Chapter Fifty-Three Enzo
Chapter Fifty-Three
Enzo
Out of all the dumb ideas I’d ever had—and as God as my witness, there had been no shortage of those—breaking and entering a federal agent’s apartment was probably at the top of the list.
In my defense, he was technically fired.
Also, I was pretty sure he’d let it slide.
Everything was ready. There was dinner on the table. Lit candles. Soft music playing. The lights were dimmed. I was just putting on the final touches and tossing salt onto the steamed asparagus when I heard the elevator dinging open from outside the door.
I dashed into Tom’s bedroom, jumped onto the bed, grabbed the whipped cream can (keto, sugar-free; he’d just entered his fifth decade, and we needed to be diligent), and sprayed it all over my cock.
Oh, did I mention I was naked?
I was totally naked.
Just me, the whipped cream, and minus the black cloud that used to follow me everywhere I went.
The shame. The embarrassment. The self-loathing for who and what I was.
The sound of the mechanical door lock swiveling rang in the air when I reached for the flower bouquet I’d brought over, plucked a rose, and jammed it between my teeth.
Motherfucker.
It was thorny as fuck. My lip split, bleeding all over my neck and chest. It was all over his sheets, too.
“Enzo?” I heard the uncertainty in his voice from the living room. Like he still wasn’t sure if it was me who’d done this. Was there another man waiting in the wings for him? There better not be. I’d just come back from a killing spree. I needed a break. But I’d do what needed to be done.
I heard him padding across the living room. He sure was taking a long-ass time…
“Butterfly…” His raspy, low voice halted. “Give me a second to find you. Your candles are burning down the curtains, and I need to extinguish the fire.”
Fuck!
I knew I should’ve waited until we actually ate before lighting those scented little shits. Stupid Tierney. It was her idea. That pyromaniac always had a thing for burning shit down.
As if on cue, the scent of charred fabric crawled into my nostrils. I heard Tom throwing open the windows and the hiss of the fire extinguisher.
I didn’t leave the bed. Partly because I wouldn’t let this little hiccup of burning down his apartment ruin my surprise. But mostly because if I was going to die of mortification, at least it would be somewhere comfortable.
Eventually, he did appear at the doorway, panting. Beads of sweat decorated his forehead.
Holy shit, how had he become hotter in the span of a day?
Was this normal? Was anyone looking into the phenomenon?
Tom in one of his smart suits and vest was wicked.
Tom with a black turtleneck and matching slacks, however, could change population growth rates.
I bet women got knocked up on the street just by giving him a double take.
He stared at me with that dark, lazy expression of his that made me fuzzy on the inside.
“Ask me again,” he said.
“What?”
“When did I fall in love with you.”
My heart beat out of whack, twisting wildly in my chest. I swallowed hard.
“When did you fall in love with me, Tom?”
“The moment you first made me smile. I knew that if you managed that, you’d be able to make me do anything.”
“Tom…” My breath became faster, choppier. “That happened the day after we kissed.”
“I know.”
“I thought you hated me.”
“I never hated you. I only hated myself, for knowing I could never deserve you. But that didn’t stop me, either.”
He was wrong. He deserved so much better. But I wasn’t altruistic enough to point that out.
“Baby…”
“Hmm?” I gazed up at him dreamingly.
“Why does it look like you ejaculated glue all over yourself?”
I looked down. The whipped cream had melted sometime during Tom’s attempt to extinguish the fire I’d started in his living room. Wow. This was the worst grand gesture in the history of the world.
I spat out the rose, grabbing the pillow behind me and pressing it onto my face to muffle my scream of frustration.
Muscular thighs bracketed my waist, and when I threw the pillow off my face, I looked up and saw him grinning down at me.
“Hi.” His mouth was an inch from mine.
“Hi.” I licked my lips, my gaze traveling down to his strained slacks. “I’m ruining your Prada with the melted whipped cream.”
“I can buy another pair. I can’t buy another Enzo.
” He leaned down, spearing my mouth open with his tongue and kissing the ever-loving fuck out of me.
A moan of pleasure ripped from the depths of my throat, and I arched, my body chasing his.
He grabbed the sides of my face and deepened the kiss, his mouth exploring all the sensitive places he knew drove me mad.
When I started leaking cum, desperate for more, he grabbed me by the hip bone and flipped me over with such ease I second-guessed my huge form.
“Hands and knees,” was all he said, and it was enough to make me kneel, sticking my ass up in the air in offering.
There was no time for him to get undressed, no patience for niceties.
He rolled the drawer of his nightstand open, pumped out two shots of lube, slicked his dick, and entered me from behind, sliding all the way in and filling me to the brim.
I threw my head back, tears stinging my eyes.
Gone were the love declarations and choked-up moments of softness. It was obvious that we were fucking like our lives depended on it, because after over a month…they kind of did. Tom went absolutely wild on my ass.
With each thrust, he was nailing me deeper into his mattress, the momentum and impact each time he drove home making it impossible for me to lift my head from the pillow. I actually thought I was going to suffocate there for a second. The idea was immediately followed by giddiness.
Breath play? Don’t mind if I do.
The harder he fucked me, the closer I got to the holy grail of orgasms.
When my harsh moans turned into unintelligible praise in Italian, he grabbed me by the hair and pushed me up so I was on my knees.
I had to brace both hands against the headboard and still use all my core power to stay in this position, because my hunky demon of a boyfriend did not stop fucking me even for one damn second.
His mouth was on my ear, his chest pressing against my back. “I hope you know I bought a bottle of lube every day you were gone so we could make up for it.”
“Fuck, Tomcat.” I threw the back of my head against his shoulder in a moan, and, opportunist that he was, he used the angle to suck on my neck and leave a hickey. “We’re not leaving the bed all weekend.”
“All year,” he corrected me.
“Decade.” I pushed into his dick, falling back down on my hands and knees. He lodged one of his feet on the mattress to reposition himself, and that was when I noticed he was still wearing his wingtips. He hadn’t even taken them off before fucking me.
Oh, fuck. Why was that so hot?
We were a total mess, and I was eating it up like there was no tomorrow.
“I’m coming,” I grunted, and he picked up his pace, reaching for my dick from behind and finishing me off with rough tugs. He knew just how I liked to be touched, and I blew my load all over the headboard, before collapsing against it like a cartoon character that hit a wall.
That didn’t stop him from fucking me, either. He pushed a few more times, emptied inside me with a warrior cry, and took me down with him when he fell sideways on the bed.
For a moment, we just caught our breaths, staring at the ceiling, too stunned to even look at each other.
There was silence, but it wasn’t awkward.
More like contentment. Everything had been hashed out, more or less.
I didn’t give half a shit that he was unemployed.
I could keep us both afloat. As long as we could be together, nothing else mattered.
He turned to face me, staring at my profile.
I wanted to capture this moment just a few seconds longer. The bliss of not having to use words or make promises. To just be.
“Give me fifteen minutes, and we’re going on round two.” He kissed my shoulder, breaking the silence.
“Do you think my cum stain will come off the headboard? It’s suede.”
He reached for my pants on the floor, grabbed my soft pack, and withdrew one cigarette, lighting it for me. He took the first hit, passing it to me and blowing smoke sideways. “Dunno. Hope not.”
I rolled on my stomach and grinned up at his face. There was no denying I had the energy of a golden retriever and he was a black cat. His eyes were soft, but his mouth was hard.
“What?” he asked.
“My brothers told me you got fired.”
His eyebrows lowered, and he retreated back to the icy monster I’d once worked to thaw, one icicle at a time. “I did not—”
“Look, baby, don’t worry about it. I make enough for both of us.” I kissed his sweat-dampened jawline, then took another drag of my cigarette. “You can sit home and be pretty while you figure out what you wanna do next. As long as you make us dinner.”
“Enzo, I—”
“And if it’s really bad, I can always find you a job. You have so many skills. You are so talented.” I peppered more kisses down his throat, contemplating if it was too soon for a blowie. “Like that thing you do with your tongue on my balls—”
“Enzo.” Tom gave me a gentle but firm push, locking our glares together.
“Hmm?” I smiled.
“I haven’t been fired.”
“What?” My face fell. That meant we still needed to be in the closet. Not ideal, but I was going to make it work.
“Yes, there was an investigation into the operation, but it was determined there was no foul play. The Ferrante case is now truly and indefinitely dead. We passed Slava’s homicide case to Vegas.
The Bratva’s in deep shit.” He snatched the cigarette from me and took a pissed-off hit before sticking it back in my mouth.
“I am being transferred to counterterrorism, which was the department I’ve been vying for.
And it will not be a conflict of interest for us to be together.
” He paused, narrowing his eyes at me. “But thank you, for offering to make me your little Mary Sue. And just for the record, I don’t need your money.
I inherited eight million worth of assets and liquidated funds from my late aunt a few years back. ”
“You’re welcome.” I grinned so big, I couldn’t contain my glee. This was fantastic news. Better than the time we’d found out Luca actually possessed a heart. “So does that mean that you’re still FBI?”
“Yup.” Tom brushed his thumb over the curl I was never, ever going to trim just so he could keep doing that.
“Oh, thank God.” I put a hand to my chest.
“Baby, were you really so worried—”
“So you can still pretend to arrest me and handcuff me to the bed and have your wicked way with me,” I said excitedly.
He stared at me for a moment, then started laughing, hooking his arm around my neck and taking me down with him with a kiss. “Fuck, Butterfly, I missed you so much.”
“Well, I’m back now. Forever, this time.”