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Sex isn’t something I think about often. I don’t have the time to. Occasionally, I’ll spend some quality time with a vibrating toy in the dark of my private room, or I’ll use the shower head to massage myself to climax. That’s been the extent of the sex life for years. The idea I get off on pissing Enzo off is…
Not that far off.
“Fuck, beautiful girl. If that’s all you need, you can tell me. I’ll take care of you.”
His voice is teasing, but darker than normal. Lower. Deeper.
“I don’t need anything from you.”
Even as I hiss the words out, I have to clench my thighs together. My face feels warm, and I know a bright pink blush has spread through my cheeks.
Anger. It’s from anger.
My refusal only amuses Enzo.
He leans across the table, bringing his face closer to mine. The look in his eyes dares me to move back. I don’t. He rewards me by gliding his knuckles down my face and swiping his thumb over my lips. “We’ll start with ten spanks, but every time you act until we get home, I’ll add five more. If you behave nicely, I might take some off.”
I nip at the thumb pressed against my lower lip. Enzo smiles at me as he leans back in his seat. I try to compose myself. Smile at the waitress when she takes our dishes. The arousal still sits low in my stomach, and it builds every time I think of Enzo following through on his words. Which is ridiculous.
I don’t spank Matteo.
The idea of spanking a fully grown woman is preposterous.
So why does the thought turn me on so much?
“I don’t know who the hell you think you are,” I growl out at him.
“Careful, that’s the closest I’ve ever heard you come to cussing,” he teases me. “Might have to add five more already.”
Damn him.
Chapter Twenty-Two- Enzo
“I’m not sleeping in your bed.”
Mentally, I add five more spankings onto the count I’m keeping in my head. At the rate she’s going, she’s going to have a sore ass for the next several weeks. I’m looking forward to it.
“Emma…” I growl out. She squirms in a way that lets me know she enjoys the way my voice sounds when I use that voice with her. I make a mental note and lock the information away. Anything related to Emma’s pleasure deserves special attention. Like the way she reacts when I talk about spanking that perfect ass of hers.
“Your bed is probably disgusting. I have no interest in coming into contact with the bodily fluids soaked into your mattress.”
It’s a lightbulb moment for me. “That’s what this is about? Jealousy?” I don’t correct her. There’s never been a woman in my bed. Women don’t come home with me. Before Emma, when I did occasionally hook up, it would happen in discrete locations like hotels. Bringing a woman back home is asking for trouble. They’d be an automatic threat, and my father would want them killed in case they came across important information.
I may not be a kind man, but I would never bring an innocent bystander into my world for an orgasm.
“Not jealousy, disgust. I have no interest in sleeping between the sheets you’ve slept with someone else in. Or on the mattress.” Emma has a stubborn look on her face, the one that says she won’t give in. I know exactly how to break down her facade, but unfortunately, I’m driving.
Disgust. Not like she had been working in a hospital and coming into the same vicinity as every form of blood, pus, and gore the human body can produce. I don’t mention that. If she needs these delusions while she comes to terms with everything happening, she can have them.
I use the wireless system in the car to call Andy, putting him on speakerphone so she’ll be able to hear this conversation as well.
“Hey, boss man. Aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now? Doubt your fiancee is too happy with you taking a phone call in the middle of a date,” Andy picks up.
“I need you to get rid of my bed, mattress, couch, desk, and the kitchen table and have them all replaced by the end of the day.”
The decision to add the other pieces of furniture is spontaneous. I don’t know why I say it, except for the fact the implication is that I have used each of those pieces of furniture to fuck a woman. It’s going to drive Emma mad. Possibly mad enough she’ll finally admit there is something more between us. Something real.
“Redecorating, cousin?”
