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My stomach dropped, and I felt the panic starting to rise. I needed to escape. But I was too far gone, and so was Enzo. He turned my head when I tried to look away, holding my gaze as his lips parted. It was like he wanted to say something. However, he sealed his lips, grabbed my wrist and fucked me like he was never going to see me again.
I came to the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, spraying his wall with a stream of cum as I yelled his name. Enzo rested his forehead against my shoulder. Even when he was done, we stayed together, panting and holding onto each other while water rained down on our bodies.
It was as if neither one of us wanted to move. Enzo wrapped his arms around me, and I knew the second we stepped apart the illusion would shatter and the real world would come crashing back in.
* * *
“Here.”
Enzo offered me a towel as I sat on the edge of his bed. I took it, pushing it through my hair to dry off the strands. My gaze moved up to watch Enzo as he walked around his bedroom. He wasn't in a hurry to get dressed, that much was clear. I watched an errant bead of water travel down the curve of his ass, and I sucked in a breath.
Fuck. He looks so good it should be illegal.
When he looked at me, I glanced away. I need to get the hell out of here. When I looked back, Enzo was still staring at me.
“I should go,” I said.
Enzo nodded.
Neither of us moved.
The man was going to turn me into a crazy person. Every chance he got, he made me question everything I knew about him, the cold, hard facts in his files. I could almost see him as a different man. Someone with a dangerous edge, sure. But not the murderous psychopath he was.
I can’t take him staring at me anymore.
“What was that? Earlier?” I asked. “You kind of just… froze.”
“Downstairs?” Enzo asked.
“Yeah.”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing important. Sometimes I just get…” He trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the floor and then back at me as if he was only just remembering I was there. “It’s not important,” he finished. He paused for a while. “Are you staying?”
I blinked at Enzo. Did he just invite me to stay the night? I didn’t know what to say to that. In another life, I would have happily stayed in his bed, hoping for another round or two. As I gazed at Enzo, though, I knew I had to get out of there.
Standing up, I folded the towel without thinking and placed it on his bed. “I should really get going. I have work.”
Work that you know about. You know I’m a cop. Hell, maybe you even know I’m investigating you.
The words hung between us in the air, unspoken. A blanket of tension covered us both. Enzo’s expression flickered for a brief second, and I saw a look of… was that disappointment? Disdain? Anger? The world shifted beneath my feet, and the immediate urge to make the situation right flared.
He killed his lover. And he killed a cop. Probably more than one in his lifetime. Think straight, Tex. There is nothing between us.
Right. The only way for Enzo Vitale to help me was for him to wind up behind bars and for me to finally make detective. That was my dream. My only reason for existing was to prove that I could do what my father did, but so much better. To show him and everyone else that I was no longer the screw-up they all knew I used to be.
Clothes flew into my face. I grabbed at them, and Enzo nodded to the clothes he’d tossed at me. Mine were still soaking wet and lying in a balled-up heap in the shower. I had no choice but to slip into his black sweats and the soft, blue t-shirt. He gave me a jacket as well, and I slipped it on as he stood there, staring at me.
“Enzo—”
“You can see yourself out,” he said, his tone clipped. When I turned away, he called my name. I glanced back at him. “Make sure you don’t show up here again.”
Red hot anger flashed through me. I kept my mouth shut, nodded, and exited his room before I said something that would get me killed. I snagged my shoes, shoving my feet inside. Something poked me in the sole. I removed my sneaker and glanced inside. USB port. Somehow, I had forgotten all about it.
Bile rose in my throat, mixing with the anger. There was no telling what I was going to find on that thing. I made a beeline for the door, resolving myself to find out the truth.
No matter how much it hurt.
