His Dirty Bargain

by Fiona Murphy

  “Breathe, Chloe. That’s it, angel,” Enzo croons in my ear. His arms come under me, holding me tight against him. A few more deep breaths allow me to surface safe in his arms as his lips graze over my ear, along my neck, gentle without urgency. Gradually I realize he’s still hard, buried inside me. I’m embarrassed at preventing him from coming to take care of me, again. God, he’s so hot, burning into me, every thick inch branding me as his. I revel in this feeling, in this moment.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper as from deep inside I clutch him tight.

  “Don’t—ah, fuck.” His arms tighten around me as he begins moving, slowly at first, only it isn’t long before he’s surging inside me over and over and holy fuck I’m so close all over again, it’s so close, just beyond my reach. Enzo growls as he grinds against that perfect spot, slamming into me, and I hit my climax only seconds before him. As he comes inside me, I shiver. I love the feeling, blush at how much it turns me on, at the way my body milks Enzo for more. A growl vibrates up my back. “If you kill me before we get married, you get nothing.”

  I laugh. “I can’t help it. It feels so good.”

  He starts to move but I moan, clutching him tight. “No, don’t pull out yet. I thought you were taking on the challenge?”

  “I’m too damn heavy for you.” Rolling to his side, he’s careful to not pull out. “Okay?”

  “Hmm, yes, thank you.”

  “Hmm...” is Enzo’s only response. I feel him go slack behind me. A glance back at him, he’s out like a light. Huh, his grip on me is still tight even in sleep. Looking down at his hands around my middle, one hand is cupping my stomach. Already, even in sleep, he’s got his hands on the prize. I run a finger over the back of one large hand; interesting how strong and large his hands are, yet he’s so gentle. The hand moves, catching mine.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t usually crash, it’s rude.” Carefully, he moves me up onto the pillows, then untucks the covers from under me. “Be right back.”

  Bemused, I watch as he cleans himself up, then wets another washcloth and comes back to me. In a replay of this morning, he cleans me between my legs. His touch is gentle, thorough, and he ends with a kiss on my mound. He tosses the washcloth into the hamper in the bathroom. I expect him to come to bed, only he picks up his suit and my clothes and my bag and goes into a walk-in closet. When he comes out he’s still not done: he finds my phone and charger and plugs it into the outlet behind the bedside table.

  “You can’t go to bed with it messy, can you?” I ask as he gets back into bed. This time he turns out the lights before pulling me into his arms.

  “No, it was instilled in me since I was a kid. My time in the Army engraved it in stone.”

  “I should warn you now. I’m kind of sloppy,” I whisper as I run my hand over his chest.

  “We’ll have a housekeeper, she won’t let it get bad. Why don’t you want to breastfeed?”

  I have to reach over him for my phone on the bedside table. It takes only a few seconds to find the picture. I stick it in his face. “What the fuck?”

  “Exactly, do you see the blood? That is what breastfeeding does to your nipples. Not only do they swell to five times their normal size then darken to three times their normal color, they bleed.” I toss my phone back on the bedside table, then try and lie back down, but I don’t get far as Enzo catches me then rolls me under him. I don’t complain, I love it but his attention is on my breasts, one large hand cupping one of them. Even though it’s dark in the room, he runs a seeking thumb over my nipple.

  “They bleed like just—for no reason?”

  “Not for no reason, because a small human without teeth is gumming them while trying to get their breakfast, morning snack, lunch, afternoon snack, early evening snack, dinner, late snack then midnight snack on. There are hundreds of millions of babies who are not breastfed who do fine without it. I don’t think it’s too much to ask not to have painful bleeding nipples when the baby can get what they need another way.”

  Enzo nods. “I mean, you hear over and over breast is best but fuck, that’s a huge ask after nine months of already losing full ownership of your body. Matteo was early and never took to breastfeeding, Che said he felt bad for liking that it wasn’t all Alicia feeding the baby. He thinks he was able to better bond with Matteo, same with Sophia. For some reason Alicia could only go a few weeks; it made life easier with Che able to get up in the middle of the night and Alicia not practically attached to the baby.”

  “There’s that too. I know it’s weird and I’m sure it might change, but I don’t want to be one of those moms who has their kid attached to their hip. I mean I totally want to cuddle my kids at bedtime and at times throughout the day, but I don’t think it’s healthy the way some moms lately can’t go a few hours without their kid. Does that sound bad?”

  “No, it doesn’t. The whole helicopter parenting is bad for the kid and the parent, the kid doesn’t become self-soothing or self-reliant. I think my dad managed a pretty good balance of being there, but also making sure we could handle everything from getting ourselves to bed to making dinner without him. We never felt like we couldn’t go to him; we knew he was there for us.” He goes quiet, then rolls onto his back. This time he doesn’t pull me into his arms. Tough; I lay my head on his chest and sigh when his arm goes around me.

  “Are you mad I want to keep working after my maternity leave is up?”

  “No, I’m going to be home. It doesn’t make sense for both of us to be home.”

  Shock has me sitting up. “You’re going to stop working?”

  He tugs me back into his arms. “Not stop, but go down from fourteen hours a day to only four or five hours and work from home. We’ll need a nanny for when I do need to be on a conference call or meet with clients, but I want to be hands-on like my father was.”

  I kind of can’t believe him, a multibillionaire becoming a stay-at-home dad. Enzo, a swirling mass of energy, is going to give up the cut and thrust of the business world for Gymboree. “Seriously?”

  His chuckle floats around us. “Seriously. It must have been some time since you spent a few hours with a toddler. They are exhausting, in the best way. I’m not giving up work entirely, I’m simply not going to have another person raise my child, then wonder why she doesn’t want anything to do with me as a teenager other than wanting money from me.”

  Ah, I’m gooey inside again. “She? You want a girl?”

  “If you’re up for six then I want at least five girls, and I’m perfectly content for all of them to be girls. We have more than enough male Sabatinis.”

  “How un-Italian of you, Enzo Sabatini.” The surprises don’t stop coming with him.

  “I don’t need sons to prove I’m a man.” A big hand goes down to envelop my ass. “Besides, I’m guessing you want all girls.”

  “I kind of did, but I’ve seen pictures of Matteo and if we have boys who look like him, I’m happy with a few boys too.”

  “Yeah, Matteo is a cute kid, but you should see Sophia she’s gorgeous.” The idea of him cuddling a dark-haired little girl has me smiling as I bury a yawn into his chest. “Sleep, angel, I’m up at five thirty. I’ll try not to wake you up. Go over to Bethany and Dante’s for breakfast in the morning. Their housekeeper Claudine will make you breakfast and the best damn espresso. Call Everett fifteen minutes before you’re ready to go. He’ll take you to work and for tomorrow he’ll run you around the city.”

  “Okay.” I yawn. “I’ll do the florist on my own. Thank you again for coming today.”

  He presses a kiss into the top of my head. “I didn’t think you would want me to come, or care if I was there.”

  I run a hand over his chest. “I did because I was completely out of my depth. I wasn’t one of those girls who dreamed of her wedding day; hell, I don’t even go to weddings. At least you’ve done it before.”

  “I had no idea what was going on until the day I showed up. If you need something from me, speak up. I’m not a mind re
ader. We’re already both strong personalities; add into that not effectively communicating and we’ll crash hard.”

  Nodding, I kiss his chest. “Russell said the same thing. I will. I promise.”

  A large hand runs up my back then around to my stomach. “You said now wasn’t a good time? What did you mean?”

  “My period should start in three or four days. The best time would have been a week ago.”

  “Hmm...doesn’t mean we can’t keep trying.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  18

  Chloe

  My second alarm is blaring on my cell phone. It declares the time, shit, I’m going to be late. As I stretch I become aware of aches in places I didn’t know existed. Rolling over, I pull Enzo’s pillow to me, inhaling deep. He’s always right, no cuffs are necessary, I don’t want to leave his bed at all. If I could live here I would. The alarm sounds again. Damn it. Grabbing it, I turn it off and hustle into the shower.

  As I sit in the back of the car eating the breakfast sandwich Everett handed me, my phone chimes with a text.

  I hear you woke up late. Did Everett get you breakfast?

  “Everett, can you believe he’s checking up on you?”

  “Didn’t doubt him for a minute, miss.”

  “Please, please call me Chloe,” I plead for the fifth time.

  “Yes, miss.”

  Yes, it’s yummy. Thank you

  I barely hit send before he responds.

  Good. Lunch at noon in my office?

  In his office? I check his calendar; there aren’t any meetings around lunch.

  Lunch, yes. In your office, no.

  I laugh at his response.

  Do you wake up wondering how you can annoy the fuck out of me?

  He thinks he’s so funny.

  If I annoy you it’s only a happy coincidence. I don’t want to eat stuck in an office. I don’t care how nice the office is.

  I swear I can see him sigh.

  Where do you want to go for lunch? We’ll leave the office.

  I name a restaurant, he agrees. I let Everett know of the time as I get out of the car.

  Over lunch we talk about the wedding. Enzo admits he has given the mold people a large incentive to finish faster than a week. I’m not surprised in the least. In the elevator going back up to work, he hugs me close.

  “If we were in my office I would have been able to kiss you as thoroughly as I want to.”

  “Hmm.” Damn, I hadn’t even thought of that. “I’ll keep it in mind for tomorrow.”

  “Six tonight?”

  I shake my head. “If you want to leave at six I’ll be gone already, unless a client comes in.”

  A sigh. “What time?”

  Rolling my eyes. “I can compromise. I’ll do five thirty. There’s a report I can do early.”

  “Thank you.” His kiss is only a brush across my temple. Maybe his office isn’t such a bad place for lunch after all.

  He’s right on time; I’m the one stepping out of the building five minutes late. His eyes go up as I get in.

  “I forgot the time. I’ll set an alarm next time.”

  Laughing, he tells me to put my seat belt on. We’re home before I finish showing him the flowers I picked out.

  “Maybe living so close isn’t a bad thing.”

  “We won’t be here long, but it’s not a bad place to call home for a little while.”

  “You might be used to floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, but I’m not. It’s so bright and there are people across the way. Do you think they can see in?”

  “Honest answer?” An eyebrow goes up. “Because I’m really wanting to get you out on the balcony naked.”

  “You’re so dirty. I’m never even going braless from now on.” He laughs as he picks me up over his shoulder when the elevator opens. “Enzo, if you drop me I’ll never forgive you.”

  “Have I dropped you yet?”

  “No, I just want it on record.” I groan as he tosses me onto the bed. Rolling over, I sigh happily as he starts undressing. He is so fucking sexy and he’s mine, all mine.

  A long time later my stomach growls. He shifts, grabbing his phone from the bedside table. “It’s a little after seven. You up to making some dinner?”

  “Scrambled eggs, maybe. I have a warning growl then I get Hulk hangry.”

  Laughing, he pulls back the covers. “We can take care of you enough to get you by. Come on.”

  I yelp at the smack to my ass. “Ow, how rude.”

  He goes into the walk-in closet and comes back dressed in a plain white T-shirt and sweat bottoms. He tosses one of his shirts toward me. It’s huge. “Panties.”

  Shaking his head, he keeps walking. “No panties.”

  “Whatever, you’re oversexed,” I toss at him as I go into the walk-in to get panties. “When are we going to get Cetta and Pepe?”

  “They’re here already. Everett picked them up after lunch. Their litter box is in the bathroom in the hallway. He said they took off to Bethany’s side. Bethany texted me Pepe and Ginny are in love, while Cetta and Elvis have a love-hate relationship, and Mac is just happy there are cats that don’t scratch him, he loves them both.”

  I’m stunned when he sets a caprese salad in front of me. “Where did this come from?”

  “Claudine, she made sure I have everything I need to show you how to make the lasagna you love. You know, the one better than sex.”

  “Shut up, wait, you’re going to show me how to make the lasagna?”

  Shaking his head, “I’m not going to show you we’re going to make it together. After you eat that so you don’t get Hulk hangry, because the knives are sharp in this kitchen.”

  The next hour is fun, even though Enzo is as bossy in the kitchen as I’m sure he is in the boardroom. Then he hands me a glass of wine and tells me to sit down while he cleans up our mess. I’m not sure why, but I’m pretty sure the lasagna is even better than when Bethany makes it.

  We take the last of the bottle of the wine onto the balcony and try to see the stars. Enzo manages to get me onto his lap, where he shows me how to ride him. It’s not fair, though, because I’m on top but Enzo is still in control, still the one to drive me out of my mind. I also can’t wait until we do it again.

  Later that night, falling asleep in his arms, I’m beginning to think I might not be making the biggest mistake of my life.

  Three days later when my period starts in the middle of handling a purchase with a client, I swallow my disappointment, grateful I’m wearing a panty liner I put on because my body gave the clear signs even as I hoped I was wrong. An hour later when I’m able to make it to a bathroom, the sight of the blood has me sagging against the wall in sadness. Shaking my head, I try to fight the sadness with common sense. This is a good thing; me and Enzo need more time, another month or two is nothing.

  The last few days were almost too perfect for me to trust in them. Enzo was sweet, thoughtful, and incredibly patient. We left the office together a little after five, then were dating, as Enzo made sure to stress: another night at the opera, a night at the theater, last night we went to the Art Institute. I tried to tell him we didn’t need to go out every night. It wasn’t about going out, it was about learning more about each other. So tonight he has promised we’ll stay in and make dinner together again.

  I love going out with him, but I love being in our temporary home with him most, or maybe it was how we ended our nights with sex so molten hot I don’t know how we didn’t set the bed on fire. Then he actually cuddled with me as he answered the thousands of questions I asked him, from his time in the Army and his grueling stint in the Rangers to his childhood. Enzo asked questions back, and we shared a dozen different memories and favorite things. A little more time is a good thing. I can’t fight the feeling once I’m pregnant, everything will change. This is good, for the both of us.

  When I text Enzo I started my period, I hold my breath waiting for his response.

&nb
sp; I’m sad but it means we get to practice some more. Make sure you get lots of water in today so you don’t get dehydrated. Want to have dinner out?

  Okay, he can be sweet when he wants to be.

  I will. No, I want to go home and curl in a ball. The first two days are always hardest for me.

  While I’m thinking of it I pop two ibuprofen. I usually begin taking them when I start, then keep taking them until day three when my flow lessens along with the pain.

  Whatever you want. Leave early today, at three?

  I check my calendar; since I finished with my client today, I’m still clear into tomorrow.

  Yes, please. Sounds good.

  His response comes through quickly.

  See you at three.

  When I get downstairs I find Enzo waiting for me. His arms go around me. I sag into him; it never ceases to amaze me how every time he touches me, my whole world resets to peace.

  At home he urges me into the bedroom to change into something comfy. I change into leggings and a loose shirt, not bothering with a bra.

  I walk out into the living room to find the ottoman covered in a smorgasbord of goodies. There are the Twizzlers and Starbursts I love, a bag of popcorn, and my favorite sparkling flavored waters. I gasp at the sight of a small platter filled with cannoli, éclairs, cream puffs, butter cookies, lemon taralle, and two tiny fruit tarts.

  “Well, are you just going to stare at it or does something look good?” Enzo asks as he pulls me into his arms from behind. He’s down to his boxers, the way he knows I love him.

  “I can’t pick. I wondered where Taco was.” The little dog has become a fixture from the minute Enzo gets home. Cetta and Pepe, however, have fled us to become a part of the fur clan who stay near Bethany.

  He chuckles. “I put up a baby gate, he hates it. He’ll live for a few nights. Let’s start with some water.” Enzo settles me on his lap then covers us with a soft throw. Leaning over, he picks out a strawberry-flavored water.