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CHAPTER NINE

Valentina

“Remember when you had to hide under my bed that time the maid busted in on us?” I ask, choking on laughter as I stumble out the back door at Lita’s, my head a little woozy from the whiskey.

“I’ll do you one better.” Enzo chuckles, holding me steady. “Remember when I camped in your treehouse because your dog caught me trying to climb into your window and chased me across the lawn?”

“You’re so fucking ridiculous,” I say with a grin. He laughs, his dimples deepening and making me melt. The whiskey runs through my blood, making me bold and carefree. “But I love it.”

I lean in, pulling him closer by the lapel. His breath ghosts mine, and my insides shimmy and vibrate at the thought of kissing Enzo again after all these years.

“What the…”

I pull away, my face flushed with embarrassment. I’ve misread all of this—he doesn’t want me anymore.

“I’m sorry, Enzo,” I stammer. “I thought?—”

“No, Lenny, look.”

I follow the line of his finger to his car. It’s covered in a fine layer of snow from the storm we encountered driving to Lita’s. But the snow isn’t what he’s pointing at.

I gasp and rush forward, pulling him along with me. Someone’s drawn a heart on the windshield of Enzo’s car.

“What the fuck?” he growls, glancing around.

“E + 8,” I read. “Enzo + 8? Like The8?”

My hand immediately slides to my holster, and I slip my gun out. We cover each other’s backs as we scope out the parking lot, our guns ready, but we’re alone out here.

Enzo checks the backseat and the trunk before we climb inside his ridiculously overpriced car.

“They must have followed us,” I say, glancing nervously out the window.

“Or there’s a tracker on the car,” he counters.

We pull over so fast that I almost get whiplash. I watch with bated breath as Enzo whips out his phone and logs into some sort of database.

“What is this?”

“I spent a few years compiling and automatically updating every tracking device sold in this state,” he explains as he punches in some code. “Fuck.”

He shoots out of the car, and I rush to follow. We circle the vehicle, desperately trying to find the device. When Enzo tugs a tiny plastic box out of the wheel well, fear seeps into my bones.

Does my car have a tracker? Can they put trackers on people? I never learned about this tech shit.

The drive back to my car, still parked at 23rd and Mavis, is silent. Whatever slightly joyful, nostalgic mood we were in earlier has dissipated like smoke. When we pull up to my car, a bout of shivers hits me and my skin breaks out in goosebumps.

“Let me check yours,” Enzo says, pulling out his phone and studying the database. After he confirms that my vehicle is clear, I move to get out, but something stops me.

“Enzo? I…” I pause, wondering if I’m overstepping.

“What is it?”

His look of concern floods my heart with warmth, and I know that if nothing else, he still cares for me in some way. So, I lay my cards on the table.

“Alfonso took Matilda back to California tonight to visit my parents for a few days,” I start, playing with my rings nervously. “And I have guards and stuff, but I just…”

“Get to the point, will ya?” he jokes, smiling softly at me. “I’m already dying to say yes.”

“I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Lenny, I thought you’d never ask.” He grins. “Let’s switch cars, though, since yours is clear. I’ll get one of my guys to do a second sweep of mine and deliver it to my place.”

We speed down the darkened streets as my cheeks turn to fire. He knows what I want. This isn’t an innocent sleepover.

In the elevator, I marvel at the beautiful Art Deco design and gold filigree climbing up the mirrors. I’m talking a million miles a minute, trying to fill the empty space between us. Enzo just watches me with a smirk, his gaze moving from my lips to my eyes and back.

I fluster, remembering this is how he always made me feel back then—like I’m all-powerful yet powerless in his presence. Finally, as the elevator dings open on the penthouse floor, Enzo slides his finger across my lips and shushes me.

I take a grateful breath and step into his luxurious apartment. Before I can joke about his standard-issue bachelor pad, he slams me against the wall and crushes his lips to mine. I gasp, overwhelmed and intoxicated by the smell and feel of him on me.

“Wait, Enzo…” I try to protest. My brain speeds through a million excuses I could use to nip this in the bud, but I come up short.

I don’t want this to stop. I need this—need him.

His ragged breathing on my neck brings me back to the present. He’s stopped kissing me, but holds me pressed against the wall with his body.

“Tell me what you want,” he begs, and I know I’m driving him wild, sending mixed signals.

What do I want? I want him, every single inch of him. I want his taste, his mouth, his hands—I want to feel it all again.

“You,” I whisper. “I want you.”

He groans and slips his ice-cold hands under my sweater, sliding them up slowly as he kisses his way down my neck.

My skin breaks out in goosebumps at the frigid touch and sends shivers down my body. His hot mouth quickly replaces his fingers, trailing across my ribs and warming up the frozen parts of me.

This combination of cold and hot sends my body into a flurry of excitement and confusion. I tug at his jacket, quickly stripping off his shirt. For a second, I just stare at the beauty in front of me—Enzo, with those gorgeous watercolor tattoos splashed across his chest and arms, on his knees.

He shoots me a wicked smile that knocks the air out of my lungs. My pants disappear in seconds and then he’s parting my legs, looking like he’s desperate to taste me.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he moans. “How many times I fantasized about this.”

I eye the elevator, realizing it could open at any time, and I’ll be caught here with my pants down. Pleasure quickly replaces panic as Enzo’s tongue slips between my legs.

I moan, pressing myself flush against the wall. He slides his hands under my ass, hoisting my knees over his shoulders, and I’m suddenly suspended in the air, legs wide open.

“Fuck,” I breathe out as my eyes flutter closed. “Please, Enzo.”

I watch our reflection in the floor-to-ceiling hallway mirror with fascination and lust, just like the last time I touched him.

Enzo’s back muscles ripple with the exertion of holding me up while he buries his face between my legs. I trail my fingers through his silky sun-kissed hair and close my eyes, savoring the feeling of him.

His tongue swirls and licks, exploring every single inch of me. When he settles into a pattern and rhythm I like, I lose control.

“That’s it.” I find my voice again and use it to beg for what I want. “Right there, don’t stop.”

My orgasm hits me so hard I nearly topple us both onto the floor, but Enzo hangs on for dear life, letting me go wild. He moans through my orgasm, the vibrations on my pussy sending me straight into a state of pure bliss.

When I slump in his arms, spent and satisfied, he grins up at me and licks his lips.

“It’s been too long since I’ve tasted heaven,” he says with mock sadness. I give him a playful shove and hop down to the floor.

“So cheesy, Enzo,” I tease. “Cheesecake Factory-level cheesy.”

He bounces up, shoving me against the wall again, and dips his tongue into my mouth. I can taste myself on his lips, and my body instantly begs for round two.

His hard length presses into me through his pants, and I curl my fingers around it. He moans, throwing his head back.

“Come,” I purr, leading him down the hallway to what I assume is the bedroom, still holding onto his pulsing cock. “Time for something a little more respectable.”

“Missionary with the lights off?” he groans, dutifully following me.

“Me riding you properly,” I snort, letting the giggles come out in full force. “In bed, like a lady.”

It feels so good, so safe, to be with him again. That’s something I’ve never been able to achieve with anyone else—not that I dated much after Enzo.

Any casual hookups I had over the last couple of years were fraught with anxiety and feelings of discomfort, but not with Enzo.

With him, I can completely be my stupid, silly self.

He falls onto the bed, jostling himself out of his pants, and beckons me with one finger, winking like a sleazy car salesman.

“Cheesy,” I remind him, climbing onto the bed to join him. “I thought you’d have grown out of this by now.”

“You do something to me, baby,” he whispers into my neck, nipping the delicate skin there. “Be a good girl now and sit that beautiful pussy on my face, will you?”

And just like that, he goes from cheesy and goofy to melt-your-guts sexy.

“I’ll do you one better,” I murmur, licking my lips and sliding the length of him into my waiting mouth.

I wake not with a start, but with a low moan. My hips are sore, my thighs burn, and for a second, I have no idea where I am.

When I hear Enzo’s soft snores beside me, I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering everything that happened last night.

Fuck. It was so good, but probably so bad for me and my stupid, tender heart.

Even though we hashed everything out last night, I need to play it cool. I can’t have him ripped out of my life after I’ve placed all my chips on him again—it’ll destroy me.

Turmoil swirls around my mind, and I’m trapped in his bed, wondering if I should stay or go.

On one hand, this is everything I’ve been dreaming of since he disappeared. On the other? We’re different people now, with bigger responsibilities, more liabilities, and a child who needs constant protection from the world she’s growing up in.

I make up my mind and carefully slip out of bed.

Glancing around the bedroom, I don’t see my clothes anywhere, but quickly remember how Enzo stripped me in the hallway last night. I steal one last glimpse of his peaceful sleeping face and make my way out of the bedroom.

Tiptoeing down the hallway, I spot my clothes scattered around and blush at the memory. My blush is quickly replaced by horror when a flash of red catches my attention.

There, right where Enzo pressed me up against the wall last night, is a coat of fresh red spray paint. I watch a single drip slowly slide down the wall and onto the shiny marble tiles.

I’m always watching, Enzo.

I scream—the type of blood-curdling scream you hear in horror movies. Enzo flies out of the bedroom and down the hall, sliding to a stop beside me.

We stand together, completely nude, staring at the large red letters.

“What the fuck…”

“They were here, Enzo,” I whisper, trying not to vomit. The nausea rises inside me, but I force it back down. “Watching us.”

My phone pings from somewhere in my pile of clothes, and I crouch down to find it. Desperately, I rifle through my pockets and finally pull it out—another message from a blocked number.

You too, Valentina.