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Enzo let go of my hand and slid his to curl possessively around my waist, pulling me close. I noticed the way the bouncer glanced at the move and quickly looked away. Despite the dude being a behemoth size-wise, it was clear Enzo scared him. I didn’t miss the way his body tightened with Enzo’s presence.
And as “wrong” as it was, I felt a hard spear of pleasure in me because of it.
The red, shiny doors were pulled open, and the heavy bump and bass of music spilled out. There was a set of stairs directly in front of us. I cursed myself for thinking these heels had been a good idea, but the slight tightening of Enzo’s fingers around my waist as we walked down them made me feel safe and secure.
I glanced at him through my lashes, and although he seemed relaxed, his profile was masculine with sharp angles. I felt my inner muscles clench painfully, as if my body said screw the club and let him just claim what he wanted.
All of me.
The music was louder at the bottom of the stairs, and in front of us was a short hallway that opened up to the main club. The lighting was dim, broken up by flashes of neon lasers, blacklights, and the unmistakable backlit glow from the bar.
The club was packed, with everyone dancing, grinding their bodies together, the act innocent enough until I really looked and noticed it was reminiscent of sex. A fresh flush moved through my body. Enzo tightened his hold on me, and I glanced up at him. He already watched me, his dark eyes unreadable, but the small lift of his lips had me smiling in return.
He faced forward and started leading us through the club, and I didn’t miss how the women looked at him with clear appreciation in their eyes. I bristled, the jealousy that rose in me confusing and frustrating. Enzo was a gorgeous man, so obviously he’d garner attention. We’d also only been on two dates. I had no claim on him, yet the very idea of anyone else wanting him set me on edge.
Ten minutes later, we were through the roped-off VIP section and sitting, a glass of whiskey in Enzo’s hand and a flute of champagne in mine. I didn’t bother asking if he’d been here before, how it was clear everyone seemed to know him… how everyone seemed to fear him. The answer was clear in all the ways that mattered, in all the ways I already knew. Still, it seemed strange to be here with Enzo when I knew the truth and somehow be okay with it.
Was I okay with it? It wasn’t as if I'd lost sleep thinking about how “bad” he was when he wasn’t with me. It wasn’t as if I wondered how many people he’d killed or the lengths he’d go to get what he wanted. Was I curious? To an extent, but not enough to ask. Not enough to stop seeing him, it seemed.
And what does that say about me? What kind of person was I truly if the man I wanted was a ruthless mafia boss?
I pushed all of those thoughts away and focused on the right now. I didn't want to think about it, didn’t want to try to sift through how I felt with the logical side of me that said to run. I don't want to. I want to give myself over to Enzo in every single way, because it’s the first time I’ve ever felt like this.
The plush velvet loveseat seemed intimate, and even more so when I sat down and he gestured for me to move closer to him.
So here I was, trying to slowly sip my champagne—and not guzzle it—as I all but sat on Enzo’s lap. But I couldn’t deny that his big, hard body felt so very good beside mine.
I’d taken off the cropped faux leather jacket I’d worn that matched my skirt, and even though I wore a white sleeveless knit top that fully covered me, albeit formed sexily against my curvy body, I somehow felt totally bare.
The way he had one thickly muscled arm casually slung over the back of the loveseat, his fingers barely brushing my bare shoulder, made me feel even more aroused.
I took a healthy swallow of the champagne before realizing I totally downed it. As soon as I set the glass down, a scantily clad waitress was bringing over a full flute and taking the empty one.
Before I could grab the full glass, Enzo placed his much bigger palm on top of my hand, causing me to still. I turned my head and looked at him, my belly tightening because he was so close. I felt my face get hot, and I knew it wasn’t only because I was guzzling down the alcohol so quickly. I was also nervous as hell. And aroused. “I’m not a lush or anything. I’m just—”
