
Yes . No planning, no pretense, just doing what feels right.
So I carefully wriggle out of my sleep shorts and shirt, leaving only my black bikinis on. Thankfully, I’ve been keeping myself well-groomed, just in case, so that’s one less thing to worry about.
Now nearly naked, I snuggle back into Enzo’s side and rest my hand on his stomach, lightly tracing the lines of his very impressive abs. There’s no mere six-pack here, but at least eight, possibly ten.
Is that possible? How many muscles does a man have in his abdomen? Whatever it is, Enzo’s are right there, on glorious display.
As I start inching my hand lower, a flutter of panic seizes me.
My hair! My breath! How can I kiss Enzo if my breath could knock him unconscious?
But before I can sneak into the bathroom to freshen up, Enzo’s hand comes to rest over mine. Like he always is when he wakes up, he’s fully alert, unlike me who takes a good fifteen minutes to feel remotely close to human.
“Winter.” His voice comes out all rough and rumbly, a sexy sound that sends a jolt of desire to my core. “What are you doing?”
I’m perched on a precipice. Back down and wait until I’m more groomed, with fresh breath and sexy clothes and deep conditioned hair? Or leap forward and do what my body and heart are telling me to?
I hold his gaze as my hand moves even lower, dipping just below the waistband of his shorts. In a sultry tone that sounds nothing like me, I reply, “I’m ready. For all of it.”
“Hun…” His eyes still haven’t left mine. “What are you saying?”
Then he notices my conspicuous lack of clothing, and it reminds me of one of those old cartoons where the character’s eyes almost pop out of their head. His arousal jumps just below my hand, and his breath quickens. “Winter. You’re not wearing?—”
“I know.” I grin at him and wrap my fingers around his hard length. It’s velvety soft and hot and thick in my hand, already slightly damp from excitement. “You said you wanted to make sure I’m completely ready. And I am. I want you.”
His jaw clenches. “Are you sure? After last night… it was a lot. And…”
How did I think it would be hard to tell Enzo what I want? It’s not. It feels amazing .
“I’m sure. I’ve known, but now…” I pause before giving him the unvarnished truth. “I want to give you everything. You already have my trust. My heart. I would do anything for you. This… it’s the last piece. I want to be with you. If you want it, too.”
Enzo stares at me, his pupils dilating until there’s just a thin ring of blue around them. “Yes. Absolutely. I want you. More than anything.”
“Good.” Sitting up, I tug at his shorts until he helps me, yanking them off and flinging them across the room. Then I straddle his thighs and start stroking him again, spreading the moisture from root to tip, feeling him grow even thicker and harder.
“Ah, hun.” He clutches the bottom sheet, the muscles in his arms tensing. “That feels?—”
But I lean over and kiss him, swallowing the rest of his words.
This is no tender, teasing kiss. It’s hot and needy and our tongues plunge deep, stroking and tasting and caressing.
One hand still wrapped around him, I use the other to explore the rest of his body. I trace the lines and ridges of his chest, the firm planes of muscle, and brush my fingers across the fine dusting of dark bronze hair.
I touch his arms—the thick biceps I love to eyeball when he’s working outside in the yard, forearms I never thought about being sexy until I saw Enzo with his sleeves rolled up.
I find the tattoo on Enzo’s ribcage—two arrows crossed with a blade intersecting them—and break our kiss so I can press my lips there, knowing it’s the Green Beret symbol and how much it means to him.
All during this, Enzo lies beneath me, intentionally still, watching me with a dark and hooded gaze. The tendons in his neck are taut with strain, and every so often his fingers will clutch the bottom sheet, like it’s taking all his control not to touch me.
I know what he’s doing, and while it’s not necessary, I’m not complaining. After thinking about touching Enzo like this for weeks, I’m enjoying these moments of exploration. Enzo partly dressed—which I’ve seen—is nothing like experiencing him completely naked.
It’s something I never thought about before; how sensual and enticing it could be just to touch a man all over.
But then again, I’ve never been with a man like Enzo.
When I start kissing my way down his chest, Enzo groans, and all the muscles in his abdomen go rigid. He throbs in my hand, all slick, silken heat, and I’m wet just imagining him being inside me.
His hand brushes my hair gently, a contradiction to the tension running through his body. “Winter.” It’s gritted out, rough and throaty. “Hun.”
Lifting my head, I smile as I meet his gaze. “You can touch me, you know. It’s okay.”
He cups my cheek, the intense look in his eyes shifting to one of concern. “I don’t want to do anything… I thought this would be better. Letting you take control.”
“And you did.” I kiss him again. “But you don’t have to worry. Nothing about this is scary. I love touching you, and feeling this—” I add a little pressure as I stroke him, and his arousal jumps in my hand. “But do you know what I really want to feel?”
Enzo sucks in a sharp breath. “What?”
“I want to feel you inside me.”
His eyes flare with heat. “Winter.”
Still holding his gaze, I continue, “I want to feel your hands on me. Everywhere. I want—” Is this sultry voice really mine? Am I really being this bold in telling Enzo what I want?
Yes.
In an even huskier voice, he asks, “What else do you want?”
Permission granted, Enzo’s hands move to my breasts, plumping them, lightly flicking at my nipples, brushing his thumbs across the sensitive skin. His touch is like a jolt of electricity zipping straight to my core, and I squeeze my thighs together to ease the growing ache there.
“I want to know what you look like when you come,” I blurt out, my cheeks heating a little. “When you lose control. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”
“Ah, hun. Do you know what it does to me to hear you say that?”
One big hand moves from my breast down to the apex of my thighs. His fingers find that little bundle of nerves and start working it, rubbing and stroking and then?—
A finger slips inside me, thick and slightly rough, but I’m so wet it slides in easily.
Oh. OH.
If this feels this amazing, how will it feel when I actually have Enzo inside me?
As his finger lazily moves in and out, he asks, “What do you want?”
“What?” My brain is starting to short-circuit.
“This time,” he clarifies. “I know what you said. But I want you to be comfortable. Would you rather be on top? Or me?”
“Um.” His thumb presses down just so and my womb spasms with need. “I…”
A tiny smirk lifts his lips. “What would you like, Winter? Do you want to ride me? Or would you rather have your legs draped over my shoulders?”
Oh. Both sound really appealing.
“Later, we’ll try other things, too. But for our first time, I want to look in your eyes. I want to see how gorgeous you look when you fly over the edge.”
Oh my . I think his voice and that piercing gaze and the wicked things his fingers are doing might be enough.
But then I envision Enzo braced above me, his arms and abs flexing, driving into me…
“You on top,” I manage. “Please.”
His smile gets bigger. “Okay. I can do that.”
And in one fluid move, he flips us over, so I’m beneath him.
Always prepared, Enzo reaches into the nightstand and grabs a condom. Or actually, a whole string of wrappers, and I can’t stop from snickering. “Feeling ambitious?”
“No.” As he sheathes himself, he adds, “Just hopeful.”
When he’s notched at my center, so close my body is trembling in anticipation, he freezes. “No matter what we’re doing, if you want me to stop,” he says very seriously, “tell me. I won’t be upset. I promise.”
Stop? That’s the last thing I’m thinking of.
“Okay.” I bob my head in eager agreement. “Got it. Now. Will you please ?”
Enzo stares at me, a depth of emotion in his gaze. “Anything you want, Winter. I’ll give it to you. Anything .”
And he does.
Oh, he does.
As he sinks into me, first tantalizingly slow, giving me time to adjust to his size.
Then as he starts moving faster, plunging deeper, finally bottoming out, filling me.
It’s far beyond any of my fantasies. Feeling Enzo inside me, the drag of him against my inner walls, and when he hits that spot , the one I’ve read about in my books but always thought was just fiction…
Oh. It’s incredible.
My legs draped over his shoulders as promised, our bodies crashing into each other in a frenzy of desire and need, it’s more than incredible.
It’s perfect.
We’re a perfect fit.
And finally, when he lifts my hips and somehow goes even deeper than before, it’s ecstasy.
Bright flashes of light fill my vision. All my muscles go rigid, from my toes to my fingers. A delicious pressure and heat explodes inside me, and I make noises I’ve never heard come out of my mouth before—guttural moans and cries and breathy whimpers.
Just as I’m careening over the edge, Enzo jumps off with me. He thickens inside me, so hard and big, and my inner muscles clutch at him, wanting to keep him inside as long as I can.
And how he looks when he comes? That’s perfect, too. All his emotions are right there, on display.
I don’t think I’m the only one who’s falling.
Minutes later, after we reluctantly draw apart, Enzo tucks me into his arms again. He kisses the top of my head, letting his lips linger for a few seconds. Then he says softly, “I meant what I said, Winter.”
I lay my hand flat on his chest, feeling his heart still racing. “Which thing?”
“That I’d give you anything.” He hugs me closer and presses another kiss to my hair. “I mean it. Anything you want. Anything you need. It’s yours. For as long as you’ll let me.”
Oh.
I think I’m beyond falling.
Emotion thick in my throat, I squeeze Enzo tightly. “I feel the same way.”