Let Me Love You

“I was upset. Drunk. Out-of-my-mind angry,” Enzo shared, his voice distant and detached as if it weren’t his story. “And I don’t know what possessed me to go to the church that night, but I stumbled in there like some crazy person, and someone called the cops. Turns out, the police were already looking for me.

“I guess I went there hoping I’d hear her voice. Have her tell me that what I did was okay because it was for her,” he went on, his tone rough with emotion. “We would’ve all gone to prison for years, but we were offered an unusual arrangement instead. And that included a cover-up story as to how he really died. And no, it wasn’t from a car accident.”

When he eased his arm free from my touch and changed lanes, I had a feeling he was done with sharing, and for once, I didn’t press him for more. I wasn’t quite ready to hear how he actually killed the man. And maybe I never needed to know those details.

I stowed my phone in my purse and kept my eyes on the window the remainder of the drive until we parked in front of his place.

I’d expected some fancy penthouse in the sky, not a stately brick town house with hints of Greek revivalism in the design. I’d dabbled in art and architecture in college, though quickly realized I lacked an important skill: drawing. But I’d always admired the beauty of certain buildings from my studies. And this was definitely a stunning home.

“Come on. We won’t be long.” He hopped out, then rounded the car to open the door for me before heading to the Suburban behind us. He exchanged a few words with the driver while I waited at his doorstep.

His eyes held mine when he climbed the few steps to get to me, and then he cleared his throat and wordlessly let us in. He stopped the wailing alarm with a code inside the foyer as I asked, “How many stories?” Yeah, I suck at small talk.

“Including the cellar and the roof deck,” he began while discarding his sunglasses on a table in the foyer, “six. This is the parlor floor. The pool is at the garden level right below us.”

“You have a pool inside your house?” I tried to mask my shock, but I knew I was failing as I did a slow three-sixty, taking in the modern and opulent interior. “This is what money looks like, huh?”

“I guess so. I, uh, didn’t design it. This place isn’t me.” He pocketed his hands, an uneasy look crossing his face, and I couldn’t quite place why. “I’m going to my office. You’re welcome to wait here or look around. Up to you.” And with that, he went toward the stairs and disappeared.

I found myself meandering around the “parlor” level, which sounded too fancy for me, then made my way downstairs to check out the pool. My jaw dropped at the sight of a wet bar extending the length of the long, narrow pool with cozy-looking gray couches on the other side. “A waterfall?” I mumbled when spying the cascading water going into the pool, unsure why it was even running if he didn’t live there. And for that matter, why did such an unlived-in space look so clean?

I swiped my hand along the bar top as I passed by. No dust.

I circled the pool, and my heart stopped at the sight of a flash of red exposed beneath one of the couches. I snatched the material, and my shoulders fell at the realization it was a small pair of red bikini bottoms. Well, more like a string bikini.

Did he have women over when he visited home? With the bikini bottoms still dangling from my finger, I tried to remember the last time he’d been to New York, deciding I wanted to damage my heart a bit more at the fact it’d been this year after my split with Thomas.

So you chose to screw someone here instead of me?

“They’re not mine.” The deep voice had me flinching and letting go of the bottoms. Enzo rounded the pool, slowly walking my way.

“Obviously.” I had no right to be jealous, and yet, I was consumed by that feeling right now.

Enzo stopped before me, leaving only a touch of space between us. “You’re upset?”

I looked over at the pool, realizing he had me trapped there unless I managed to maneuver around him or swim to the other side. “Is this another reason you keep this place? So you can have women over when you visit?”

I will not cry. I will not cry. The mantra ran through my head, but along with it were images of a bunch of hot bikini-clad women in his pool all vying for his attention. Maybe they even swam in the nude? I’m a grown woman. A mother. I don’t get jealous.

“Maria.” Enzo reached for my chin, forcing my eyes on him. “You’re jealous?” His faint accent I rarely heard anymore was there that time.

“I’m not.”

“You know it’s pointless to lie to me, right?” He arched a brow, continuing to hold my face.

“It’s fine. You’re a man. You have needs, and I wasn’t meeting them.” I lifted a hand between us, attempting to shove at his forearm so he’d let go of me. I didn’t need him to see the wobble in my chin and the stupid jealousy as it leaked from my eyes, betraying my words.

Frustrated, more so with myself and my reaction to a pair of bikini bottoms, I did my best to turn and escape him. His hand left my chin but only to snatch my cheeks with both palms. “I do have needs, cara mia,” he rasped. “And I told you I’ve been jerking off like it’s my second job because of you.” And then he stepped forward and back we both went. Right into the pool.

I shot up from the water and whipped back my hair, gasping from the shock of what had happened. We were in the shallow end, so I could stand. And when my eyes landed on Enzo, he was shoving his hair back, nostrils flaring. His shirt clung to his frame, molding to every muscular, hard line of his body.

He patted the water at his side. “Alessandro uses this place when he doesn’t want a woman to know where he lives. Hell, he probably spends more time here than his own home, which must be why the waterfall is running. He was probably just here.”

Alessandro? I didn’t want my shoulders to fall with such obvious relief, but there they went. “So you don’t . . .”

He shook his head and stared into my eyes. “No,” he firmly said, “I don’t.” And then his lips slanted over mine, effortlessly guiding my legs around his hips so my ankles locked behind him. He deepened the kiss, his tongue finding mine.

I melded into him, but my soaked, clingy turtleneck felt like a barrier between us I wanted to be free of so I could feel his lips trail down my neck as he’d done in his bedroom earlier. “I need this off. Now,” I begged.

He let go of me only long enough to peel off the top, then flung it into the water.

My breasts heaved up and down as he studied me, and I reached behind my back and unclipped my bra. I slowly slid the straps down and tossed it next. The water may have been warm, but goose bumps covered my skin and had my nipples erect.

He cupped his jaw, meeting my eyes. “You really are a distraction,” he murmured. “I didn’t think anything or anyone could get me to . . .” He snatched my wrist and pulled me back to him, and in one fast movement, he had me sitting on the ledge of the pool. “You’re making me forget.”

“Forget why we’re here?” I panted, a pinch of guilt hitting me.

“Forget the pain,” he gruffly said, and before I could respond, he brought both hands alongside my body and leaned in, circling his tongue around my belly button. He slid his lips a little higher, then tipped his chin to locate my gaze. “I want you, Maria. So damn much,” he admitted, “but I do need to focus. There’s a lot at stake.”

I nodded in understanding, but then why wasn’t he moving? Why was he still staring at me with heat in his eyes as if I were his everything?

“I need to remember the pain. Live in it. Exist with it,” he went on. “Or I won’t be able to do what I need to.”

Ohhh. Now I understood the dark, conflicted look in his eyes. “So you can kill?” I whispered, and he quietly nodded. “But I’m here so I don’t lose you,” I reminded him, keeping my voice gentle, but the need between us was still so strong. It was like a vibration between our bodies. Pounding. Relentless. Determined.

When he unexpectedly dragged his hands down my body and unbuttoned my jeans, my heartbeat slipped all the way between my legs. “But just because I need to feel pain to press forward doesn’t mean I want you to be in any.”

What are you saying?

He palmed my sex over my jeans, freeing a trapped moan from my lips. “You need relief, and I want to give it to you before we go.”

“No.” I shook my head. “You don’t need to worry about me. Not like that.”

I wanted to keep him from going dark, but I also didn’t want to stop him from finding Bianca’s killer. He’d never forgive himself if her killer got away, and if I’d been to blame, I’d never forgive myself.

So no, he didn’t need to get me off right now. Because he was right. There was a lot at stake.

“I’ll always worry about you.” He effortlessly hoisted himself up from the pool next to me, then bent down and reached for my hands, guiding me to my feet. “And I don’t want you hurting for any reason.”

“No, really.” My face was on fire. Probably every inch of me when he pulled me tight to his body, and I felt his dick twitch against the fabric of his wet pants.

He ignored my words and snatched my forearms, resting them over his shoulders as if we were about to slow dance, but then he lifted me, tossing my legs over his arms as he held me tight like I was his to keep.

Without ever losing hold of me, he slipped off his wet shoes and carried me around the pool and to the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

“My room.” He paused on the first step and peered into my eyes. “Alessandro wouldn’t have used it, don’t worry.”

“I, um, wasn’t thinking about him. Trust me,” I said as he swallowed my last word with a soft kiss, and then he finished the climb. Two more levels after that, never letting go of me. And I was certain he could carry me up a hundred flights of stairs without losing his breath.

He nudged the door to his room open with his shoulder, and I looked around the space. All cold, clean lines. No pops of color. Well, unless gray counted.

The blinds were only partially drawn closed, allowing the space to be dimly lit. Walking me over to a bed that could easily fit five, he sat me down and knelt before me.

My hands went to his shoulders as he removed each ankle boot. Socks next. Then he looked up at me, his wet lashes only making his eyes appear even sexier as he stared at me. “It’s time I get you off with my mouth.”

Was this happening? Here? Now? And why was I so freaking nervous?

His gaze roamed over my breasts and up to my lips, which were now a match to my nipples again, since he’d surely kissed the lipstick free.

“You know enough of the truth now, so if you don’t want me to . . .”

I reached for his head and slipped my fingers through his hair as I gently pulled him closer, letting him know I had no plans to leave.

“I need this right now more than I need anything else.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as if he was trying to wrap his head around what that meant. He needed me more than justice?

“Okay.” I chewed on my lip, the nerves still getting to me. It’d been so long since anyone had been between my legs like that. Thomas had rarely gone down on me. But more than that, Enzo was . . . Enzo. The man I’d been picturing all year, and now here he was, about to fulfill those fantasies. And for the love of God, could I get out of my head and back into the moment? For Pete’s sake.

“Maria?” A surprising grin flashed across his lips. “You back with me?”

I released his hair and rested onto my forearms to find his eyes. “I’m back.”

“Good.” He smiled. “I like you here with me.” There was something so honest and sweet in how he’d said those words that it had my heart squeezing. His gaze traveled down the length of my body to what would be mission impossible: removing wet skinny jeans.

Apparently, not so hard for him. Because he had me on my feet and the jeans off within seconds. The man was good. Damn. And now I stood before him in only a pair of black satin panties.

“You’re beautiful,” he said before dropping his mouth over mine, kissing me as if I were his lifeline, and I was able to offer him oxygen and a second chance.

His mouth trailed a hot line from my lips to my neck while his palms went to my ass, and he squeezed.

As he gently sucked and nipped at my neck, my eyes fell shut at the sensations burning through me. Heating every part of my body with need.

“I’m fucked up,” he said against my neck. “Wanting to leave my mark on you. All over your perfect body.”

But I loved it. I buried my fingertips in his back, drawing myself closer to him. My breasts smashed against his wet shirt. “Please, take this off. Be naked with me.”

He freed us of our entangled state and a look of hesitation washed over his handsome features, but then he tugged the dress shirt free from his pants and worked at the buttons. My knees buckled when he removed his pants next.

Standing before me in only black boxer briefs now, the beautiful, inked man before me demanded to be studied. God, I wanted him.

I swallowed the fraction of space between us and skated my palm down his sternum, and he didn’t stop me when I slid my hand into the opening of his briefs to hold his cock.

He was breathing hard.

Restraint seconds from snapping.

His jaw was strained as he stared at me while I swirled a finger around the crown of his shaft; then I eased my palm up and down the length of him.

“No more,” he growled out, giving me only a handful of seconds to touch him. “I’ll lose my control, Tesoro. And that’s one thing I can’t afford to do right now.”

I relented, even though I didn’t want to, and stepped back, bumping into the bed. I would’ve fallen, but he snatched my wrist and hauled me against him.

His lips crashed over mine. Hands on my cheeks. Then in my hair. He was touching. Tasting. As much of me as possible.

He slid my panties down to my ankles a moment later and raked his gaze over me, his eyes settling at my swollen clit. “Fucking beautiful,” he hissed before reaching between my legs to cup my sex.

He fisted my hair with his other hand, tipping my head back. He slanted his mouth back over mine, taking my tongue. And every coherent thought, too.

And before I knew it, he had me back on the bed, but he didn’t join me. He remained at the edge, shoved down his boxer briefs, then fisted his cock a few times, simply staring at me.

“On all fours.” The rough demand had chills chasing down my spine.

Shyness took over, and I bent my knees to my chest, hiding my body. “Why?”

He angled his head and wet his lips. “Because I’m going to eat your pussy from that angle. Not just because I want that gorgeous ass in my face but because I’ll just miss that spot of yours you love me touching so much, and it’ll make you slightly delirious.”

My knees parted a little at the promise of what was to come, but I didn’t fully surrender. “And do I want to be delirious?” I mean, do I? This was all new for me. My life had been vanilla with a side of vanilla before this man.

“You do, trust me.” He pointed to my legs with his free hand, continuing to stroke his cock while his abdominal wall flexed and tightened. “Now, show me that greedy cunt of yours. I know you want me to see it. Show me how fucking wet you are.”

God, he was right. I slowly spread open my legs and touched myself. “What happens next, after you, um, kiss . . . um . . .” I read books, sure. But dirty talk in real life? Could I do it?

A devilish smirk passed across his lips. “After I eat your pussy, just missing that sweet spot, I’ll flip you over and give you what you need.”

He let go of himself and climbed onto the bed. He reached for my leg and set a kiss on the top of my foot, then my knee. He worked his mouth all the way up, kissing my inner thighs without touching my sex, which was slightly agonizing.

“On your hands and knees,” he demanded in a rough voice as he shifted to my side to allow me to obey.

Once in position, his hand skated down my spine, and I arched like a cat with my ass in the air. When he set his lips to my wet sex, I cried out his name and bunched the bedding, fisting the fabric. He stroked, sucked, and feverishly licked. But as promised, he just missed that tender area, which had me borderline crazy.

I bucked and moved. Shifted. Even did some freaking Pilates thing to try and get my ass higher in the air, desperate for his mouth to hit that one spot, but he didn’t give it to me. Instead, he kept bringing me to the edge, and the anticipation of what was to come had me dizzy.

“Enzo,” I begged between pants as he flicked his tongue against that spot for one torturous second.

His fingertips bit into the sides of my ass as he kept me locked in place. I cried and pleaded for relief, never having experienced anything like this in my life.

Delirious? Yeah, he was right.

I wasn’t sure how long he’d feasted on me, but then he swatted my ass so hard, it stung. I didn’t have time to react to the delicious sensations coursing through me at the contact, because he flipped me over and pinned my body beneath his.

My legs went over his shoulders while he sank his mouth over my pussy, and I may have died for a second when he set his mouth over the sensitive area and licked.

He was right. I’d never felt like this before. Never knew I could even feel like this.

I was panting, gasping for breath as every part of my body tensed, and the muscles in my legs went tight, and then I exploded. And screamed. Cried and melded into the mattress with relief.

That wasn’t an orgasm. It was an out-of-body experience. I’d seen the other side. And it’d been beautiful. Because he’d been with me. He didn’t take my virginity, but he took my soul. I was certain of that.

“Enzo.” My whole body collapsed as I came down, breathing hard.

He worked his mouth over my stomach before climbing on top of me, and he locked our hands together over my shoulders.

“You taste amazing, Tesoro.”

Tesoro. I loved my nickname from him so damn much. “I wouldn’t know,” I teased, trying to smile, but every part of me was spent, even my lips. And yet, I’d give anything for him to be inside me.

“Be with me,” I whispered, my eyes watering a little. “Please.”

A rough sound left his mouth as he rotated his hips, allowing his thick cock to slide over my soaked sex, and he tightened his hold on my hands.

He closed his eyes, and I could see the battle. The indecision in the lines of his face and the tight draw of his lips.

“I’m yours. I’ll always be yours,” I reminded him. “Take me, please.”

“Are you on the pill?” he gritted out, and heaven help me, was he finally going to give in?

“No, I’m not,” I admitted. “Why torture myself when I’m not even having sex, you know?” But then my stomach dropped when I caught a shadow from the doorway. “Enzo,” I cried in shock.

He was off me in a second and standing at the realization one of our security guys was there.

Enzo snatched the comforter at the side of the bed and covered me with it before facing the man even though he was still naked and rock-hard.

“I’m so sorry.” The guard had a hand in the air, but he didn’t bother to close his eyes or shield his face from the view of the sexy Italian before him. “You were gone a long time. No answer on your phone. The door was unlocked. I heard her screaming.”

Enzo’s hands snapped to his sides. “And you were standing in my door long enough to get fucking hard?”

“It was a second,” the man mumbled. “I’m so sorry, sir.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” Enzo roared, his shoulder blades drawing together.

“It was a mistake,” I spoke up, trying to be Enzo’s voice of reason, worried he’d burn the man’s retinas because he’d seen me sprawled out naked and sated from an orgasm.

At this point, I no longer questioned the lengths Enzo would go to keep me safe or to protect my dignity.

The security guard nervously shoved both hands through his sandy-blond hair, his eyes now apologetically on the floor.

“You’re fired,” Enzo remarked while going to his dresser, and he snatched a pair of gray sweats and put them on. “I’m going to walk you out to make sure you don’t lose your way.”

“Enzo, don’t . . .” Don’t what? Hurt him? Push him down the stairs?

Enzo shot me a grave look from over his shoulder. “I’ll grab our suitcases from his SUV. Stay here.” And then he left with the guy, and I waited until I could no longer hear their steps to get up.

I didn’t want to face his parents smelling like sex, and I knew our untimely interruption would prevent Enzo from resuming where we’d left off.

So I went into his adjoining bathroom. Luxury at its finest, that was for sure. But the man had a pool and waterfall in his house, so what did I expect?

I turned on his shower. Well, the four showerheads, and it took only a handful of seconds to warm up, unlike my place back home that took an eternity.

This home wasn’t what Enzo really liked, though. He didn’t give a shit about this stuff, right? He was happy with his life in Charlotte, wasn’t he?

Or was it crazy for me to think cooking in a kitchen to make a modest paycheck was enough for a man who grew up in a fancy city with all the finest of things?

He chose Charlotte. He chose to leave this place, I reminded myself as the warm water ran over the contours of my body. But chills pricked my skin as the nagging thoughts penetrated my mind. But he kept this place. Maybe he always planned to come back, and for good?