His expression, softened by lust, hardens like his jaw. “What’s it for?”
I could lie, but there’s no point in that. He’ll see right through me. I struggle to pull up my shirt and bra, covering myself, summoning an explanation.
“Misha gave it to me in case we needed to communicate. I told him you took my phone and gave me one you’d preprogrammed.”
There. Maybe that’ll appease him. It’s the best I can do.
Enzo’s hands clamp back on to my hips, keeping me where he wants me. “Why would the two of you be communicating something I shouldn’t see?”
Damn it. It obviously didn’t appease him at all. “I don’t know. Misha gave it to me, so I took it.”
“And you weren’t going to tell me about it,” Enzo says, a note of warning entering his voice.
“I don’t know if I was going to tell you,” I confess. “This is all really fucking confusing. Do you know how difficult it is to be in my shoes, trapped between two powerful men who are both trying to control me?”
Enzo’s expression shifts. “You see, that’s where you have me wrong. Like I said, I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying to keep you safe. Which is why I’m going to keep the phone in my possession.”
It’s the way Misha expects me to be in contact with him. My heart drops.
“But…I need it.”
“Why?”
“What were you doing, rummaging through my purse?” I demand instead of answering him, outraged at his snoopiness.
“It wasn’t me. It was Antonio. And he didn’t rummage. Your purse fell on the floor at a red light, and shit spilled out of it. When he saw two phones after your little visit to your brother, he rightly told me about it.”
Antonio had insisted on keeping my purse in the front seat. Now I wonder if it wasn’t so he could snoop on his boss’s behalf. Probably.
One of Enzo’s hands slides from my hip to settle between my legs, exerting a light pressure that sends need shooting through me. “Now tell me what’s so important that you need to talk to that piece of shit on a burner phone.”
The pressure grows stronger, and he rocks his palm over me.
“Enzo,” I gasp, chasing his touch.
Needing it.
Needinghim.
“Now, Katya, and I’ll let you come. Then I’ll bend you over the sofa and fuck you so hard and good that you won’t be able to think straight.”
His words elicit an ache deep inside me that starts to blossom, spreading outward. I want him to do everything he just promised.
“He’s angry with you,” I blurt.
It’s the truth, but it’s not the whole truth. I can’t give him that. Not yet.
“Angry with me,” Enzo repeats slowly, as if he’s turning it over in his mind to see if it fits. “Why?”
“He claimed you double-crossed him,” I rush to explain. “He said something about a shipment you were supposed to split with him evenly. That you claimed all the men involved had been killed and the money and the product disappeared. He thinks you stole it.”
“Hmm,” Enzo says slowly. “Interesting.”
He doesn’t elaborate on what he means by that response, and I don’t know what to make of it. But he seems to accept it, because in the next moment, he leans into me and presses his face to my neck, inhaling sharply. Then he runs his nose along my skin and nuzzles my temple.
“Was that so hard, telling me what I wanted to know?” He massages my pussy through my shorts.
“N-no,” I manage.
