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“What are you doing to me?” I whispered, then shook my head and finally went in search of the mystery man.
The living room was empty, but his hat was on the couch. He had to be with Chiara, so I went down the hall to her room and gently opened the door, my heart colliding with my rib cage at the sight before me.
Enzo was asleep on the floor by the crib with his muscular, inked arm stretched out. His hand was wedged between the thin slats of wood, and I stepped closer and confirmed my little girl had her hand wrapped around his finger.
And that sight right there ... was a void-filler for sure. Because my heart had never felt so full at the image.
He really did love Chiara, and I didn’t know how to put into words what that meant to me.
I finally peeled myself away from the room, deciding I’d cook for Enzo for a change and make breakfast.
Once in the kitchen, I grabbed what I needed for an omelet and began chopping a bell pepper but flinched at the feel of a hand skimming my silhouette before going to my hip.
“Enzo,” I whispered, my eyes closing at the feel of his cock twitching against my backside.
He brought his mouth to my ear and in a husky voice asked, “Did you sleep well?”
I leaned into him, letting go of the bell pepper and knife. “Better than you, I think. You didn’t need to sleep on the floor.”
“I can’t say no to her, and you know that.” He abruptly spun me around, and my eyes flashed open as his palms landed on the counter.
“You’re so good at saying no to me, though,” I reminded him as his gaze lowered to my pink robe.
“I didn’t last night, did I?” He kept his eyes on my body as he added with a slight smirk, “Are you cold, or do you not want me to see your nipples poke through that flimsy shirt again? Are you trying to behave?”
Holy hell. From zero to sixty this morning? I had been prepared for a different Enzo when he woke up. One who’d act like yesterday never happened and it’d been a mistake. “I, um.” I swallowed when his eyes journeyed back to my face. “Do you want me to behave?”
He cocked his head as if torn on how to answer that, but I could read the desire written into every line of his face. It’d been there for the last two years, I’d just been living in the land of disbelief so I wasn’t unfaithful to a man who never truly had my heart. And it was easy to understand that now, when the man standing before me so clearly owned it.
I reached up and ran a hand through his messy hair. There was just enough to grab hold of, and he angled his head a touch, as if enjoying my fingers running across his scalp. “Maybe you like it when I’m bad, though?”
He lifted his hands from the counter to untie my robe. “I don’t know what to do with you,” he said in a low, conflicted voice. “I made up my mind last night that there’d be no more repeats of what happened, and then I walked out here and saw you and ...”
I let go of his hair, searching for his gaze, but he had his eyes down, hidden from me. “And what?” My nipples poked through the fabric as they went hard, and he shifted the robe from my shoulders and pushed it back so it fell to the floor.
“Now all I can think about is making you come, but this time while you sit on my face,” he said in a soft tone, almost as if he’d lost whatever interior battle he’d been fighting and was giving in.
His eyes closed, and that harsh line of his lips told a different story. He was still resisting. It was a warning to me not to get my hopes up. His hands turned to fists and swooped back alongside me, going to the counter once again to trap me.
He let go of a deep breath and finally looked at me. “Maria, I—” He dropped his words when the bell rang, and his gaze snapped toward the foyer. “Who in the hell would be at your door this early?”
My phone was on silent in the other room. My Apple Watch charging by the bed. If someone had called while I was in the kitchen with my sexy chef, I’d have missed it.
Our “almost a moment” was effectively disrupted, and Enzo went to the door.
I hurried after him, and my body went cold when he swung it open, seeing Thomas there.
My ex had on one of his expensive Tom Ford suits, which was tailored to fit his tall and lean frame. The man had always taken care of himself. Worked out four times a week. Meal prepped. And styled his light-brown hair in just a way to give him a magazine-cover-ready look. He kept his beard trimmed and always smelled nice. He was classically handsome and a little too perfect. He’d always made sure I knew that I wasn’t during our marriage.
I self-consciously flung my arms over my chest when I remembered what I was wearing, worried Thomas would see through the flimsy material, and he lost his right to see me when he stuck his tongue between another woman’s legs.
“I knew it.” Those three words ripped from somewhere deep in Thomas’s chest. Words he’d been saving, ready to throw at me. “That’s why she wanted the divorce. You’re fucking my wife.”
I didn’t make it two steps before Thomas snapped out a punch, but Enzo snatched his hand before contact was made, and he simply held Thomas’s fist in the air like it were a fly he’d caught. “Ex-wife,” Enzo seethed. “And the only reason I’m not putting you on your ass right now is because your daughter is asleep in the other room.”
I touched Enzo’s back, hoping to calm him before his control actually did snap. “What are you doing here?”
Thomas had to look around Enzo to put eyes on me. He jerked his hand away and answered, “I’ve been calling to let you know I was on my way to get Chiara, but it looks like you were busy.”
