Enzo by kylie Kent

Author:kylie Kent [Kent, kylie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-10-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

I’ve never really been one to second-guess my actions. I live by the motto: What will be will be. Right now, sitting across from Kayleigh in this restaurant, surrounded by animals disguised as businessmen, all I can think is… what the fuck was I thinking bringing her here?

It’s like I’ve just fed a lamb to the wolves. The thing that’s really bothering me is the fact I don’t know why I fucking care. I want the wolves to eat her alive, or at least I thought I did.

The moment my skin touched hers when she brushed by me, I felt a shift. My whole body came alive at the contact. I had to refrain from pushing her up against the wall right there in the hallway of her dorm building and fucking her like the raging lunatic my cock seems to have become around this girl.

It’s as if I’ve never felt a pussy before. Just one touch has me on edge, itching to get inside her. To claim her. It’s a possessiveness I don’t recognize in myself and have no business feeling.

“You doing okay?” I ask when I notice Kayleigh fidgeting with the knife on the table. We’ve only just sat down and she’s nervous. Not that I blame her. I would be too if I were the only cop in a room full of people who would kill me without a second thought.

“I… There’re a lot of forks on the table,” she says.

“Have you never fine dined?” I lift a questioning brow.

“I’m a college student. Fine dining isn’t really in my budget.” The lie passes through her lips so easily it’s almost believable.

“Right, well, stick with me, babe, and you won’t have to live on ramen.” I wink at her.

Kayleigh rolls her eyes. “I happen to like ramen,” she says, glancing down at the table before adding, “There are no menus.”

“This place doesn’t have menus. I’ve already ordered for us.”

“How do you know what I want? Or if I have any food allergies?”

Shit, I didn’t consider the allergy thing.

“Do you?” I ask. “Have allergies?”

“No, but that’s not the point,” she tells me.

“Don’t worry. If you don’t like what gets put in front of you, don’t eat it. I can always take you home and make you some ramen if you’d prefer,” I offer with a shrug.

“I’m sorry. I sound like an ungrateful asshole. I’m just… not used to being in places like this,” she says, glancing around for the millionth time. I can see her eyeing up every person in the room. Calculating. Planning.

“Pretend it’s just you and me.” I reach over and grip the hand that’s still fidgeting with the knife. “I would advise you not to stab me in here, though.” I chuckle.

“Why would I need to stab you?”

“Because you look like you want to.”

“I have no desire to see you bleed,” she says.

No, she just wants to see me rot in a prison cell for the rest of my life.

“Good to know.” I remove my hand from hers.

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