He chuckled, but it wasn't his usual sound of amusement where I was concerned. It was the dark, foreboding laugh he only used when the beasty was ready to come out and play.
I poked the bear. If I was lucky, he might poke me back.
"Are you intentionally goading me into fucking you, Baby Girl?" he asked as his house came into view. He drove straight for the garage, only glancing at me from the side of his eye once.
"It isn't nice to get blood all over the place," I said, keeping my tone matter-of-fact despite the tingle of excitement that he might see through my games. "Is it some kind of caveman thing? Smearing your enemy's blood all over your car?"
"Be careful, Carina. The caveman thing would be smearing his blood all over you. I'm dying to see his blood on your skin and know that I put it there after annihilating my competition."
"He isn't your competition if I don't want him," I said as he pulled into the garage. "Doesn't that take something away from the fantasy?"
Enzo laughed, clicking the button to close the garage door behind us. The robotic sex voice came on to greet us as the security system beeped in warning. He seemed unconcerned with the potential of the alarm going off as the overhead lights lit the luxury garage from above while he turned to me. "I can't decide if I want to fuck your smart mouth or make you ride me on the Harley. Any preferences?"
Smirking at him, I glanced over at the bike and wondered just how that would work. "I mean, the bike is right there," I murmured, my voice turning breathy as my pussy clenched around nothing. Never in my wildest fantasies had I ever imagined having sex on a motorcycle, and I'd had some great wet dreams in my life.
"Bike it is," Enzo confirmed, shoving open the driver's side door of the Range Rover. He disabled the alarm quickly as I followed out the other side, teetering on my heels as he moved to the bike. He sat on it like it was a throne, and he was the god who commanded my world. He raised a challenging brow at me. "As sexy as you are in that skirt, I want you in nothing but those heels, Baby Girl," he murmured.
Biting my lip and looking at him, I studied him while I unzipped my jacket slowly. Enzo was a mess of contradictions, perfectly displayed by the image of him sitting on his Harley in his tailored suit. His haircut was military professional, not a strand touching his ears or the collar of his suit even though the top had more length for me to grip onto. The blood on his hands was all criminal, a figurative symbol of the lives he'd taken in the name of his country and for the Bellandis.
Good. Honorable, but rough around the edges and mercenary when it came down to business time.
The corset hugged my chest, pressing my boobs up into high peaks as the fabric shimmered. Untying the laces on the corset, I loosened it and watched as Enzo's eyes narrowed in on the slim expanse of skin between my breasts as the two sides parted and they slipped back into their natural place. Unlacing it was a slow process, but I tried to keep my eyes trained on his for the entirety of it. If we'd had music, I might have been just drunk enough to dance as I stripped. Instead, my head and hands moved in slow, sensual movements until I slid my arms back to let it slip off my shoulders and fall to the garage floor.
The air felt cool against my skin, the lack of heating in the space pebbling my nipples as Enzo studied them with rapt fixation.
Fingers sliding around to my back, I tugged down the zipper on my skirt. Too tight to just fall free from my body, I wiggled side to side so I could shimmy it down over my hips. When it fell to the floor finally, I stepped out of it, twirling in a circle and flipping my hair with a sarcastic smile on my face. "Does that work for you?" I teased.
He grinned back at me, nodding and crooking a finger for me to approach him. Bloody hands rounded my wrists, guiding my hands to his fly so I could unzip him. I appreciated the sentiment, because while I might be willing to shove aside my issues for long enough to tolerate his hands on my body, I didn't want Patrick's blood transferred inside me with Enzo's dick.
Fingers reaching into his suit to pull him free, I stroked him once and leaned over. Turning my eyes up to his, I smiled at him before my hair fell into my face. "Who said you should have to choose?"
With my ass in the air, I gave in to the overwhelming need to take him in my mouth. Enzo was always so in charge when we had sex, I'd never had the opportunity, and I needed to remedy it. He groaned, gathering my hair in his hand as I licked the tip and stared up at him. Tongue sliding down the side of his shaft, I teased him by exploring every inch of the hard, steely length of him. The fingers in my hair tightened, pulling as a reminder that while he might let me play for a little while, Enzo would eventually take back control of my body.
To him, it was his to toy with and use, to twist into a mess and offer relief from the needy thing he turned me into.
Stretching my lips around the crown, I slid my mouth down and enveloped him while holding his eyes. Hazel burned as he stared down at me, guiding my head so I drew back up and he slid free. "Don't play games with me, Carina," he warned. "It will not end well for you."
Grinning and stroking him with my hand, I held him tight and with a deep breath moved to draw him back inside. Working to relax my throat, I let him press me down until the hair at the base of his cock tickled my nose and his cock clogged my throat. "Fucking hell," he groaned, watching as my eyes watered with the need to breathe. When his hand eased pressure, I drew back to suck in deep breaths of oxygen. Smiling at him when his other hand reached over to touch my ass where everything was displayed, he drew back a hand and slapped it against my cheek sharply.
I shook my head, drawing him back inside and sliding up and down on his cock as quickly as I could manage in the position. Sucking harshly with every withdrawal, I wanted to watch him come undone.
I wanted to know that I'd done that to him.
My hand cupped his balls as I worked him in tandem with my mouth and my hand, wet sounds echoing through the cavernous garage. I didn't stop, working for every groan until my jaw ached with the difficulty of stretching around his size.
"Enough," he groaned, but his hips thrust up into my mouth like his body had lost all control. I thought for a moment he would spill down my throat, but he eventually tugged me off his cock.
Hands grasped me around the waist, turning me to face him and straddle the bike. "Lean back and touch yourself," he ordered. "I want to see how wet sucking my cock made you, Carina." I laid out carefully, my back resting on top of the fuel tank and arching with the curve of it. Reaching a hand between my legs, I propped myself up on one hand behind me so I could reach. Enzo's eyes tracked the movement, watching as two fingers touched my clit and my legs twitched from the shock of contact.
Slipping down to my entrance, I slid a finger inside myself, loving the way his attention held firm. A bomb could go off in the house, and I wasn't sure Enzo would notice. Such was the intensity of his focus on me. "Fuck, Baby Girl. You're soaked."
"How could I not be when I'm with you?" I teased, slipping my hips closer to him. I reached between us, taking him in hand and guiding him to my entrance. A roll of my hips and he pushed inside. I rolled them over him, working to take him deeper as my body acclimated to being impaled on him. "Lorenzo," I whimpered.
"This is how I want you to give me my lap dances," he said, a seductive smile on his face. So stunningly beautiful with his angular features and classic good looks, it was a wonder Enzo didn't want to spend the rest of his nights buried in a buffet of women.
I might not have believed he loved me a few days prior, but the way he studied me as I leaned all the way back on the bike again and rolled my hips to take him in and out in slow grinds left little doubt in my mind.
Enzo was mine just as much as I was his. Something about it comforted me. Like my life aligned with his and everything clicked into place in that moment. His hands touched my stomach, trailing up to cup my breasts. The friction between us left little trails of red flakes over my skin that Enzo eyed with lust on his face. Finally gripping my hips, he slammed me down o
n his cock so he rammed to the end of me and drew a gasp from my lips. Driven to the edge by the sight of his rival's blood on my skin, he pummeled into me, guiding my hips through the motions he wanted. Tossing my head back to hang between the handlebars, I let him take what he needed.
Let him give me what I wanted with harsh strokes of himself inside me.
When I screamed out my orgasm and shattered around him, he followed soon after. Filling me with his heat, he held me still. Rooted on him. Filled with him as I laid there panting.
Drunk. Sated. Tired.
He chuckled, helping lift me off the bike and setting me on my feet. The blood on both our skin demanded a shower, even though all I wanted to do was crawl into bed.
Even if it would be alone.
Weight covered my back, pressing me into the mattress. Difficult to breathe beneath the heaviness of it, I gasped as I came awake. Memories of the attack in my apartment assaulted me, bringing my panic to the surface.
Only the smell of Enzo calmed me and prevented me from fighting on instinct. The memory of him tucking me in after our shower was vague, as I'd been half asleep. I'd asked him to stay until I dozed off, wanting to feel a little less alone in the night. "Enzo?" I asked, getting my hands underneath me and pushing up gently.
His arm slid under mine, grabbing the front of my throat and squeezing so hard that I choked on the feeling of the nook between his thumb and pointer finger as it pressed into my jugular. "Enzo," I wheezed, trying to push back against him.
He didn't respond to me, kneeing my legs apart so he could get better leverage and insert one knee between them. His bare thigh rubbed against me from behind, an invasion of the worst kind despite knowing who he was.
Because it wasn't really Enzo touching me in that moment, but the killer who lived in his dreams and haunted his waking hours.
"Enzo! Wake up!" I said as loud as I could, my voice muffled by the pressure on my throat. He pulled me back up tighter, his breath hitting my ear and sounding pained even in his sleep. "Fuck," I groaned. With all the strength I had, I forced my weight back into him. Getting up to my knees, I spun. Catching him in the face with my elbow, I sucked in deep gasps of air as his hand left my throat entirely.
I bolted off the bed, going for the door to the bedroom, but the sound of Enzo's voice stopped me. "Sadie," he mumbled, his voice filled with confusion. He turned on the lamp next to the bed, looking me over and examining my heaving chest. "Fuck!" he snapped, burying his hands in his hair and tugging at the strands. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," I said, knowing I'd be fine by morning. His hand had cut off my breath, but it hadn't been hard enough to bruise or hurt me long-term. He nodded at me, striding past me to go for the door and presumably to his own bed.
"I'm so fucking sorry. I can't believe I fell asleep. I won't let it happen again." His somber voice broke something in me. Knowing all that pain and guilt came from something that wasn't his fault, and that I wasn't really hurt.
"It's fine. I'm fine. Come back to bed with me," I said. Even if I didn't go back to sleep, I knew that him going to sleep in the other room would be a far worse option for me. Like not getting back on a horse immediately after falling off, it would fester and taint our future chances of sleeping together.
"Don't," he grunted, sidestepping me and hurrying down the hall without looking back. With a sigh, I went back to my empty bed.
Cradling his pillow to my chest, I fought off my desire to go after him. Pushing him wouldn't do any good.
I'd wait until another day for that.
24
Sadie
Rebel's prancing at my side echoed the joy I felt as we jumped out of Enzo's SUV. Even though it had only been a few days, my girl looked good. Her ribs were less pronounced, her fur looking so much healthier with a wet nose and an eternal smile on her face. Enzo came up beside me, watching Rebel stay right next to me as we made our way up to the commercial building. Real estate in the Loop wasn't cheap. It was the opposite, in fact, but the location would offer us an entirely new clientele.
If becoming close with the Bellandi family taught me anything, it was that even businessmen needed to let loose all that pent up frustration physically. Scar and Ryker regularly sparred when they needed the outlet, and Scar was no stranger to the Underground.
Seeing him there had answered all the questions I might have had about where his nickname came from. His suit hid his body and the scars that covered it flawlessly, but in the primal pit of the cage, he let it all hang out to enjoy the opportunity to beat the shit out of someone.
He needed to get laid.
A man stood in front of the building, leaning against the metal with his arms crossed over his chest. “David,” Enzo said, guiding me over and shaking the man’s hand.
“Enzo. This must be Miss Hicks,” he said, holding out a hand for me. I glanced behind him at the building, whistling. It looked far beyond my budget. “The empty space is on the ground floor around the back of the lobby,” David explained, guiding us through the doors.
He bypassed the front desk, navigating his way through the crowd of people who went for the elevators at the side of the space.
Overly excited about the prospect of opening up a second location and what my father's agreement to something like that might mean about his trust in me, I didn't let Enzo's shake of his head bother me. His eyes darted all over the lobby, noticing everything so he could complain about it down the line.
David walked around the side of the desk as Rebel trotted at my side, and Enzo glared. Only a glass panel separated us from the gym Dad and I would soon own. Shoving the key into the lock and turning it eagerly, David stepped into the space. The bright smile he turned my way contained all the excitement I’d expressed in our various text messages about what I wanted. When he’d told me he found a space in this location, I’d about died.
“It's in the budget?” I asked, walking the outer walls of the space and glancing around.
“Slightly above, but nothing that can’t be negotiated,” David said as I turned a bright smile his way.
It might not have been everything I loved about our original location, but it would serve a purpose. Instead of a mix of warehouse architecture and old charm, everything was polished chrome and modern lines. Still, I could picture where the rings would go and where we'd line up the weights and other equipment. It would need to be smaller than the original given the limitations of finding space in the Loop, but I didn't doubt the location would flourish.
"Sadie," Enzo said, interrupting my musing.
"Hmm?" I hummed, spinning around in the empty space.
"It's a no. There are way too many security risks here. That door might as well not be there with the glass. Those windows are floor to ceiling. Drive-by shootings are a genuine possibility with a full-blown war brewing, and there's literally no place to hide in here if that happens. You'd have a roomful of dead customers, not to mention you'd probably be killed too. It doesn't work for your life as a Bellandi," he said. His tone was soft, the remnants of his guilt from the night before clinging to him throughout the day. I tried not to let it bother me, because I knew I'd feel the same if I'd unintentionally hurt him, too.
"I'm not a Bellandi," I murmured back.
He raised an eyebrow at me, sighing as he stepped into my space. His hand came down on Rebel's head, touching her gently so that she took it for the cue it was and settled in to sit down like the lazy dog she was. "Do you think a Bellandi man tells his woman he loves her without intending for it to go in a certain direction, Baby Girl?" he asked, touching my arm gently as I stilled.
"You're not a Bellandi either," I said, changing the tone of the conversation. Or at least attempting to.
"I'm a Bellandi man, no matter what my last name is. A made man. I'm not sure you understood what I meant when I told you I loved you the other night. So I’ll break it down for you. I'm a Bellandi man. You're a Bellandi woman, and we'll make that official sooner than you'd like
in typical Bellandi fashion, I'm sure."
"Even if that were true," I paused, giving him a pointed look that communicated just how not on board with marriage I was just yet. "I need this location. The Loop is perfect for the expansion, and I will not let you decide for me. Do you have any idea how long I had to work to convince my dad that the second location was a good idea and that the timing is perfect? Years, Enzo. I've worked for this for years, and I will not let you take it away from me."
David grimaced with wide eyes, stepping away to the other side of the room to give us a semblance of privacy.
Smart man.
Enzo sighed, but his eyes warmed as he watched me. That spark of independence that he seemed to love so much, the challenge in my face as I stared him down, only made him more determined to win. He liked a challenge, but he didn't like to lose either. "We'll make the second location happen. Just work with me on the location itself. We'll find you something you love that is safe and in a prime spot. I think we can compromise in that way. A building we own outright would be best, so we can make whatever security accommodations we need."
"How are my dad and I supposed to afford a building in the Loop?"
"I didn't say you had to own it, but you have a family member who owns half of Chicago. It shouldn't be a hardship to find something you can lease from Bellandi Enterprises."
I sighed, hating the thought of taking anything from Matteo. But the steely determination in Enzo's face convinced me it would be stupid to argue the point. "Okay." Enzo turned to David, barking out instructions for a property that was for sale rather than rent. As long as Dad and I paid a lease, then I supposed there wasn't anything wrong with it, really.
So why did I feel like I'd made a deal with the devil?
Rebel bumped my hand with each tap against my thigh as we slowly made our way up the drive to my parents’ house. The door loomed, ominous and goldenrod against the light grey siding. Mom's love of color showed in every accent of the house. If she'd had her way, the house itself would be purple with a yellow door and shutters.
Shielded Wrongs: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 4) Page 24
