Page 66 of The Enforcer

It would explain an uncomfortable amount about our lives. Why they’d ever thought they could convince me to get pregnant. Why I refused to move in with them, even though I knew they wanted that. Why blending my life with anyone else’s has always been expressly off the table.

Alfonso isn’t asking for any of that, thank God, but there’s an ease with him I hadn’t thought was possible. A tension, as well. He holds me against his side as we walk, waiting silently for my directions but not asking for anything I don’t want to give.

I don’t want to end up like Zahra and Shae — emotionally committed to these random white men — but I have enjoyed so much of my time with Alfonso. I’m not sure how to feel about this, but there’s no reason to pretend it’s not true. Actually, there’s no reason to pretend as if he and I have a future. Whatever the fuck is happening right now is some alternate universe of my life. It doesn’t have to mean anything unless I want it to, and I don’t.

What I want is to fuck him, and I decide to just focus on that and forget everything else.

Alfonso looks calm, but his eyes keep darting my way. His nervous, adorable attention touches me. It’s not Kevin and Tyrone’s cute blerdiness, but I won’t ever be able to replace them. However, I do have to learn how to let them go.

And as Mina said, the best way to get over a man, or two, is to get under another one, at least. She always has great life advice.

There are romantic alcoves all around the garden, with small benches tucked neatly inside the foliage. They give a sense of privacy, but even if they didn’t, I would be drawn to them because what I like most is the patches of silky darkness under the canopy. The way Alfonso’s big hand flexes down to my hip when he thinks we can’t be seen, the way he tells me how desperate he is for whatever I’ll do next with his body instead of his words.

I don’t know how long I want this kind of responsibility, but tonight, I take it on. I deserve it, and he wants to give it to me so badly.

I think the only being on planet Earth who’s really shocked that I push Alfonso onto one of those benches is a stray cat that darts across the path when we intrude on its little home.

“I’m sorry,” I call softly after it.

Alfonso is much less sympathetic. He pulls me onto his lap and palms my ass, settling me right on top of his already growing erection. “It’ll be alright,” he whispers against my jaw. “Don’t let it distract you from your plans.”

“You think I had plans?”

“Have,” he says. “And yes. I bet you’ve thought of things I can’t even imagine.”

I turn my head and run my mouth along his jaw. “I don’t know,” I say, “you might surprise me.”

He shakes his head. “I’m an ass,” he says.

“I don’t like the way you talk about yourself,” I tell him, confused and annoyed.

He sighs and gives me the softest smile. “I work,” he clarifies. “Even my mother has to admit that I’m good at that. You tell me what to do and how to do it, and you can consider it done. Unless it’s pain,” he adds, letting me feel his smile on my skin. “I can manage that on my own.”

Not for nothing, but I can’t believe how happy he sounds now that he’s realized this thing about himself and that I helped him get there.

“So you want me to do all the heavy lifting?” I ask playfully.

And I know he knows that’s a metaphor, but I also know that he’s realized by now that being picked up by a man who can do it safely might turn me on just a little bit. And then he lifts me, only so he can shove his hand underneath my sarong and sit my pussy down on his open palm.

I cover his mouth with mine because he’s been grunting at me for two days, and I want to taste it, so I do. I grind my wet pussy harder onto his hand for good measure.

Alfonso

I have spent a lot of my life feeling as if I didn’t belong. Too big. Too tall. Too brutal. Too rough. That’s why I prefer to follow orders; they make me feel as if I belong somewhere. Some part of me matters and is useful, even if it’s only my fists.

But Zoe’s body makes me feel as if I’m useful for something besides hitting and breaking. I can be careful. I know how to be gentle when I want to be, and I want to be all those things and more for Zoe.

She grabs onto my face and kisses me like she’s been wanting to do this all through dinner, which is exactly what I wanted. Her tongue strokes mine forcefully. I want to tell her that she can be a little rougher with me, as I have with other women before, but I don’t have to; she already knows. I’ve never relaxed with anyone the way I do at that realization.

I let myself focus on her pleasure. My fingers glide through her soft wet lips and bump against her hard clit. I tease her opening, circling it, tapping it, pushing my finger inside just enough to make her shiver on top of me, and then I retreat.

She smiles and licks deep into my mouth as I begin to tease her again, with two fingers this time.

I touch her until she soaks my fingers, and I can feel her excitement running down my digits and into the palm of my hand, a wet spot forming on my pants. I caress her perfect cunt until her hole is clenching around me, trying to pull me inside. Until she can’t stop shivering or moaning into my mouth. Until she pulls away from me and demands, “Fuck me with your fingers already.”

“Finally,” I groan and then sink those fingers as deep inside her as they will go. It’s still not deep enough.

I hold onto Zoe’s waist with my right hand, and together, we guide her hips into a tight circle without losing any contact between my hand and her sex. I refuse to not touch her.

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