by DC Renee
It had been one of the best nights of my life, but I wasn’t sure how it was going to be that morning. What was I supposed to say? How would he react? He wanted to make sure I wouldn’t regret it the night before, which I didn’t, but would he? This wasn’t something I was equipped to handle. Was I supposed to do the “walk of shame” out of my own room, away from my own husband? This was all so convoluted. I debated whether to pretend to stay asleep and let him make the first move or slip out of bed. Slipping out of bed to avoid the awkwardness I was sure was coming was winning. I started to move slowly out from under him. I made it to the edge of the bed before a nagging curiosity held me back.
I had seen men naked in movies, on TV, even in books, but I had never seen a nude male in the flesh. And although I finally had firsthand knowledge of the male genitalia, we had been silhouetted in the moonlight. I’d also had other things on my mind than checking out the goods. But now, with Enzo still sleeping, I had my chance. I took it.
I lifted the covers, trying my best not to move too suddenly, and my jaw dropped. Hot damn! I couldn’t believe that thing had fit inside me … and he was soft. I swear my expression was that of a person seeing a real-life alien after not believing they existed.
“And here I thought things might be awkward,” I heard followed by a deep, throaty chuckle.
I jumped back, dropped the cover, tried unsuccessfully to cover myself with my hands, and yelped. “Oh my God, you scared me.”
“Find what you were looking for?” Enzo asked on a laugh as he turned over and put his hands behind his head. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
I blushed at least thirty different shades of red. “It’s just … well, I’ve never seen one up close. And I was a little busy last night to pay attention. I was just curious.”
“Look all you want,” he responded, his voice turning husky. “As long as I get to look at all your glorious curves in return.”
He turned toward me and the cover fell, exposing his growing erection. I didn’t know it was possible; I thought it was only something you read in books to make the plot more interesting, but I actually felt myself get wet. When his hands took hold of mine to lower them to my side, exposing my nakedness, I thought I was going to come apart. When he stared at me like I was a thirteen-year-old boy’s first nudie magazine, I felt like I was going to combust. When he brushed his hands along my sides before pulling me down for a kiss, I knew I was in trouble. And when we made love again and I still felt tingles all over, I was a goner.
I had been with Enzo for less than twenty-four hours, but he was already addicting. Where had this side of him been the entire time we were married? Oh please, let him stay like this, I silently willed the universe. And please don’t let him break my heart.
He slipped his t-shirt over my head and put on his boxers from the previous night before announcing we were going to eat breakfast together. It was more like lunchtime, but if Enzo was cooking anything, I was eating it. He made simple scrambled eggs and toast, but it tasted like heaven. I knew I was in an oblivious state of bliss, but nothing was going to tarnish it for me. Not at that moment, at least.
We sat in comfortable silence, eating beside each other. I think we were afraid that any talking would ruin the moment. When we were almost done, Enzo decided to bring out the big guns.
“I have to ask,” he finally spoke. “I don’t understand how you were a virgin. I mean, look at you.” He waved his arm up and down my body. “And you’re how old? And then what about Luke?”
I had never felt so powerful and embarrassed at the same time before. His words insinuated that I was beautiful or sexy, but I was afraid to answer with the truth. I did it anyway. “Luke’s not my boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, or anything remotely like that. He’s a really good friend who’s been there for me more times than I could count.”
“But … he and you … you were together. I saw you,” Enzo practically sputtered.
“You assumed we were together, and I let you think that way. I had Luke and Chandra’s approval to do so, though.”
“Chandra?”
“Luke’s fiancée. Or well, she will be soon. They’re in Europe now and he’s going to propose. You’ve met her a few times. She’s the one with the pixie cut.”
“But I saw you guys.”
“Yep, as friends. Nothing more. Think about what you saw. Was there ever anything that crossed any lines?”
Enzo paused to think for a few minutes before I could physically see the realization dawn on him.
“But other guys? Anything? High school? College?”
“Who’s going to willingly date a married woman, knowing there’s no chance of being together in the end? And I’m not exactly the type of girl to just go to a party and hook up with a random guy, especially not for my first time. And in high school, I didn’t really have time to date or anything, not that I had much of a chance at it for most of high school anyway, not with Nora being there.”
“I don’t get it. You’re gorgeous, Paige. We started off on the wrong foot, but I never thought you were anything but stunning.”
I could feel the very tips of my ears turning bright red at that compliment. “I never stood a chance when it came to Nora and guys … or school … or pretty much anything, actually.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, seemingly genuinely puzzled.
“In my family, Nora was the person to beat, and she could never be beaten. Everything she touched turned to gold, everything she did was perfect, and everything that came out of her mouth was interesting. You get the point. I was always walking in her shadow, trying to earn my parents’ praise, acknowledgment, just about anything, but all they could see was Nora. I was never good enough in their eyes, at least not compared to her. No matter how hard I tried at everything I did – and believe me, I tried so hard I had no life outside of working my butt off – Nora seemed to do it better. Even guys who seemed to like me would take one look at my sister and I no longer mattered. This wedding, it was-” I cut myself off before I said too much. I had the opportunity to vent to someone and I took it, consequences be damned. I had to learn to filter myself better.
“This wedding what?” Enzo paused. “Is that why you married me?” he asked as if he already knew the answer.
I lowered my head before continuing. “My dad owed your dad money, and he had no way to pay for it. I thought if I took the debt on myself, my family would finally acknowledge me for something I did that Nora couldn’t. I never in a million years thought this would be part of that debt.”
“That’s why you didn’t want to marry me.” He spoke more to himself than to me. “It all makes sense. I wondered why you’d want to marry me and then hate every minute of it.” He was still talking to himself, but I nodded in agreement.
“I hated being forced to give up my only dream. I never had one for myself because Nora did everything better. But to my husband, I’d be perfect. I’d finally be good enough for someone. Your dad took that away from me.”
“Paige, don’t you realize how amazing you are? Nora doesn’t hold a candle to you in any department. You’re determined, smart, you don’t let anyone tell you what to do, well … almost anyone,” he added with a smile. “You’re funny and feisty, and you’re incredibly beautiful. You’re damn near perfect. And Nora is none of those things.”
It was at that moment that I first experienced the urge to ever say “I love you” to someone, but I bit my tongue. I didn’t love Enzo, I couldn’t. It was too soon, and he’d never love me back. A night of sex didn’t equate to love. So I distracted us by getting up, walking over to him, and sitting in his lap.
I kissed him fiercely and whispered, “Thank you,” against his lips.
“For what?” he asked.
“For everything.”
*****
“What are your plans for today?” Enzo asked when we headed back to my room.
“Nothing really,” I answered honestly.
“Good. Then t
here are no issues with lying around in bed all day,” he announced as he pulled me to the bed. It wasn’t a question of whether it was what I wanted to do; it was a fact. I should have been upset with how he dictated things even now, but I was oddly comforted that he hadn’t completely changed overnight. It also felt wonderful that Enzo wanted to spend the day with me … given, it was in bed, and I was sure that played a role in his decision, but I wasn’t going to dwell on that. I had never felt this wanted, this desired in all my life, and I wasn’t going to let my stray thoughts kill the high I was feeling.
He pulled me into the crook of his neck and drew lazy circles on my arm after he turned on the TV in my room. We watched in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Enzo spoke.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Yeah?”
“If you have a TV in your room, and your bed seems pretty cozy.” He paused after stressing cozy while raising his eyebrows, causing a laugh that sounded an awful lot like a snort to escape my lips. He smiled and then continued, “Then why do I find you constantly asleep on the couch in the living room with the TV playing in the background?”
I sat up and looked at him. “How did you … but … wait … how do you know?” I couldn’t form the correct words, completely baffled as to how he knew.
“How did you think you got to bed every night?” Enzo asked, truly puzzled.
“What?” I gasped. “I thought I was sleep walking!” I cried out.
Enzo started laughing as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “Of all the plausible explanations, that’s what you came up with?”
“I used to sleep walk when I was a kid!” I defended.
“That makes so much more sense now,” he mused, more to himself.
“What does?”
“Well, at first, I just covered you with the blanket, afraid to touch you too much, but after a while, I couldn’t help it. I started carrying you to bed, but I wondered why I never got so much as a snide comment from you.”
“You’ve been doing that this entire time?” I asked, my tone clearly conveying how sweet I thought that was, especially since he had been worried I’d be upset that he took me to bed.
“Yep,” he responded. “But you still haven’t answered my question. Why’d you go sleep there in the first place?”
Blushing was becoming a part of me; I was doing it so often in the past twenty-four hours, I might as well have patented it. “Well,” I started, but paused, trying to tamper my embarrassment even though I hadn’t done anything to be embarrassed about. “You thought Luke and I were together, right?”
He nodded and something passed over his face that seemed like anger, but then it quickly faded and he looked relieved.
“You should have at least realized that we hadn’t been physical if nothing else,” I told him. He looked perplexed, so I continued. “The walls are pretty thin, Enzo. You would have heard us.”
He seemed to process my words before it dawned on him what I was referring to. He, at least, had the decency to look ashamed as he fought a smile.
“I got tired of hearing, ‘Oh Enzo, oh Enzo, oh God, Enzo, so good, Enzo, that’s right, Enzo, right there, Enzo, oh, oh, oh, Enzo.’” I might have gone too far with my mimicking tone, trying to sound exactly what it sounded like to me, but I was caught up at the moment. I think I even threw my head back a few times and moaned as Meg Ryan had in When Harry Met Sally …
The next thing I knew, I was on my back and Enzo was hovering above me, his face red, which had me screaming hallelujah that I wasn’t the only one who blushed to the point of looking like a tomato. My “Oh Enzo” was cut off by my squealing as Enzo proceeded to tickle me.
“That’ll teach you to mess with me.” He laughed as he continued his tickle onslaught.
So of course, I continued to moan, “Oh, Enzo … oh God, Enzo …” I was pretty sure it didn’t sound as sexy as I thought, with giggles mixed in and my voice breathy not from exertion, but from trying to keep Enzo’s fingertips away from my sides.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” I finally caved, and his hands immediately stopped working over my stomach. “After one more, oh Enzo,” I added with a smile.
We were both breathing hard, and his chest expanded and rose in sync with mine. Suddenly, I was hot and flustered … in a good way.
I stared into Enzo’s eyes, which were just above mine; they were alight, the muscle in his neck was pulsing, and I could feel the effect this little game had on him. I suddenly felt my breath turn shallow and I swallowed hard, my eyes not leaving his. If you looked up sexual tension in the dictionary, that right there would be the real-life definition. Right under it would be a warning label that read, “Caution, being in the vicinity of Enzo may lead to spontaneous combustion if said sexual tension is not taken care of immediately.” Apparently, Enzo read the warning as well because the next thing I knew, his lips were bruising mine while his body moved to cover me completely.
“Are you sore?” he asked against my lips.
“Yes, but I want you,” I whispered as I dug my hands into his hair and pushed my hips up to grind against his. I didn’t know where that confidence had come from, but I liked it. And that was all the encouragement he needed.
“We’ll go slow,” he told me as he proceeded to torture me with slow, precise movements that built to the most incredible climax I had ever experienced. My earlier mimicking tone laughed at me as I gave Enzo the real-life description of what I heard. “Oh Enzo” was no longer a club I had joined; it was an official part of my vocabulary, and I loved it.
After Enzo had rested himself half on me, his body spent like mine, I felt vibrations to my very core at his quiet laughter.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Looks like I won the bet.” His teasing smile lit up his face as he looked at me.
“What bet?”
“That you’d come to me.” He smiled wider if that was possible. I would have taken offense, thinking that was all this was about, but his tone told me he was amused not smug.
“Technically, you came to me. This is my room, after all.” I smiled back.
“Semantics.” He chuckled. “I won the bet.” He continued to laugh before turning serious. “And thank God for that.” His whispered words sent a shiver through my body. I was fast becoming addicted to Enzo, and that scared me. I wanted this, I wanted Enzo, but I didn’t think of the consequences. Enzo never said he wanted more. To him, this could have been just a great day, another conquest with some additional benefits. I wouldn’t ask because I didn’t want the answer. I had a feeling I knew what it was.
Enzo flipped over and pulled me back into the crook of his neck before turning the TV back on, and just like that, I forgot my worries and just enjoyed the rest of the day.
*****
The following week was … interesting. We spent every night together, not that it was difficult considering we lived together. We didn’t go on any dates or attempt to really get to know each other like couples did, but we did spend time together … a lot of time together … in the bedroom. It was as if someone had turned off the hate switch, dimmed the civil lights, and blasted the volume of the happy stereo. And I was making up for lost time, and what better way than with my husband. I liked my husband. It had felt weird saying that even in my head. I tried it out a few times out loud and that was even stranger. Usually, you liked your boyfriend, lusted over your fiancé, and loved your husband. We obviously skipped a few steps. I had gotten so used to hating him, or at the very least liking him in the recesses of my mind, that I couldn’t fathom liking him out loud. Let’s not forget that other little L word that kept trying to push its way out of my mouth, too. Yep, I had to keep a lid on that.
We didn’t spend all our time in the bedroom, either. We ate together, watched TV together, even talked to each other about our days. I’d be honest and say that was the closest to a relationship that I ever had even in such a short time and I’d be lying if I weren
’t completely content in my little bubble. I desperately wanted to know what Enzo thought of our time together, but I was afraid of the answer. To him, I was probably a very convenient fuck buddy. I wasn’t even upset with Enzo, and he still managed to make me cuss, even if it was in my mind.
I didn’t want to know what he did when we weren’t together during the day because I was sure I’d be crushed. So I just took what he gave and lived in my very own fantasy happily ever after, at least for that week.
We were lying in bed on Sunday evening, my eyes slowly closing when Enzo asked, “Why are we always in your room?”
“Why not?” I responded playfully.
“I want you in my bed,” he announced so authoritatively that I almost caved, stood up, and walked over to his room.
“Me and everyone else,” I mumbled as my brain started working again.
“What?”
“That bed,” I said with disdain, “has seen more action than a Schwarzenegger film.”
“Did you really just say Schwarzenegger film? What year is this? Nineteen-eighty?” He laughed, and I couldn’t help but chuckle, too.
“Okay, okay, enough laughing at me. You get the point.”
“No actually, I don’t,” he told me, but I had a feeling he really did understand where I was getting at.
“What’s the difference between this bed and yours?”
“There’s something different about having you in my bed, and I want that.”
“Well, I’m sorry Enzo, but I’m not getting in that bed.” The mood turned a little sour at that moment, and I was bound and determined not to let anything affect my moment of perfection. “But I can think of a few things we can do in this bed.” Apparently, so did Enzo.
The following day, I had left work early so I could figure out my financial aid situation for graduate school. I needed to see if I could somehow continue using the scholarship I’d had as an undergrad. Business school was only two years, but it wasn’t cheap. My job had promised me an analyst position once I finished, but my current role wasn’t going to help pay for tuition.
