Page 76 of Give Me the Bad Boy


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I hadn’t spoken to him when he’d come to the office four weeks ago, but I heard his deep voice—even now, it still played through my head like a caress. His voice pierced through everything else that day and had this tightening start in my belly.

But I hadn’t allowed myself to dissect the other things his voice had caused within my body. Because the physical reaction to the sight and sound of him, even the smell of his rich and spicy cologne as it surrounded me when he walked by, had been so sudden and foreign that it confused and scared the hell out of me.

Aside from knowing his first name, the only other thing I’d found out was that he owned part of Seeking Curves and had come in to look over figures and trends of the business.

I was frozen in place, my hands hovering over the keyboard, my eyes feeling as big as saucers as I stared out the front windows and watched the driver side door open. And then he got out, all long, strong limbs covered in a dark suit. He was tall, well over six foot, and despite the sleek material that covered him from neck to ankle, I could see the muscular power underneath.

He shut the door and turned, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes, the sun shining down and making his short, inky-black hair gleam. He walked with an air of authority, his suit molded to his hard, big body, my eyes drawing to the way I could see the muscles flexing underneath the fabric.

I realized I was breathing harder as I let myself look the length of him, at the way the first few buttons of his crisp white shirt were undone at his collar. The swatch of smooth olive skin could be seen, a contrast to the snow-colored material of his shirt.

My body started tingling, my nipples hardening under my silk blouse, the private place between my thighs softening and heating. Oh God, I was getting wet. I smoothed my hands up and down my pencil-skirt clad thighs, my palms suddenly damp as adrenaline rushed through my veins. And still I couldn’t take my focus off the man coming closer.

Enzo pulled the front door open and stepped inside. The LA heat rushed into the air-conditioned interior, causing instant beads of sweat to form along my temples. Or maybe it had nothing to do with the heat and everything to do with the man striding purposefully right toward me.

I watched him move and had to tip my head back to keep my attention on his face. He stopped a foot from the front desk, and I realized my eyes felt wide and my lips were parted. God, I probably looked like some kind of starstruck fool. That’s how I felt at least.

I was the only one in the front office at the moment, so I finally blinked back to reality and focused on being professional. “Hi,'' I whispered. The corner of his mouth curled as if he suppressed his smile. I cleared my throat and said a bit louder, “I’m sorry. Welcome to Seeking Curves.” I only knew his first name from overhearing others and didn’t want to be unprofessional by addressing him as such. “How can I help you?”

He lifted his hand, and I was drawn to the sight of it, at the few scars that littered the back, at the way I noticed dark ink slightly creeping out from under the cuff of his shirt. He removed his sunglasses and tucked them into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, his attention never leaving my face.

“Would you like me to get Tristan?” My voice sounded throaty, and I cleared it again. Tristan was the manager of the office and the only one with any authority right now.

“No. I came here to see you.”

His words had my eyes widening even more, and I felt heat cover my face as embarrassment filled me. “Me?” That lone word was almost a squeak.

He slowly grinned, straight white teeth flashing. But despite the friendly gesture, he still seemed very dangerous. And that had an unusual thrill moving through me hard enough I clenched my thighs together.

“Enzo Santini.” His name rolled off his tongue in an exotic, sexy way that had me flushing even more. He held his hand out, and I looked at it for a second too long to be socially normal.

I snapped out of it and took the offered palm, his skin warm and strong and so very masculine. He encompassed my entire hand in his, then surprised the hell out of me by bringing my knuckles to his mouth, inhaling softly, then placing a kiss along them.

Oh God.

My body lit up like the Fourth of July. And the entire time, he kept his gaze locked right on me. “Bianca,” I whispered, then cleared my throat. “Bianca Alfonso.”

For long moments, we said nothing, just stared at each other, and I felt totally on display, as if there was no chance I could control myself or what came out of my mouth.

Enzo leaned forward and braced his forearms on the desk, and I looked down at how attractive eventhatpart of his body was.

“Bianca.” He said my name low, deeply. It sounded far more sexual than it should have as it rolled off his tongue. “Go to dinner with me.” His voice, that deep and smooth tenor, sent a shiver through me. But I didn’t miss the underlying arrogance laced within those words. It was very clear this man was used to getting what he wanted and probably didn’t hear the word “no” very often.

I lifted my brows in surprise as I felt my eyes widen once again. “W-What?” I hated that my voice faltered.

“Dinner,” he said smoothly. “I’d love to share a meal with you, Bianca.”

I blinked back to reality and straightened. I found this sassy side of me rising up and cocked an eyebrow at him, surprised I could actually think rationally right now. Enzo straightened as he went to his full height. Although he seemed easygoing right now, a part of me knew this man was anything but. It was clear he was constantly aware of his surroundings. I didn’t miss how he kept glancing around, as if making sure no immediate threats or dangers presented themselves.

His dark gaze found me again after he’d done another sweep of the office interior. I couldn't deny that his focus on me was a little unnerving. He made me feel bared, as if nothing covered me and I sat before him completely naked.

“Are you asking or demanding?” I saw the slightest twitch of his lips, as if he tried to suppress his amusement.

After a moment, he said, “Asking.”

There was that tone again—arrogant, so very sure I’d say yes. I should have immediately turned him down because of that alone, but I couldn't find my voice. My skin tightened as I looked into his nearly black eyes. There wasn't only arrogance that surrounded him, but this thick danger too. A little warning bell inside me went off, telling me to tread carefully.

I should have listened.

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