Authors: April Emerson
He’s sitting beside her bed, her wrinkled hand in his, singing, and she closes her tired eyes.
“Why do stars, fall down from the sky? Every time you walk by. Just like me, they long to be close to you.”
She falls asleep, and Enzo looks, silent and pensive, out the window at the night sky.
“Just like me, they long to be close to you . . .”
Chapter Seventeen
Working at the bar is easy. I wait tables, take orders, answer questions about the wine, and serve. I make good tips, but this job isn’t about the money. What’s not easy is the effort I have to make to fight my attraction to Enzo and ignore how hell-bent Natalie is on flirting with him.
I have the early shift with Natalie today, in spite of the fact that one of us could tend bar on such a slow day. Days like this, when the bar is almost empty, are harder because I have more time to think. More time to lament my predicament and berate myself. More time to daydream about the life I covet. More time to dream of Enzo.
I glance out the window and see him walking toward the bar, beautiful, vibrant, and in sharp contrast to the dullness that settles in his absence.
He smiles at the sky, and Icarus gallops to his side.
I watch as Enzo races him, running, stopping, and starting.
Icarus is loyal and completely enamored by him. He jumps up on Enzo’s chest, trying to lick his face.
Enzo generously pets him.
As I watch them play, a truth that should’ve been obvious reveals itself to me—Enzo just wants to be loved.
He clings to those closest to him because they give him what he was never able to get from his mother—love. She passed away before she could give him that gift, and it’s left a gaping hole in him. Perhaps it’s the loss of my own mother that makes this part of him so clear to me now.
I daydream about how I would fill this hole for him. I’m certain I could meet that need. I could fill that hole, give him that gift, and erase that ache.
If only I were free
.
When he enters the bar, I make myself look busy, not wanting to draw attention to the pink heat I feel flushing my cheeks. Enzo has been restrained and kind to me since I started working here, and it’s unfair for me to invoke a relationship when there cannot be one.
My back is to him as he walks past, but I feel his hand brush along my body as he passes by. For a moment, I think I must be mistaken, but when I glance over my shoulder, I catch him looking.
He winks.
Now I’m
sure
I’m blushing.
Enzo just touched my ass.
He walks past the bar and waves to Natalie, not lingering to talk, and then heads downstairs to his office.
I want to follow him. I want to go down there, lock the door, take off all of his clothes, and kiss him forever. Instead, I take the customer’s order, give it to Natalie, and serve.
Natalie has been sweet to me since I started. Maybe she’s happy to have some of the burden taken off of her. I don’t know. It makes it hard to hate her. In fact, there are moments when I actually like her.
“Carina, can you watch the bar for a minute? I want to go downstairs and say hi to Lorenzo.”
Those moments are fleeting.
“Sure. No problem.” I sigh as I look around the empty bar and pass the time by wiping down the tables and re-stocking some wine. I try not to think about her in his office. Alone with him.
Natalie emerges from the basement fairly quick and grabs her purse. “Lorenzo asked me to do him an important favor. I need to drive out to the French market two towns over. There’s a cheese tasting, and he wants me to get some choices for pairings. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Do you think you can handle things here?” she asks as if I’m incapable.
I may be new, but I’m not an idiot
.
I look around the bar and at the one customer seated in the corner. “Yeah. I got it.”
I’m happy to see her go and even happier when the lone customer tells me he wants his check.
Sitting on a stool in the now empty bar, I stare at the door to the basement and tap my foot. My heart and my body ache for him, for just a minute alone with him.
As if answering my silent prayer, Enzo comes through the door, his gaze locked on mine, and he walks straight toward me, straddling the barstool beside me. His expression is serious.
“Listen, Cari, if you can’t find some way to make yourself useful here, I’m going to have to let you go.”
My blood turns to ice for a second . . . and then he smiles. I laugh and smack his arm. “You scared me. Jerk.”
He laughs too and places his hand on my knee. “I sent Natalie out for the day. Since it’s slow, I thought it might be nice for us to, you know, hang out. Talk a little bit.”
His touch is so welcome, and I place my hand over his, enjoying the warmth of his rough skin.
“Let’s go down to my office.”
His office.
I want nothing more than to be alone with him, but this feels risky
.
“What if someone comes in?”
“I have cameras. I can see if someone comes or goes,” he says with complete confidence.
“Okay.”
I follow him down the stairs.
He holds the door for me, and I sit on the couch inside his office. He sits beside me.
I smile. “This makes me happy, being with you like this.”
He closes his eyes and opens them again. “Have you been happy? I’ve been worried about you since we’ve been back. I’ve been thinking you must feel lonely.”
He’s right, I do, but not for the reasons he might think.
“I’m sure you must miss your mother. It’s a special kind of loneliness, knowing you’ll never see her again. I get it. I just want you to know that.”
I fix my gaze on my knees. “I do miss her, and I do feel lonely. But I think my loneliness is from missing
you
.” My admission settles in the air and then I feel him.
He lifts my chin with his fingertips and runs his thumb along my cheek. “Do you miss this?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
I do. I’ve missed his touch.
He slides his hand to the back of my neck and into my hair, and I feel tiny prickling tingles ripple across my skin.
“Do you miss this?”
“Yes.”
He moves closer, and my heart responds to his nearness by feeling as though it’s going to beat out of my chest. His face is so close to mine we’re breathing the same air.
I feel the warmth of his every exhale radiating against my skin, and I close my eyes as I touch his muscular chest. His heart is pounding like mine, and I tilt my head and look deep into his eyes. I lick my lips and kiss him.
He takes my bottom lip between his and his hand stiffens behind my head, pulling me closer to him.
I take his other hand and place it on my breast. “Do you miss this?”
“Yes.” His answer is little more than a whisper. He kisses me with passion, guiding and controlling the depth of our kiss with gentle tugs of his hand threaded in my hair.
He tastes so sweet.
I wrap my arms around his neck and let myself fall into the feelings that dance through my heart, mind, and body. I spread my legs and wrap them around his waist, pulling him over me, and we stop kissing just long enough to look into one another’s eyes.
My heart may be flawed, but I want to give it to him. I want to tell him I love him, and I want to hear him say it back.
I open my mouth, the words on the tip of my tongue, but fear closes my throat. I gasp for a breath of air, and I take his hand and move it down between my legs instead. I rub his fingers over my clothing. Underneath it, I’m wet for him. “Did you miss this?”
His answer is a moan this time. “Yes, I fucking did.”
I smile at his obvious need and let him slide my shirt up to my shoulders.
He slips my breasts out of my bra cups, kissing them where they lie, pert and erect and ready for his lips. He unbuttons my jeans and slips his fingers between the fabric and my skin. He teases my tender, swollen lips and then plunges two fingers inside me.
I arch my back and he sucks my nipple before nuzzling up to my neck. I pull his shirt over his head and gaze at his sweet, haunting face and the words etched into his skin.
He pumps his hand inside me and watches my face. He kisses me and pulls away, always watching to see if he’s making me feel pleasure.
He moves his hand when I begin to need it there most, only to replace it with the part of him I thought I’d never have again. He rubs against me where I am wet and delicate. “Did you miss this?” he asks.
“Yes, I fucking did,” I answer.
He smiles, but it isn’t sweet. A devil is rising up inside him. He grips my waist, dragging my body up the couch so my head rests on the arm, and then he buries his face between my legs. The only sounds are my breath and the soft smacking of his lips.
He’s good. Very good
.
My ears begin to burn, and I watch him as he cranes his neck, forcing his tongue inside me and over me and back again. He replaces his tongue with his fingers, and fire ripples through me.
I smile up at the ceiling. I almost pray. I almost ask God to make my fiancé disappear so that I can feel Enzo’s touch. Only his. For the rest of forever.
I’m ripped out of my sick, evil prayer by the feel of Enzo’s cock against my skin as he turns me over so I’m on my knees.
He removes my remaining clothing, and once I’m naked, I begin to worry someone will catch us.
I look for the security monitors Enzo mentioned, but I don’t see them. My worry is cast away when he grips my hips and slides his cock inside me.
He goes in deep, and I feel his warm hands run up my back. He grabs my shoulders and pulls me up, and I arch my back into his chest. He snakes his hands around, each palm covering one of my breasts, and he begins to kiss my shoulder as he pushes his hips against my backside. “You feel so good to me.”
I move my body to match his rhythm.
Our panting breaths become moans and grunts as we move against each other faster and with greater passion.
“I wish I was the only one who could have you this way. Forever.” Words fall from my mouth, motivated by the blooming ecstasy that has begun to overtake me.
He gets rough as his hands leave my breasts and find my hair and shoulders once more. He pulls me against him. Hard. “I want it to always be you, Cari.”
Again and again.
He groans and moves faster.
I feel as if I’m going to fall, as though I’m standing at the edge of a cliff about to jump. My face gets hot. Hotter. I let myself feel it. I ride the wave of my pounding and rolling orgasm.
So good
.
“Do you think about me when you’re with him? Do you think of me when you make love?”
“I haven’t been with him since you, Enzo. I haven’t let him—”
“Shit.”
He comes, and I fall down flat on my stomach, satisfied and exhausted by riotous passion. I roll over and he kisses me, sliding his tongue over mine—deep and wet and hot.
After our high dissipates, Enzo dresses and hands me my clothes. Then he sits beside me as I slide on my panties and bra. He watches me dress then kisses me.
“You’re going to break my heart, aren’t you?”
I have no answer.
There’s a loud beeping sound, and Enzo jumps up and flies out of the office. “That’s the front door,” he shouts over his shoulder. He takes the stairs two at a time to meet whoever entered.
I hop on one foot, struggling to get my pants on, and yank my shirt over my head.
My hair is all over the place, and I try to smooth it while I listen. I hear Enzo talking to someone and close my eyes, hoping with all I have that it’s not my fiancé.
It can’t be him. He’ll see me, and he’ll know. He’ll try to kiss me, and he will taste another man. He will know
.
The door at the top of the stairs opens. “Hey, Cari? Can you grab two bottles of merlot on your way back up, please?”
“Sure!” I shout back, but my voice is high-pitched and nervous.
I grab two bottles from the cellar with shaking hands and attempt to calm myself as I walk up the stairs. My feet are heavy, as if they’re laden with molasses and covered in sand.
I open the door. Enzo is behind the bar. A couple sits on the stools before him. Tourists.
“We’re on our honeymoon,” the woman says to him.
I try to grab a steadying breath and walk toward Enzo, handing him the bottles.
He uncorks one and pours two glasses for his customers.
“How nice.”
He serves them and charms them, and no one would ever guess that he just made love to me on his office couch.
“Cari, I can finish up for the day here. Why don’t you head back to the house and get ready for dinner? I’ll see you there? Aunt Gemma is cooking tonight.”
I must look as freshly fucked as I feel. I nod and feel the blush on my face. When I get to the door, I slip on my coat and turn back to look at him.