Well, that didn’t sound horrible. I could handle that.
“The thing is, we were really good at what we did. Really fucking good. And it was hard for us to look away when we saw injustices happening all around us. People going unpunished for crimes they committed because of legal bullshit. And as long as we did what we were told by the government, they didn’t seem to care if we went off on our own from time to time.”
“What do you mean? Like what your dad did in Italy?”
He offered only a tight nod, letting me know there were details I didn’t need to hear, and I wouldn’t want to, either.
“So when Natalia offered you the job at the restaurant, you took it because you were done with your government contract and . . . what? You decided to quit being a vigilante, too?”
“I didn’t like the person I was, Maria. The path I was on was a dark one. And I knew Bianca wouldn’t approve, so yeah, I decided to quit and leave New York. My brothers agreed to quit as well.” He let go of my hands and shifted back, sinking onto his heels, remaining looking up at me like a man searching for forgiveness. “It’s not like we went around killing everyone we deemed a bad guy, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Well, I wasn’t, but I can’t get that horrific image out of my head now.”
Sure, I loved the morally gray men in romance novels who’d burn down the world for the woman they loved. But that was fiction. Could I handle it in the real world?
“I’m sorry.” He set a fist at his side and pushed up off the floor to stand. “I can tell this is too much for you, and that’s why I didn’t want to make love before you knew the truth. I knew that you—”
“Stop.” I rose to stand before him. “It is a lot, you’re right. And I’m processing, sure. But don’t put words in my mouth.” I grabbed hold of his shirt, and his jaw clenched as he lowered his eyes to my hand. “But I need to know if there’s more to your story. Or any other half-truths. Lies?”
“Maria.” His hand tangled in my hair, cupping the back of my head, demanding my attention. “I’ve only truly lied to you once.”
“What was it?”
Bending in, drawing his lips closer, he exhaled a jagged breath over my skin. “That I could only be your friend.”
He wound my hair around his fist and tugged, drawing my lips up like an offering, and he waited to see if I’d take it or refuse him.
His focus ran down between us, blazing a trail of heat over my skin as he looked at me. Finding my eyes again, he rasped, “I told you before, you hold the power over me, so tell me what you want, Tesoro. Am I letting go of you, or are we making love?”
TWENTY-THREE
Maria
“You know what I want.”
“What are you saying?” I felt the dark murmur of intent in Enzo’s tone all the way down to my toes as he let go of my hair.
“That I accept you for you. I’m not running.” My palm flattened on his chest, his heart beating as wildly as mine. “Be dark. Be the light. Be anything or anyone you need to be,” I rattled on crazily, but it was the truth. “Just be mine.” I innocently shrugged. “That was corny, right? I’m replaying it back in my head, and it was—”
His mouth closed over mine, stealing my words, breath, and, well, he already had my heart, so . . .
His kiss was soft. Delicate. No tongue. A bit unsure, even. Was he still nervous? Worried this wasn’t real?
“Maria,” he whispered against my mouth. “You know the truth, and you still want—”
“Yes, how many times do I have to tell you that? How else can I prove to you that you’re who I want no matter what?” I pleaded. “You have to let go of this guilt. It’s crushing you. Instead, see yourself the way I do. The way I know Bianca would if she were here. Please.”
His brows snapped together, his gaze softening as he considered my words. Then his lips crashed over mine. His tongue plunged into my mouth as the last bit of fight in him to stay away died.
Hoisting my legs around his hips without severing our kiss, I anxiously tugged his dress shirt free from his pants.
“Enzo,” I cried a heartbeat later. “I need to feel you inside me.”
Still holding me, he nuzzled his nose against mine. “You taste like wine, sweetheart. Have you been drinking?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t you dare say you won’t make love to me because I had some wine. I might just lose my mind. Officially.”
“We wouldn’t want that.” His devilish smile had my brain turning to mush as he eased his mouth over mine.
“We do have a problem,” he remarked a beat later while gently placing me on the bed to peel off his shirt. “You’re not on the pill, and I didn’t bring condoms.” Unbuttoning his pants, he let them hang lower on his hips, showing the ridiculously amazing vee lines that I wanted to run my tongue over.
“I have them.” I smiled, focused on the tent he was pitching in his pants.
“Really?”
“Yup. When I went to get M&M’s at the airport, I spotted a package of condoms and on a whim bought ’em.”
“On a whim, hmm?” Kicking off his loafers, he unzipped his pants and allowed them and his boxer briefs to fall to the floor.
I gulped as he took his cock in his hand and began lazily stroking himself. Damn, this is hot.
“Mm-hmm.” I was going to chew a hole in my lip if he didn’t come closer, though. I needed to touch him and soon. “In my purse.” I lifted my chin, directing him to where I’d tossed it.
I was about to rise, but he lifted his free hand, instantly halting my movement.
“Do you want me naked on my back or on my hands and knees?” I licked my lips, proud of the fact that the timid tone was absent from my voice this time.
“Every position sounds perfect to me.” He cocked his head, eyes holding mine. “But right now, I want you naked at the center of the bed like you’re about to pray, ass on your heels, Maria.” The dark edge of desire slicing through his words had my sex pulsing. “Because you’ll be calling out God’s name soon, Tesoro.”
Holy. Shit.
“Strip,” he ordered while stroking his cock.
“Is it wrong that I kind of like to disobey you in the bedroom?” I shared the dark thoughts circling my mind as I remained seated. “I like this feeling of being ‘bad’ when we’re together.” I swallowed. “I feel like I have to be perfect all the time, and with you, I . . .” The way he was staring at me, hand still on his cock, had me biting the inside of my cheek with anticipation.
“Sweetheart.” He angled his head. “You can always be whoever and whatever you want with me.” Then his lips curved at the edges, a delicious promise there. “But if you’re going to be bad, it’d better just be with me.”
My breath caught as my body reacted to his words that were sweet but also delivered a warning. A hint of what might happen if I did “misbehave.” Knowing our time was limited, I wanted to surrender to him and cherish every second before he left. “But I think tonight, I’m going to be your—”
“My good girl,” he remarked in a dark, seductive voice that coated my body in chills and pebbled my nipples.
“Yes,” I whispered, rising to my feet to untie my wrap dress, and he resumed running his hand up and down the length of his shaft.
Slipping my hands to my shoulders, I slowly lowered the top and worked my arms loose from the long sleeves before letting it fall to the ground.
He watched every movement. Every reveal of my soft, tan skin.
The fling of my bra to the floor. Heels and panties a memory off to the side. When I lifted my hair in a mock ponytail, he twirled his finger, demanding a full three-sixty show, and it was one I’d happily give him.
I slowly turned, allowing his heated gaze to devour every inch of my hot skin, offering a view of my heart-shaped ass he seemed to love.
When I faced him again, the look in his eyes was borderline feral. Primitive.