Chapter 7 Enzo
I lift my fingers, making a subtle checkmark in the air to signal the bartender to close my tab. The weight of her gaze burns into me, but I don’t glance her way. I let her hang in that sliver of silence that demands an answer she may not want to admit.
“You think champagne and cake will get me into your bed?” she asks, her tone sharp. But she can’t mask the slight catch in her breath, the way her pulse visibly quickens beneath the delicate skin of her neck.
I turn my head just enough to meet her eyes, the corner of my mouth curving. “No,” I reply evenly. “You’re not that kind of woman. But I know chemistry when I feel it, Lilly. And a birthday girl,” I lean closer, my voice dipping lower, “always deserves to come. At least twice.”
Her breath hitches, and I don’t miss the way her lips part, no matter how much she tries to fight it.
My words are direct, shameless, and I mean every single one of them.
I’ve been holding myself back all night, letting tension come to a breaking point between us, but it’s damn near unbearable now.
I need to feel her skin against mine, taste the sweetness lingering on her tongue, drown in the soft sounds I know she’ll make.
She rolls her eyes, a weak shield for her flushing cheeks. “And you think you’re capable of making me come twice?”
I let the smirk deepen, refusing to look away. “I don’t think, I know.” My gaze drops to her lips before locking onto her eyes again. “Hell, if you let me, I might make it three.”
Her cheeks bloom into a deeper crimson. Her mouth opens, as though she has some snappy comeback, but nothing comes out. Instead, she stammers, “I’m not—I just…”
That’s my cue.
I rise from my chair, sliding into my jacket as the bartender drops the tab in front of me. I scrawl my signature with the ease of a man completely in control, tearing off the corner of the paper and writing my room number on it.
Without hesitation, I take her hand, warm and soft in mine, and press the slip into her palm.
Then I cup her cheek, my thumb brushing lightly against her skin. She tilts her head into the touch, her lashes fluttering as if the tenderness of the moment disarms her completely. Her gaze turns heavy, laced with a need she’s denying but dangerously close to giving into.
“Finish your cake,” I tell her, keeping my voice intimate. “When you’re done, the choice is yours. You knock on my door, and I’ll show you just how much I mean every damn word I’ve said. Or, if you prefer, we go our separate ways, no hard feelings.”
I let my thumb trail along her jaw one last time before stepping back, straightening to my full height. I know the effect this moment will have, and I want her to feel the decision fully in her hands.
“But either way, Lilly,” I say softly, my tone lingering like a promise, “I’ll remember this night for a very long time.”
Her eyes stay fixed on mine as I turn to walk away, the silence between us crackling like fire. I don’t glance back. I don’t need to, I know she’s still watching.