Let Me Love You
: Chapter 3

The last sight I’d expected to come home to was Enzo in my bed. The light was still on, so I could make out every adorable detail of the moment. Chiara’s feet were near his face because she always twisted every which way in her sleep. Enzo’s one hand was draped over her abdomen, and his other arm was bent and behind his head. He must’ve accidentally passed out while waiting for her to fall asleep so he could carry her to the crib.

I slipped off my heels and padded in, trying not to wake either of them. Once in the bathroom with the door shut, I got rid of my clothes and jewelry and went into the walk-in closet.

I contemplated my options for nightwear. Do I go with cute PJs or sexy ones? As much as I wanted to slip into something that’d catch Enzo’s eye, I went with the safer option. A soft pink cotton nightshirt that went midthigh and read, COFFEE BEFORE TALKIE, which Natalia had given me for one of my recent birthday gifts.

After tossing my hair into a messy bun and scrubbing the makeup from my face, I quietly turned the knob, replaceing the two of them peacefully where I’d left them. Part of me wanted it to be me there instead. Get on Enzo’s other side and snuggle up next to him, have his big, strong arm over my stomach, holding me for safekeeping.

One cruel minute of watching this picture-perfect moment had my heart beating hard. I finally went to the bed and carefully lifted his heavy arm and laid his hand across his chest.

He stirred. His long, dark lashes fluttered, which had me going still. He brought his hand over the scruff on his jawline and scratched before his arm fell back to his other side.

I gave it a few more seconds to ensure he was still out, then scooped Chiara into my arms. You wore each other out, huh?

Once she was back in her crib, and thankfully, she’d remained asleep, I forced myself to do the inevitable, let Enzo know I’d returned, and he could leave us. Leave me.

I climbed onto the other side of the bed and shifted the pillows he’d set up as a barrier for Chiara, then lightly touched his arm. He jerked awake as if stunned. It was like a flash of muscle and ink flying over me, and I found myself pinned beneath his hard frame.

Enzo was breathing hard as he continued to brace himself over me. “Maria,” he murmured, shaking his head as if still rousing himself from a deep sleep. “Where’s Chiara?” His eyes widened in panic.

“In her crib.” I touched his chest, attempting to calm whatever bit of worry I’d created for him. “I was trying to wake you.”

He looked over at the old-school alarm clock on my nightstand, which was there for aesthetic only. It was twenty minutes after eleven.

“I’m surprised you slept while I was gone,” I admitted, wondering if he had any plans to move, considering my pelvic bone touched his body, and if he shifted just a bit, my nightshirt might slide up, revealing my silk panties. He’d already seen the bra. Why not the matching underwear?

“Ryan texted me. He told me you ended your dinner date early and took an Uber to their place to see Natalia. He let me know he’d drive you home afterward,” he explained, shifting his hips a bit, and I could feel the heavy weight of his cock resting on me.

I gulped, then whispered, “Of course he did.”

“I’d never sleep if I thought you were with . . .” He cut himself off. “You could’ve sent me a text, you know.” He arched a brow, as if guessing why I didn’t.

In truth, I’d been a hot mess about going on my first date since the split with Thomas, especially since it wasn’t with Enzo.

“Date not go well?”

Boring and not “heartbreaker” material, so Mom would’ve loved him. “He’s a nice guy.” Just not you. “I wasn’t interested, though. Why waste time?” I arched my back the slightest bit, dying for him to relieve the pressure between my thighs but also knowing he’d only hang me out to dry.

“How much did you drink?” His brows slanted as he studied me.

“One glass of wine at dinner. Two with Natalia.” I wasn’t close to being drunk if that was his concern. Tipsy, sure.

His eyes moved to my nightshirt, and maybe my PJs weren’t the “safe option,” because I was still braless, and my nipples had to be poking through. There was a slight snarl to his lips, and then he rolled to the side and sat on the edge of the bed, raking his hands through his hair. He snatched his hat and situated it backward on his head before standing. “I’m going to take the monitor and sleep on the couch.” He faced me, and his gaze fell to my bare legs.

“Why would you do that?” I shifted, tugging the hem of my nightshirt lower.

“You haven’t slept well lately, and I’ll wake up with her. You need to sleep.”

“You don’t need to do that.” I sat and tossed my legs to the side of the bed, nearly losing my balance as I stood. He reached for my arm and kept me upright, but now we were so close that I had to look up to replace his eyes.

“I know, but I am,” he said in a sleepy-sexy voice.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I shook my head, searching for his eyes.

“And why’s that?” His gaze narrowed slightly as he tilted his head in question.

“I can’t touch myself while you’re in the other room.” Oh. My. God. Where did my filter go around him? “It’d be, um . . .”

“Why do you do this? Play with fire expecting not to get burned?” His jaw tightened as he leaned in closer, eyeing me with that swirl of chaos and desire in his hooded eyes.

Because safe is boring. Safe didn’t get my heart beating faster, my sex clenching. But I wasn’t about to say all that.

He stepped back, giving me a few inches of breathing room, so the last thing I expected was for him to snatch the hem of my nightshirt and peel it up to my waist.

Like a deer caught in headlights, I froze, unable to move, let alone speak. “What are you doing?” I finally managed, releasing a deep breath.

He tipped his head to the side, his eyes laser-focused on my silk panties. “I’m seeing how wet you are.”

Well, I’m officially a hell of a lot wetter now. “And how can you tell only by looking?” But then I remembered my panty set had been nude, and yeah, I was soaked, which meant he could see my arousal.

“It won’t take much to get off,” he said matter-of-factly while letting go of my nightshirt. “I’ll be on the couch while you finger fuck yourself into orgasm, and then you will get a good night’s sleep after. Don’t argue with me,” he roughly added, eyes holding mine like a challenge.

“I prefer my vibrator, not my fingers, thank you very much,” I bit back, angry at both his order and the fact he was so damn frustrating that he could walk away from me like this. The man had restraint like I’d never seen in my life.

“No.” A dark expression crossed his face. “It’ll be your hand tonight.” He palmed my cheek as if he wished he was touching me somewhere else instead. Or maybe that was me?

“You can’t tell me what to do,” I reminded him, but that cocky smile cutting across his lips was evidence he knew I actually craved it.

I was twenty-nine and a mother, and most days I felt unsure what in the hell I was doing. And part of me missed having someone guide me. Make the decisions. Take some of the control so I could breathe for five minutes and stop worrying so much about . . . everything.

“You’ll do what I say, I know you will.” That unwavering confidence only turned me on more.

I had no clue why he wanted me to touch myself. What difference did it make? Well, unless he wanted me to imagine it was his hand on me, and the vibrating metal might interfere with that fantasy. “Pretty bossy for my neighbor.”

“I’m damn well more than that,” he offered in a low, steady voice.

“What you are is confusing.” I clenched my hands at my sides, searching for the strength not to “offer” myself to him, knowing he’d probably reject me, but I was failing miserably. “The only hand I want on my body tonight is yours. So, vibrator it is.”

His jaw clenched as he quietly studied me, a nearly vicious look greeting me.

“Just so you know, your restraint speaks volumes,” I admitted, shoulders falling. I turned toward the bed and startled when his hands circled my waist and he pinned me against his hard frame.

With his mouth at my ear, he murmured, “If you think for one second it’s not taking every ounce of my control not to fuck you right now, you’re insane.”

Oh God. My ass went back, pressing harder against him like an invitation to do whatever he wanted with me as long as he relieved me of the pain between my legs.

His teeth grazed my earlobe as he kept me locked in place.

“So do it,” I challenged, calling his bluff.

The growl at my ear and his warm hand lifting my shirt wasn’t what I’d expected, but it was what I needed. The second he slid a finger over my panties along the seam of my sex, I moaned, and my knees buckled. I winded my arm back to hook his neck, trying to draw him even closer.

He feathered his fingers over my panties one more time before he finally shoved his hand down them and touched my smooth sex.

He squeezed my breast with his other hand while roughly pushing two fingers inside me. “Is that what you want? You want to see me lose control?” He was angry, but he wasn’t stopping. He wasn’t backing down. “God, you’re so wet.” His hand went still when he asked, “You wanted to make me jealous tonight, didn’t you?” His breath fanned over the sensitive part of my ear, causing chills to coat my body.

“No,” I whispered as he moved his thumb over the sensitive part of my sex.

“Don’t lie to me.”

I kept hold of the back of his neck so my legs wouldn’t collapse as I shared, “Yes.” I peeled my eyes open to look down at his inked arm holding me against him, and he resumed touching me.

“Come for me. Now, Maria,” he demanded. “I can’t break another rule. I can’t fuck you while you’ve been drinking, and I’m two seconds away from bending you over and showing you how much restraint I clearly don’t have when it comes to you.”

At his words, I rode the heel of his palm as he pumped his fingers in and out of me, and I moved my ass in circles, grinding against his cock as he squeezed my tit nearly to the point of pain.

“That’s it,” he said into my ear. “Be a good girl and come for me.” He nuzzled my neck and lightly nipped my earlobe again.

At his command, my body shuddered, my stomach muscles tightened, and a wave of euphoria tore through me. I bent forward, my arm falling from his neck as I surrendered to the last bit of ecstasy.

I was tender and sensitive as he continued touching me after I’d orgasmed, as if he couldn’t stop himself and never wanted to.

When he decided to let me go, I turned to face him, and his dark eyes locked on to mine. He dragged his two fingers beneath his nose as his tongue slipped between his lips. Smelling me. Tasting me.

“Now go to bed,” he demanded a moment later, and I lowered my focus to the bulge in his gray sweats. “No,” he snapped out. “You drank, and I’ve already lost my damn mind tonight.” He closed the space between us, a fierce look in his eyes. A request not to challenge him this time.

For whatever reason, I did what he told me and got into bed beneath the silvery-gray comforter.

He set a hand by me and bent forward, brushing away the runaway strands that’d escaped my messy bun; then he surprised me by tenderly kissing my forehead.

When he lifted his head, his brown eyes met mine, and instead of kissing me like I hoped, he whispered, “We’ll talk about what happened over breakfast,” and then he stood and left, taking the monitor with him as promised.

He shot me one last look, hit the light switch, then gently closed the door.

How could I possibly fall asleep after that? Tonight had gone from a failed date to one of the most erotic moments of my life. And the part that crushed me, that stole the chance of a restful sleep . . . was knowing this stubborn man would never let it happen again.