Page 64 of Irreplaceable

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Iwanted to laugh at Enzo’s confidence, but I couldn’t. I was speechless. And I was starting to believe he meant what he said. Even so, I was scared.

Scared to let myself fall.

Scared to let myself rely on someone other than myself.

“I should change,” I finally said, my skin prickling with awareness. My tank top was still down around my stomach, and I was getting cold. “And shower.” Though Enzo had certainly done a good job of licking me clean.

“Would you like some company?” he asked with a wicked grin.

My core quivered with need. Damn him for being so irresistible. And so good with his tongue.

I rolled my eyes. “I can take care of myself.”

He narrowed his eyes, but then they darkened with lust. “Mm. I’d like to see that.”

Of course he’d turned it into something sexual. It was flattering, but I wondered how many women he’d been with during our time apart. He said he wasn’t a player, but he was a freaking Italian soccer god.

And I’d seen the way women talked about him online. The comments on some of the photos were…graphic. He probably got propositioned all the time. Another reason why I should keep my distance. I knew my limits, and sharing wasn’t part of them.

“Goodnight, Enzo,” I called.

“What about dinner?” he asked.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“I’ve got it covered,” he said, glancing at his phone. “Go enjoy your shower.”

I arched an eyebrow, but then he shooed me toward the bedroom. “Vai. Vai.”

“Okay. Geez.”

I went to take a shower, spending extra time shaving even though I told myself nothing would come of it. I absolutely was not going to have sex with Enzo. It didn’t matter that he’d been so nice lately. The flowers, the camera, the text messages, the…thing in the kitchen.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feel of the warm water running over my skin. I still couldn’t believe I’d let him do that. I wanted to blame it on my hormones—on the crazy sex dreams I kept having in which Enzo was the star—but I knew that wasn’t true.

It all came down to one moment. The moment when he’d kissed my stomach. He’d talked to the baby. His words and the gentle tone in which he said them reverberated in my mind. Hello, baby. I’m your daddy, and I can’t wait to meet you.

And I’d melted.

His muscular, tattooed arms juxtaposed against the loving way he touched my stomach. The scent of his shampoo in those dark waves. His presence.

Unable to resist, I reached between my legs and started rubbing my clit. I was so freaking horny, but I’d meant what I said—I could take care of myself. With one hand pinching my nipple, I used the other to bring myself to the edge, all the while imagining Enzo’s hands and mouth. His filthy words and delicious body.

And then my orgasm barreled down on me, making me convulse. I started laughing, giddy from the high. I couldn’t believe I’d just done that with him in the other room.

I rinsed off and towel-dried, standing in front of my closet as I debated what to wear. Loungewear? Something sexy? A dress?

What are you even doing? I asked myself.

My stomach growled, so I hastily grabbed a maxi dress that was both comfortable and sexy. I threw it on, adding some lip gloss before heading back out to the kitchen to join him.

I frowned when I saw another man standing in Enzo’s place, my body tensing as if preparing for a fight. “Who are you?”

And how can I take you down without hurting the baby?

“My name is Nico,” the man said, his English heavily accented with Italian. He held out a note, and I took it from his outstretched hand. I quickly scoured the contents.

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