Page 55 of Sexting the Don

Reaching her door, I take a moment to survey the lock. Simple, mundane, child’s play for someone like me. In seconds, I have it picked, reinforcing my point about the inadequacy of their new “safe haven.”

Pushing the door open, I step inside.

Mandy is there, surrounded by open boxes, clearly in the middle of unpacking. She whirls around as the door swings open, her expression shifting rapidly between surprise and shock.

"Enzo? What—how did you get in here?" she stammers, her eyes wide as they fix on me.

I close the door behind me, my presence filling the space. "We need to talk. About security, about making moves without warning, and about what exactly you’re doing here."

“Are you fucking serious? Did you just pick the lock to my door?”

At that, my frustration boils over.

"This place isn't safe. I got past your doorman with nothing more than a few bills. And this lock wasnothingfor me to pick. If it's that easy for me, it's open season for anyone else who wants to get to you," I assert, my voice low and tense with irritation.

Mandy bristles at my accusation, her stance defiant. "You shouldn't have done that. You can't just bribe people and force your way in. This is our home!"

"This isn’t about me wanting control. It's about security, about keeping you safe. Why can’t you see that?"

She throws back, her voice sharp, "So I'm just supposed to do whatever you say? Live wherever you tell me to? I don’t need someone to take care of me. I’ve been doing just fine on my own."

My hands clench at my sides, the urge to shake some sense into her rising. "It's not about you being incapable! It's about making smart choices. You’re not just putting yourself at risk—think about your mom."

Mandy’s fire doesn’t wane; she meets my gaze squarely. "I’m not some damsel in distress waiting for you to save me. And neither is my mother."

The intensity in her eyes gives me pause. Maybe I’m pushing too hard. My voice softens, but the undercurrent of my concern remains.

"Consider what you're risking here. I can’t just stand by and watch you put both yourself and your mom in danger."

Abruptly, I switch topics, needing to ensure all immediate threats are accounted for. "Where's your mom now?"

Mandy looks slightly thrown off by the sudden shift but answers, "She’s out with some friends from work, celebrating her pending divorce."

At that moment, my gaze unintentionally drops to her outfit—black gym shorts that show off her toned, tempting legs that I remember too well wrapped tightly around me. Her fitted white t-shirt clings to her upper body, the outline of her nipples pressing against the fabric, sending a rush of heat through my cock, making it pulse to life.

Damn, she's as alluring as she is fiery.

Catching the way I'm looking at her, Mandy arches an eyebrow.

"What’s your deal, Enzo?"

Acting on impulse, fueled by the mix of our heated argument and the burning attraction between us, I close the distance. Without another word, I pull her into a hard, demanding kiss, channeling all the tension and desire into that one act.

It's reckless but at that moment, all the arguments, all the concerns, fade into the background, overshadowed by the raw connection that always seems to pull us back to each other.

Chapter 25

Mandy

Iknow it’s the wrong thing to do, but the moment Enzo’s lips crash into mine, I’m toast.

His kiss is demanding and urgent, and every logical thought flies out the window. His hands move all over my body with a possessive urgency, squeezing my breasts through the thin fabric of my shirt. I gasp into his mouth, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.

His other hand slides between my legs, rubbing me through my shorts and panties.

Oh, Lord, the heat pooling there is making me lose my mind. I should stop this and push him away, but who am I kidding? My body is betraying me, arching into his touch, craving more of the delicious pleasure only he can give.

“You’re so beautiful, Mandy. So fucking perfect,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice low and seductive. Shivers run down my spine, making me wetter by the second. He kisses a trail down my neck, nipping at my skin, and I moan, gripping his shoulders for support.

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