“No.”
“No?” he asked.
“Not here,” she said. “We have a bed right there.”
Forgetting his injury, he stood slowly, bringing her up along the way and walking her back to the bed.
“And here we are,” he said.
Her only answer was a charged kiss that cut him off at the knees and brought them both back to the mattress.
12
Michelle focused on the taste of his mouth. The fading flavor of beer was far from strong, but she took some comfort and wondered if she could get drunk by way of his tongue. Her kiss moved deeper still as her arms curled around his neck. She played with the soft edges of his dark locks, and she only came up for air to train her gaze on his shirt.
“Michelle,” he muttered. “I—”
“Stop,” she urged as she started to undo the buttons of his shirt. “There’s really nothing to say.”
Her hands turned into claws as she feverishly worked her way toward his skin and started to bathe his heaving chest in another array of kisses. But she stopped short when she saw the gun still at his side, the crude bandage, and she recalled his injury.
“I… I’m sorry,” she said.
“Michelle, I feel fine. But—”
“You don’t have to finish that sentence.”
She sat up and hunched over the edge of the bed with her head in her hands. Trying to drown out her thoughts, she was startled when he placed the gun into the nearest drawer. He inched closer to her side and wrapped a strong arm around her shoulder.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his blue eyes sparkling in the dim light. Shaking her head, Michelle simply kissed him again, taking her time and trying to be gentle. Which was what he deserved. But something about it didn’t feel right, and she kicked away from the bed and started to tear at her clothes.
“What are you doing?” he asked. She said nothing until her body was bare, and she fell back to the bed as she beckoned him closer.
“What does it look like?” she asked in a husky voice. “If you feel fine, send some of that this way.”
Enzo hesitated for a second before he followed her lead, undressing and settling beside her, bringing the top sheet over their bodies. He reached under the linen and started to touch her. Michelle’s eyes fluttered, and she released a light moan as he stroked her thighs, his finger running up her sides until they came to rest on her breasts. He lowered the sheet to watch his own efforts as he circled her nipples, gently pinching each bud before resuming his soft supple stroke.
“Better?” he asked.
Regaining her focus, she stared hard into his eyes. His soft gaze and tender smile should have given her some comfort, but who was she to deserve such tender treatment when her own father would have seen them both dead, without a second thought?
“No,” she said in a firm tone. “Before was better.”
“What do you mean?”
Her answer came by way of a sound push upon his shoulders. Michelle turned to her stomach and positioned herself on all fours, offering herself to him, wanting to avoid his eyes.
“Like this,” she said, wanting him to take her from behind. She could sense him starting to speak when he resumed running his fingers across her flesh. He made his way down her shoulder blades all the way to the small of her back. She trembled as he tried to rub her tension away, interspersing sweet kisses between each glide of his fingers. Only a few hours earlier, she might have… no. She would have reveled in his delicate touch. But now she felt the need to be punished, and she whipped around to seize hold of his face.
“Don’t be nice to me!” she said.
“What are you saying?” Enzo asked. “You want me to hurt you?”
“Show no mercy,” she insisted.
“Michelle, I can’t—”
“And I can’t stand you being so sweet to me! I don’t deserve it,” she snapped. “I could’ve gotten you killed!”
“Not you,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. “It was your father.”
“Who I trusted,” she continued. “Who played me for a fool. I… I was only…”
Her chest started to heave as she pulled away from the pillows and folded her knees close to her chest, starting to rock back and forth.
“Hey. It’s okay.”
“No. It’s not.” Her head fell as the honey-colored locks spilled across her limbs, and she started to tug at her hair.
“I should have known him better,” she mumbled. “He… he was never nice to me. Not really. He… it was a battle to even get my chance in the kitchen. I never would’ve had any chance if he hadn’t had a stroke. I mean if that was even real.”
Was it possible that the entire situation was a ruse? At this point, she was unwilling to put anything past him. Here she thought she was being a good daughter when she never truly had a father.
“Michelle, no one is mad at you.”
“Right,” she scoffed. Suddenly self-conscious, she wrapped the sheet around her body, balling her body against the bed. She could no longer feel any trace of Enzo’s hands.
“Like this is what you signed up for,” she said through a fresh wave of tears. When he tried to touch her, she waved him off, wanting nothing more than to cry herself to sleep. Not that she would have anything in the way of good dreams, but maybe he would take the hint and just leave her alone.
“What are you doing?”
With a sigh that still suggested beer, Enzo brought his breath over her body and began to run his lips up and down her neck. She nearly protested a second time around when he gently placed a hand over her mouth.
“Not because I don’t want you to talk,” he said. “I just want a chance to change your mind.”
She offered no resistance as his trail of kisses continued, and Michelle reached back in search of his face, wanting to feel his smile under her fingertips. Catching it for a brief second, she moaned into his palm as Enzo’s free hand met hers. Their fingers locked, and she felt the sheet start to ease away from her body. But rather than leaving her naked and alone, Enzo cuddled close to her. His chest, injuries and all, began to press against her back, and he released her mouth as he whispered into her ear.
“I’m not about to punish you,” he said.
“Fiorenza will,” she responded. As much as she wanted to sink deeper into his embrace and pretend that the night was merely a bad dream, she had blood on her hands. Didn’t that mean even more danger for her? And for Enzo?
Enzo used the hand wet with her stray kisses to reach between her thighs and open up her essence. “My family’s on it,” he promised her. “Try not to think about.”
“I can’t just turn my mind off!”
“Yes,” he urged. “You can. I’m going to help you.”
Michelle held her breath along with his hand as she felt his hard cock push between her thighs. This is what she had asked for, to be taken from behind, to be used. But Enzo flipped the script. He eased his way into her mound and rested there for several seconds. His pulse caused her to shudder, and he brought his hand close to her mouth. Kissing his fingertips, she used her free hand to touch his bandaged wound.