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He reaches the juncture between my throat and collar bone and a soft moan escapes from my mouth, he pulls away to look at my face, his eyes dark again like in the restaurant. “I can’t wait to hear you moan my name.” He growls and I blush. I’ve never been shy but for some reason this man makes me feel twelve again. You know when your crush gives you a compliment and you're so happy you could burst but you try to play it off? Yeah. That's how he gets me.
I pull his shirt over his head because I need to see if my imagination got it right. He winces slightly but proceeds to throw it off to the side. No. My imagination has nothing on him. Smooth brown skin, hard muscles, black and purple patches just starting to bloom over his ribs. I may need to see a therapist because the bruises make him ten times more attractive.
More tattoos cover his chest and torso. ‘Death Before Dishonour’ inked just below his heart and ‘Moretti’ in big gothic letters curves over his sternum. My fingers pause their exploration. He’s covered in scars. Old ones, new ones, long ones, small ones. I want to ask why there's so many but that’s way too deep.
This is just sex.
I run my fingers over his pecs and down his abs lightly, not wanting to put any pressure on his bruises all the while marvelling at the hard lines of his body. He’s so stupidly big.
“Ahem.” Both our heads snap quickly to the doorway. Enzo has pulled a gun from god knows where and is pointing it straight at where Benny is standing with a can of coke in his hand and a saccharine smile on his face.
Enzo relaxes slightly and lowers his arm, gun resting on the table just behind me and I shift uncomfortably on his lap being so close to it.
“I hate to be that guy, but if I let this go any further I'll never be able to eat off that counter again,” Benny says pointing his can at the counter my back is resting against.
I can feel myself go fifty shades redder from my toes right up to my hairline as I try to avoid any eye contact, suddenly finding the cream kitchen cupboards very interesting.
“I swear to god I will fucking murder you where you stand if you are not out of my sight in three seconds,” Enzo growls in a raspy voice that, had his kid brother not been in the room, would have turned me into a puddle.
“That's the second time you’ve threatened to kill me in twenty-four hours.” Benny chides.
Enzo closes his eyes taking what seems to be a calming breath, his teeth clenched. “Then heed. The Fucking. Warning.”
Benny holds his free hand up defensively and scurries off with an amused look on his face.
“This is what I get for living with siblings.” Enzo sighs as he tucks his gun back into his waistband and his arms snake around my waist again. “We call him the migraine.”
I let out an embarrassed laugh. “I think that is the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to me.” Enzo’s jaw clenches again and he runs a hand over his eyes. “Well,” I say as I hop off his lap. “It must be really late so I should probably get home. Hannah’s probably worried sick. Can you call me an Uber?”
He shakes his head and stands to grab his t-shirt from the floor. “No, I'll drive you back now.” He pulls it over his head, flinching from the movement. I can't help but watch the material fall over his body. It lingers a little on the gun in his waistband and I wonder what about that makes me so hot when guns make me so uncomfortable.
I grab my purse from the sofa where Benny is sitting. He grins at me and I thrust my middle finger his way causing him to start laughing.
I follow Enzo down the stairs to the parking garage, he takes the keys to the Mercedes G wagon and we jump in. I hold my breath when he starts the car. It roars to life, resonating in my chest and I groan.
He slants me a sideways glance and I shake my head. “That sound, god it’s like drugs.”
He lets out a small laugh. “You should hear the Lambo.”
I nod my head. “I should definitely hear the Lambo.” His lips tug at the corners as we slowly ascend the ramp to exit the garage doors. “I’m convinced you think you're Bruce Wayne with this underground lair. It's giving off serious super rich villain energy.”
He raises a quizzical brow. “Isn’t Bruce Wayne the hero?”
“He's more of an antihero.” He looks at me with a hint of a smile like I've lost the plot. “Okay fine, maybe you're more of a Dead Shot or Bane.” He continues to stare at me with a confused look so I clarify, “They’re villains in the DC universe.” The corners of his lips lift up, almost mockingly. “What?” I ask, my tone turning a little defensive.
He huffs a laugh. “Nothing, I just didn't think you’d be into that kind of thing.”
I shrug my shoulders. “You like what you like.” He nods his head in agreement.
I settle back into the seat getting comfy and watching the mansion disappear in the wing mirror. “So, does all your family live here with you?” It seems stupidly large for just him and Benny and I desperately want to know more about him.
“Luca, Raff and my little sister Francesca do. Benny stays at school during the week so he’s usually only back on weekends.”
“I didn’t realise you had a sister too. How old?” I ask excitedly, I always wished for a sister.
“She's just turned 16. More mature than the rest of us already though.” He sounds proud, almost like a parent would talk about their children. To be honest, he reminds me a lot of a parent. He has that responsible energy that just seems to radiate from him, like you could go to him in any situation and he’d just know what to do.
“Does she not go to school too?” I’m not loving the feeling of Benny getting an education and not her. I know nothing about the mafia that I haven’t learnt from the media and I hear they’re very conservative.
