11. Secret Spot

Secret Spot

Quinn

T he night air cooled my flushed cheeks as we stepped into the quiet parking lot, the echo of our kiss still pulsing in my chest. Enzo kept hold of my hand as he led me toward his truck.

“If you’re up for a quick drive, there’s a place I want to show you.” His voice carried a hint of hesitation as he opened the passenger door.

“Sure.” As I climbed in, his hand brushed along my lower back, a featherlight touch that somehow made me feel more than our kiss.

We drove with the windows halfway down, my hair whipping into tangles I’d regret later, but after dancing and that kiss, it felt good.

It also momentarily distracted me from the man sitting next to me.

Why was a man driving with one hand on top of the steering wheel looking relaxed, so damned sexy?

The only thing that would have made it sexier was if he’d worn his hat.

Enzo shifted in his seat as if he could hear my thoughts. “Are you glad you came? To La Cuesta?”

I glanced over at him. “Yeah. It’s easy to forget places like this exist when you’re caught up in your own mess.”

His mouth twitched, almost a smile. “I know what you mean. I’ve been here so long I barely see it anymore. I love the ranch and working with the animals, but sometimes it feels like something is missing.”

“Sounds like teaching.” I exhaled, watching the lights spill across the dashboard. “Some days I’m buried in paperwork and behavior charts, and then a kid learns something they’ve been struggling with or says something completely profound that makes me remember why I love what I do. But then...”

“But then what?” The truck eased onto a narrow side road I would’ve missed completely if I were driving.

I shook my head, not wanting this to turn into a therapy session about my love-hate relationship with my career choice. “This looks very sketchy.”

He laughed but didn’t say anything as we bumped along for a minute before he parked and turned toward me. “We’re here.”

“Which is where, exactly?” I peered through the windshield but only saw darkness.

Enzo grinned a rare, full smile that transformed his entire face. I hoped it was an ‘I’m excited to show you’ grin and not a ‘you just made a grave mistake’ grin.

I followed him out of the truck, my boots crunching on gravel. He took my hand again, leading me along a narrow path. The breeze picked up, carrying the unmistakable scent of the ocean.

We approached what I now realized was the edge of a bluff, and the view stole my breath.

Below us, waves crashed against jagged rocks, their white foam visible even in the darkness.

The moon cast a silver pathway across the water that seemed to lead straight to the horizon.

Stars scattered across the sky, brighter than I’d ever seen them.

“This is my secret spot.” He led me to a wooden railing. “I come here when I need to think.”

I leaned forward slightly, feeling the spray of distant waves carried up by the wind. A shiver ran through me, partly from the chill and partly from the strange intimacy of being shown something so personal.

Enzo noticed immediately. “Cold?” Before I could answer, he moved behind me and wrapped me in his arms.

“You don’t have to…” My protest died as the warmth of his front met my back.

The solid wall of him was unexpectedly comforting, like sinking into a favorite chair you forgot was so perfect.

His arms formed a protective circle around me, and I relaxed into the unfamiliar embrace with surprising ease.

“Better?” His voice had dropped to a low rumble, the vibration traveling from his chest into my shoulder blades. The single word tickled my ear and sent a tingle right between my legs where it should not be going.

I nodded, leaning back into him. “Thank you.” My fingers found the edge of his sleeve where it rested against my waist, and I absently ran my finger over his wrist.

The vastness of the ocean spread before us, but all I could focus on was how easily and naturally I fit against him. I’d felt hollow for months, long before my engagement ended, but this simple connection filled something in me I hadn’t realized was empty.

“I should probably apologize for the bar.” Enzo rested his chin on my shoulder.

I turned my head to look at him, confused. “For what?”

“Kissing you.” His eyes remained on the ocean. “It complicates things.”

“I’m a fan of complications.” I reached up and touched his cheek, forcing him to look at me. “And if you’re apologizing for the kiss, I should remind you I was a very willing participant.”

That was all it took. He captured my lips with an urgency that made my knees weak. This kiss was different from the one in the bar. It was deeper, wilder, and unrestricted by prying eyes.

He turned me so I was facing him, his hands sliding down to my hips, drawing me against him until I felt every hard plane of his body.

My fingers tangled in his hair as his mouth trailed from my lips to my jaw, then down the sensitive column of my neck.

The contrast between the cool night air and his hot mouth sent tingles cascading down my spine.

His hips were flush against mine, his erection evident against me. Something stirred inside me, and I reached for his belt buckle. He tensed against me, his breath catching as I undid his pants.

The sound of his zipper cutting through the night made a current hum just beneath my skin. I slipped my hand beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, wrapping my fingers around him. He was hot and hard in my palm, his sharp intake of breath confirming the effect my touch had on him.

He started to reach for the button of my jeans, but I sank to my knees before he could, the rough gravel digging into my skin through my pants. I didn’t care. The discomfort was nothing compared to the rush of power I felt looking up at the stoic, controlled man coming completely undone.

“Fuck.” He stared down at me with intense eyes. “Are you sure?”

I answered by freeing him completely and stroking him slowly from base to tip. His hands found my hair, fingers tangling in the windblown strands. The moonlight highlighted the sculpted planes of his face as he watched me, his chest rising and falling with quickening breaths.

I dragged my tongue along the underside of his shaft. His grip tightened in my hair, guiding me into a rhythm that had him groaning above me.

“Fuck, your mouth.” His usual reserve crumbled with each slide of my lips. “You’re so beautiful on your knees for me.”

I hollowed my cheeks, taking him deeper, rewarded by the sight of his head falling back. A primal satisfaction coursed through me as this man completely surrendered to the pleasure I was giving him. His fingers flexed against my scalp, not directing but simply holding on.

“That’s it, take all of me.” His hips began to move, tentatively at first, until I gripped his thighs in silent permission. The feeling of him taking control, using my mouth for his pleasure, sent a rush of wet heat between my legs.

The sounds of the ocean faded into the background, replaced by his ragged breathing and muttered profanities. He held me in place as he moved faster and deeper.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

My eyes fluttered open to meet his, finding them blazing with an intensity that stole my breath. His expression was a mixture of restraint and abandon, his jaw clenched tight even as his parted lips betrayed his pleasure.

I dug my fingers into his thighs, urging him on. When he swelled against my tongue, I took him as deeply as I could, swallowing around him as he came with a strangled groan.

For a moment, there was only the sound of our heavy breathing and the crash of waves. His fingers massaged my scalp gently, and I considered staying on my knees so he’d take my mouth again.

Without a word, he pulled me to my feet and captured my mouth in a bruising kiss. My knees wobbled, still tender from the gravel, but his arm snaked around my waist, holding me steady.

He growled against my lips, and then he spun me around to face the ocean.

He pressed himself against my back, warm and solid against me.

He swept my hair to one side, exposing my neck to the cool night air.

Goosebumps raced across my skin as he kissed and nipped the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder.

His fingers found the button of my jeans.

“I want to make you fall apart.” His voice dropped lower as he slowly pulled my zipper down.

“I want to feel you trembling against me until you can’t remember your own name.

” His fingertips skimmed beneath the waistband, igniting little fires across my skin.

I gripped the railing as his hand slipped into my underwear, fingers gliding through the wetness he found there. A whimper escaped me as he circled my clit.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, his free hand sliding under my shirt to cup my breast. “Don’t close your eyes, I want you looking at the ocean.”

I forced my gaze forward, watching the water as Enzo slid one finger inside me, then another, curling them in a way that made my breath catch.

“Yes,” I gasped as his thumb pressed my clit with just the right pressure.

He worked his fingers in and out of me in a steady rhythm as his lips traveled across my neck to my ear. “I want to feel you come around my fingers. Then I’m going to take you home and taste every inch of you.”

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the railing harder. I didn’t know what it was about railings, but apparently it was my new kink to get off while holding onto one for dear life.

“That’s it,” he encouraged as my breath quickened. “Let go for me. I want to hear you.”

The pressure built low in my belly as his fingers moved faster, his other hand pinching my nipple through my bra. The slight sting of pain pushed me closer to the edge.

“Enzo,” I moaned, my head falling back against his shoulder.

“Look at the ocean,” he reminded me. “I want you to remember this view every time you come.”

I forced my eyes open, focusing on the waves crashing against the rocks below as the pleasure crested. My body shuddered against him as I came undone, my cries carried away by the wind and lost in the sound of the surf.

He worked me through it, his fingers slowing but not stopping until the aftershocks subsided. Only then did he withdraw his hand, turning me to face him as he lifted his fingers to his mouth.

In the moonlight, his eyes looked almost black, filled with a hunger that wasn’t even close to being satisfied.

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