Let Me Love You (20)
I let go of his hair, searching for his gaze, but he had his eyes down, hidden from me. “And what?” My nipples poked through the fabric as they went hard, and he shifted the robe from my shoulders and pushed it back so it fell to the floor.
“Now all I can think about is making you come, but this time while you sit on my face,” he said in a soft tone, almost as if he’d lost whatever interior battle he’d been fighting and was giving in.
His eyes closed, and that harsh line of his lips told a different story. He was still resisting. It was a warning to me not to get my hopes up. His hands turned to fists and swooped back alongside me, going to the counter once again to trap me.
He let go of a deep breath and finally looked at me. “Maria, I—” He dropped his words when the bell rang, and his gaze snapped toward the foyer. “Who in the hell would be at your door this early?”
My phone was on silent in the other room. My Apple Watch charging by the bed. If someone had called while I was in the kitchen with my sexy chef, I’d have missed it.
Our “almost a moment” was effectively disrupted, and Enzo went to the door.
I hurried after him, and my body went cold when he swung it open, seeing Thomas there.
My ex had on one of his expensive Tom Ford suits, which was tailored to fit his tall and lean frame. The man had always taken care of himself. Worked out four times a week. Meal prepped. And styled his light-brown hair in just a way to give him a magazine-cover-ready look. He kept his beard trimmed and always smelled nice. He was classically handsome and a little too perfect. He’d always made sure I knew that I wasn’t during our marriage.
I self-consciously flung my arms over my chest when I remembered what I was wearing, worried Thomas would see through the flimsy material, and he lost his right to see me when he stuck his tongue between another woman’s legs.
“I knew it.” Those three words ripped from somewhere deep in Thomas’s chest. Words he’d been saving, ready to throw at me. “That’s why she wanted the divorce. You’re fucking my wife.”
I didn’t make it two steps before Thomas snapped out a punch, but Enzo snatched his hand before contact was made, and he simply held Thomas’s fist in the air like it were a fly he’d caught. “Ex-wife,” Enzo seethed. “And the only reason I’m not putting you on your ass right now is because your daughter is asleep in the other room.”
I touched Enzo’s back, hoping to calm him before his control actually did snap. “What are you doing here?”
Thomas had to look around Enzo to put eyes on me. He jerked his hand away and answered, “I’ve been calling to let you know I was on my way to get Chiara, but it looks like you were busy.”
“What do you mean you’re here for Chiara?” Noticing Thomas’s eyes laser-focused on my breasts, I quickly returned my arms over my chest.
And when Enzo turned to the side and peered at me, his brows slanted in anger, clearly not wanting Thomas to see me, either.
“My mom had a heart attack, and she wants to see her granddaughter,” Thomas finally remarked.
“Your robe,” Enzo gruffly stated, ignoring Thomas’s words.
I wasn’t one to obey orders, but I didn’t want any blood spilled on my floors, and I had the distinct feeling Enzo might actually lose his mind if Thomas continued to admire my body. And why in the world was he checking me out now? Desire had been absent from his gaze long before our marriage had ended.
“Is your mother okay?” I finally asked, shaking away my thoughts, and then I motioned for him to follow me. I needed a robe, so it would seem.
Enzo shot his muscular arm out, stopping Thomas. “Give her a moment to cover up,” he nearly snarled, lifting his chin as if saying, Don’t think about arguing.
Thomas scowled, apparently in no mood to cower to the intimidating man today like he’d done in the past. Not that I cared, but he’d grown a pair since we’d split. “My mom will be okay,” he finally answered, eyes back on me. “She’s being discharged from the ER, but I’m taking off work to visit, and I’m bringing Chiara with me.”
My arms fell weakly to my sides at the idea of this man taking my daughter away on a trip without me. Enzo shot me daggers, then hissed something in Italian, and before I knew it, he hurried past me and returned within seconds with my robe in hand. Bossy, bossy.
“My parents live an hour away. It’s not like I’m taking her out of the country. But part of the divorce arrangement is that I get to go on two trips with her a year to see my family. And, well, it’s happening now.” Thomas’s angry stare bounced between Enzo and me as if daring me to challenge him on this or else.
“I need time. I can’t just . . .” I slipped on the robe and tied the belt, and Enzo seemed to breathe again.
“It’s her grandmother. I know you never liked my mom, but this isn’t about you, is it?” Thomas snapped.
“Your mom hates me. Hated us together,” I reminded him. “God, the number of times she complained I wasn’t good enough. Too curvy. Too—”
“Looks like the divorce helped you drop a few pounds,” Thomas noted, his eyes moving over my body yet again, probably to piss off Enzo. Such a bad idea. “Though it seems you kept the curves where they matter.”
Enzo had Thomas against the wall within a second, a forearm to his windpipe. “Go ahead,” Enzo challenged in an eerily low voice, “say that again.”