Page 45 of Kiss Away Your Pain (Wounded Hearts 2)

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Enzo

I need to kiss her again, balls-aching need. And, Jesus, what a weight to carry. Her dad basically didn’t want her because she wasn’t a boy? What the fuck is that? While I have compassion for her, and I’d never admit this to her, I’m also pissed at him. I can’t believe all she’s been through. She is one strong woman.

I want to see her again, soon. And we don’t have anything set up. I’m not one to chase a woman. I don’t know what it is about her. Her heart, her essence, her soul. I’m addicted.

I pick up my phone and call her.

“Hi. Everything okay?” she asks.

“Yeah. Sorry. You’re not in bed already, are you?”

“Not yet. I’m going to get washed up soon. What’s going on?”

I sit on my sofa. “I realized we don’t have another date set up yet.”

She chuckles that sweet sound that makes me picture her beautiful smile that accompanies it. “You’re right we don’t. I have a client project due tomorrow, but what’re you doing tomorrow night?”

“Can’t tomorrow night.”Shit.“I’m doing a bartending favor for a friend of mine who owns Sterling’s Cognac Bar starting at six. He’s down two employees who are sick. Saturday?”

“Saturday. Six o’clock?”

“Four o’clock.” Time goes by too fast when it’s six o’clock.

“Okay. What’re we doing?”

“Decide then?”

“Okay. G’night.”

I met Sterling at a high-end yacht party I was working about five years ago. We hit it off and we’ve been friends ever since. He has an upscale clientele and his place brings in steady business. Tonight’s hoppin’ as usual, everyone dressed to the nines.

A little after 7:30, I look up and see her walking toward me in the amber glow of the room. Candi. A sleeveless, dark brown, satiny-looking dress, with a plunge that dips a few inches below her magnificent breasts, hugs her body. Through her torso, it’s a corset-type thing and the slit goes straight up to the top of her thigh. Unquenchable thirst rages.

Each delicate step toward me morphs to a thunderous quake, practically shaking the ground, knocking the wind from my lungs. Lust slashes me, fueling my hunger for her.

Pink hair flowing below her breasts, she ignores the dozens of eyes ogling her and locks her gaze on me as she saunters up to the bar. Hunger pivots to ravenous greed. I want to devour every inch of her.

Fuck me.

Sliding herself into a cognac-colored, leather bar stool, she puts her brown, satiny purse on the bar top that’s a translucent golden-yellow and brown marble, illuminated from the inside.

“Make me something I’ll like?” she asks, folding her arms on the bar and tilting her head in a subtle flirtation.

“You’ve got it.” I rumble, balls aching.

I pour a sweeter cognac I think she might like and bring it over to her, placing it on a white cocktail napkin. “Take a sip.”

Placing her lips on the rim, she tilts the glass, letting the liquid enter her mouth, eyes on mine as she does. “Mmm, it’s tasty. A little sweet, kind of fruity.”

“What’re you doing here?” Desire flashes as I rake my gaze over her.

“I sent in my project so I thought I’d come check this place out and watch you work for a little while. Is that okay? If it’s going to make you uncomfortable, I can go.”

“Looking like that?” I focus my eyes on hers and force myself not to look at her mouth-watering cleavage. “You’re not going anywhere.” I smile.

She glances down and then back up at me. Her elbows on the bar, she clasps her hands together and rests her chin on them. “Then I’ll stay.” The corners of her mouth curl up.

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