65
Steam still clung to his skin as he padded barefoot across the penthouse, hair damp from the shower. The platinum collar sat where he’d left it–on the nightstand, gleaming in the low lamplight. Waiting.
The elevator chimed, and then Lola was there, shoulders slumped under the weight of fourteen hours in the chair, bag slipping from her arm. Exhaustion painted her features, but the second her eyes found him, she lit up.
“Enzo.”
Christ, the way she said his name. Like a homecoming.
He pulled her into his arms, breathing her in. Soap, ink, and faint coffee clinging to her skin. She sagged against him like she’d been holding herself upright just for this moment.
“Long day?” he murmured into her hair.
Her hum vibrated against his chest. “Three big pieces. My back’s on fire. My brain’s soup. I think I might actually die.”
He kissed her temple, voice soft but steady. “Not tonight, amore. Tonight you rest.”
He sent her to the shower with a gentle swat to her hip and made his way to the kitchen. The fridge offered options, but she didn’t need anything heavy. Bread, turkey, cheese. Simple. A sandwich she could manage half–asleep. He grabbed a glass of water, too.
By the time she padded out of the steam, hair damp, Enzo had the bed turned down and the tray waiting. He guided her in, tucked her against the pillows, set the plate and glass within reach.
Her eyes softened, blurry with sleep. “You made me food.”
“Of course I did,” he said, settling at the foot of the bed. His big hands wrapped her feet, thumbs pressing circles into the sore arches. “You think I’d let my queen starve after a day like that?”
She melted, sigh spilling out, head tipping back against the headboard. “Dangerous, Enzo. You’re spoiling me.”
“Good,” he said simply, working his thumbs higher up her calves. “I missed you. Every second in LA, I wanted to be here instead. With you.”
Her smile slanted, tired but true. “Tell me again tomorrow. Right now I’m too sleepy to appreciate it properly.”
She managed half the sandwich before her eyes fluttered closed. A few bites remained, plate sliding forgotten to her lap. The other half of the sandwich rested on her chest, crumbs scattering.
Enzo’s heart clenched so hard it almost hurt. Fierce, wicked Lola–the girl who’d dragged him into the fire and laughed while he burned- fast asleep with a sandwich still in hand.
“Jesus Christ, I love you,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face.
Carefully, he moved the plate, set the sandwich aside, slid the water closer. He tucked the blanket around her, lingered a moment, just
1/2
10:58 Wed, Oct 8 M…
Lola
Verify captcha to read the content
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Accidentally Yours (Merffy Kizzmet)