Chapter 15
“Get your game face on,” Enzo instructed, taking a deep breath and letting it out.
They were standing in the empty hallway outside the smaller conference room.
Seven was glad they weren’t using the larger one today.
He had a visceral reaction to it. That was where he and Enzo first met.
Where Enzo had leaned into his space and called him a brat.
Or maybe that part was all in his head? He’d jerked off so many times remembering that scenario in a dozen different ways that he could no longer discern fact from fiction.
Seven snorted. “We’re interviewing our moms, not going up against a cartel.”
Enzo’s face became a little black rain cloud as he grumped, “The last time we were meeting a cartel, you spent the whole time making fuck-me eyes at Thomas Mulvaney.”
Seven bit back a smile. “Thomas Mulvaney is very married.” When Enzo glowered at him, face pouty, Seven couldn’t help but grin, shaking his head.
“Okay, fine. I was only doing that to make you jealous. We were still in our weird not-friends-but-not-more-than-friends phase. I didn’t know what I was going to do with you. ”
Enzo pushed him up against the door of the conference room, hand circling his throat as he pressed his forearm to the door over Seven’s head. He didn’t squeeze. No, he went for something far more sadistic, his thumb sweeping gently over his pulse point.
“Do you know how crazy that made me?” Enzo practically growled.
“Pretend I don’t know…and tell me,” Seven said, a little breathless.
“I fantasized about killing him,” Enzo admitted. “And about tying you to the bed and punishing you until you were too sore to walk.”
“Punish me how, Daddy?” Seven taunted. “Were you gonna spank me? ‘Cause you keep threatening, but you never do.”
Enzo’s hand did squeeze then, not enough to cut off his air supply but enough to let Seven know he could.
“I’m holding back because I don’t want you to think that I only want you as a sub.
Besides, we haven’t even discussed what you like and what you don’t.
But if you need a demonstration, I’ll be happy to provide one. ”
Seven could feel his chest heaving, his lips suddenly bone dry. His tongue darted out to wet them. Enzo watched the movement carefully. Seven cleared his throat. “Our moms are on the other side of this door…remember?”
It was clear by the way Enzo straightened that he had not only gotten lost in the moment, but seemed to have forgotten they were at work. “Right. Right. To be continued.”
Enzo once more took a deep breath and let it out, making Seven laugh. “Why are you so nervous? My mother loves you. Maybe more than me.”
Enzo looked at him like he was crazy. “You know as well as I do that our moms will be scrutinizing our every move, looking for any sign that their scheming has worked. And once that happens, they’re going to feel emboldened.”
“Emboldened?” Seven asked, amused.
“You laugh, but you don’t understand Italian mothers,” Enzo said, sounding a little afraid.
“What are they going to do? Once we’re married, there’s nothing more they can do. My mother is fresh out of kids to torment, but your mom has so many to choose from. She’ll simply turn her attention to your siblings. We’ll be home free,” Seven said breezily.
Enzo gave him a flat look. “Until they start pushing for grandchildren.”
Seven choked on his own spit. “Grandchildren?”
Before Seven could truly process his words, Enzo pushed open the conference room door. “Good morning, ladies. You look beautiful as always.”
Grandchildren?
Seven entered the conference room behind him, woodenly leaning down to press a kiss to both his mother’s and Francesca’s cheeks.
When Enzo took a seat opposite the two women, Seven followed like his fiancé had a string tied to his ass.
He could feel their mothers scrutinizing him, focusing on his clothing before looking at each other with a knowing look.
“You look nice today,” Francesca said innocently. “New sweater?”
Seven gave a stilted nod. “Jericho and Freckles couldn’t get to our apartment to get my clothes, so Enzo called a friend,” he mumbled.
“Oh,” his mother said. “How nice.”
“I told him I’d take him shopping tonight to get him whatever he needs. This is just what my friend could scrounge up in his size at the moment,” Enzo explained.
“That’s very generous of you,” Neith said, looking her son up and down with a knowing smile.
Francesca nodded. “Take him to Phillip. I have an open account there.”
Enzo shook his head, like he found their meddling both endearing and frustrating. “I can take care of my own—” He cut himself off abruptly, paling under his tan.
“Own?” Francesca prompted, sitting forward almost eagerly.
“Client’s son,” Enzo finished lamely.
“Smooth,” Seven whispered under his breath.
Enzo made a show of setting up the video equipment and checking the mic.
The firm recorded their interviews both for transcription and so they could review body language, tone, things of that nature.
Seven’s mind wandered as Enzo fussed with this and that, like he was hoping if enough time passed, their mothers would stop looking at them like lone gazelles that had separated from the herd.
Part of him thought they should just tell them. It would make them happy. But then they’d start pushing them to make wedding plans and…give them grandchildren.
Once more, Seven’s tongue darted out to lick over his dried lower lip.
Would Francesca really want them to have kids immediately?
Seven couldn’t fathom what he’d be like as a parent.
He still had to finish law school. He had to pass the bar.
Enzo had mentioned them leaving to start their own practice.
Would that make having kids easier or harder? How did two men even have a baby?
Felix had used a surrogate, but the eggs came from Calliope’s girlfriend, Lola.
Calliope had carried Thomas and Aiden’s baby, but the eggs had come from an anonymous donor.
August and Lucas had just knocked up Cricket, not once, but twice.
They had pretty much exhausted the females in their friend group, and it seemed weird to mine them for spare parts like some kind of chop shop.
He supposed that Enzo’s money could buy them anything, even a baby.
But Seven kind of wanted to be Enzo’s baby.
At least, for a while. Was that selfish?
Enzo was right. They hadn’t even started exploring what Seven liked and what he didn’t.
They hadn’t discussed hard or soft limits, safe words, nothing.
Seven loved the idea of punishment, but what if he didn’t like it in practice?
“Seven?”
Enzo’s sharp tone snapped Seven back to reality. It was only then that he realized he’d completely zoned out. “Yes?”
Enzo frowned at him while the two women looked on with amusement. “Are you alright?”
Seven nodded. “Just tired, sorry.”
“Did you not sleep well?” Francesca inquired, gaze flicking to her son with a look Seven didn’t even want to begin to decipher.
“He was worried,” Enzo retorted before Seven could stumble through whatever explanation would have come to him in the moment. “We just want to get Neith home where she belongs and put all of this behind us so he can concentrate on school. Shall we get started?”
Seven stared at the side of Enzo’s face. There was no way he wasn’t bleeding love all over the table, but he couldn’t help himself. Enzo was so commanding, so possessive, so determined to take care of Seven. It was so fucking sexy. Even their mothers were charmed. He just exuded charisma.
“Of course,” Neith said, looking down at the pastry on her plate. “Ask me anything.”
Enzo sat back in his chair. “I’ll just jump right into it. Please understand, any questions I ask aren’t meant to offend. They’ll just help us get to the bottom of this much faster.”
“Just ask your questions, habibi,” Neith said. “I won’t be offended.”
Enzo flushed at Neith’s use of the term of endearment, looking like he was biting back a smile. “Uh, yeah. Okay. First and foremost, do you have any enemies? Someone who might want to harm you?”
Seven jumped as Enzo’s hand slipped beneath the table, landing high on his thigh.
Was he going to feel him up in front of their mothers?
Was he trying to kill him? When the hand didn’t move any higher, just gave a comforting squeeze, his shoulders sagged once more.
He was just trying to calm him down. He must really look like a mess.
“Up until they were slapping handcuffs on me, I would have said no,” Neith answered, her voice cracking slightly.
“What about Dad?” Seven blurted. “Could he have anything to do with this?”
Neith gave him a sad smile. “I don’t think so, habibi. Your father and I aren’t on bad terms.”
“Not even now that you’re dating Rocco?” Seven asked, his tone slightly more accusatory than he’d intended. “Does he know about that?”
Neith glanced at Francesca, then back to Seven. “That’s a very recent development. We’ve only been dating a few months.”
A few months? She’d been dating someone for months and didn’t even tell him? Though, to be fair, it wasn’t like he’d told her about Enzo.
“Whoever did this to me has been plotting this for a while. At least six months. It’s clear now that they moved me into this position to take the fall,” she said.
“Is there anyone who might have a grudge against you in the company?” Enzo asked, brows furrowing.
Neith looked conflicted. “I didn’t think so at first, but now, I’m starting to wonder.”
“Why’s that?” Seven asked.
Neith gave a helpless shake of her head. “When the officers questioned me yesterday, they said I was really good at covering my tracks, but not good enough. That even though I used my assistant’s username and password, they’d traced the transactions back to my terminal.”
Seven’s temper flared immediately.