Enzo wants to play.
It seems the only way either of us will share information is through the game. And I’m ready for redemption after the last time we played and I lost.
I’ll do anything to get answers. And I’ve already lost everything, my freedom included, and got nothing in return.
Enzo continues to dry his dripping body off with a towel, feeling free to show me every inch of him.
I don’t like being touched, but it doesn’t stop my body from aching to be stroked by him. I want to sink my claws into his sculpted abs. I want to outline the mysterious wounds marring his body. Run my tongue over his thick jawline until I taste his salty lips.
“I’ll meet you in the bedroom when you’re finished getting dressed,” I say, turning to leave. If I’m not gaping at him, I won’t be as tempted.
