Page 33 of Damaged & Deadly

Enzo’s lying on his bed, his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out in front of him, reading a book.

“Do you have any clothes from when you were slumming it, pretending to be from my part of town?” I ask, smirking at him.

He raises one eyebrow as he closes the book and sets it on his bedside table, getting to his feet. “Sure.” Moving to his closet, he rifles through his clothes until he pulls out a pair of dark denim jeans, a black t-shirt, a brown jacket, and matching shoes. “These work?”

I run my eyes over them, smiling. “I think so.”

Taking them from his outstretched hands, I run my fingers over the soft fabric, similar to my own new clothes, before peeking at the labels. “Of course,” I scoff. “Designer. I knew your clothes were too good looking.”

Enzo just looks at me for a moment before raising an incredulous eyebrow. “Seriously? Is that why you were so distrusting of me? My clothes?”

“Well, that and the fact that you couldn’t drink cheap whiskey.”

“The shit at that bar tasted like piss.”

I bark out a laugh. “Yeah, in comparison to your fancy aged scotch, sure.”

His gaze drops over my outfit, taking in the black crop top and high-waisted booty shorts I’m wearing with my thigh-high leather heels and heavy makeup, before his eyes flare. His tongue runs along his lower lip, clearly liking what he sees, and he reaches out, tugging me against his hard body. “When do I get a date with you?”

I smile coyly. “You wanna go on a date with me?”

“Baby girl, I’ve wanted to go on a date with you for years now.”

“Is that so?” I trail my finger enticingly over his chest. “Maybe you should try asking me then.”

He smirks. “Sawyer Jones, will you go out with me?”

I tilt my head to one side while I pretend to think about his request. “Hmm, I’m not sure,” I tease. “I might need some convincing.”

Desire flares in his eyes as he grabs my hips, grinding me against his growing erection while he leans in to bite my neck before soothing the sting with a lick of his tongue. “I can be very persuasive, and I’m very determined. I don’t give up easily.”

“So you’re saying I should just give in now and agree to a date?”

“Not at all.” He rocks against me, driving his cock into my stomach. “I want you to be one hundred percent sure.” Another rock of his hips. “No doubts.” Heat spirals in my core as he grinds against my pelvis. “I’m looking forward to convincing you.” He bites down on my earlobe, and I groan as I rub myself shamelessly against him.

“Now, go have fun on your date.” He spins me around, and I’m too dazed to do anything more than stammer as he walks me to the door.

“No fair,” I grumble as he closes the door. Trying to regain control of my body, I carry the clothes to Dante’s room, dropping them on the bed. “Wear these.”

His gaze lingers on me, taking in my flushed cheeks before dropping to the clothes. His lip curls in disgust. “Now, Dante,” I bark, slowly losing the battle with my hormones and seriously considering staying here and repeating our three-way from the other night.

He quirks a brow but thankfully doesn’t say anything as he gathers the clothes and begins to change, and I move to the bathroom, running some cold water over my wrists and neck to try and cool myself down. Flirting with Enzo should not have me so hot and bothered. I take a minute to fix my straightened hair and touch up my red lipstick before heading back into the bedroom. I stop in my tracks, my eyes running over Dante in his new clothes. A grin pulls at my lips. He’s had to loop a belt through the jeans, and the jacket and the top are more loose fitting on him than on Enzo’s broader frame, but even with that, he still looks hot.

“You look good.”

He frowns, glancing down at himself, apparently unimpressed with what he sees. “I beg to differ,” he grumbles, making me laugh.

His gaze snaps to mine, studying me like I’m some weird specimen he can’t understand, as the air between us grows heavy. “Umm, are you ready to go?” I ask, breaking the moment.

We head downstairs, and when we reach the foyer, I grab my helmet and the one I asked Enzo to buy for Dante. The way his eyes had danced when I’d mentioned that we’d take the bike tonight, I could tell he thought I was joking.

“What the fuck is that for?” Dante grunts when I try to hand him the helmet.

“The bike.”

“I’m not riding on that thing. We’ll take the car.”

“No. I’m in charge tonight, and I’m telling you, we’re taking the bike.”

---