Take Me Apart (Vitale Brothers Book 1)
Take Me Apart: Chapter 9

There was a strange man in my apartment.

No, scratch that. There was a strange man in my apartment who had fucked me better than I’d ever been fucked before and who was also a murderous bastard. Oh, and he was delicately picking up pieces of glass off my floor. He dampened a paper towel and went back to work as I stared at him.

What the hell is he doing here?

I drank down more of the water to wash the taste of beer and irritation out of my mouth. As the coolness slid over my tongue and washed down my throat, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Enzo finished up with the glass pieces and grabbed my mop next, giving the floor a good shine.

“What the fuck?” I muttered.

“There,” Enzo said, more to himself than to me, as he replaced my mop. His gaze flickered to me. “Now it’s your turn.”

I frowned. “My turn to what?”

Enzo walked over and stood beside my couch. “Drink the rest of your water, and come on.”

“Why?” I asked.

I swear I saw his eyelid twitch. “If you ask me one more question, I’m going to haul you over my shoulder and move you myself.”

My eyes narrowed. “I’d like to see you try that shit.”

Wordlessly, Enzo plucked the glass out of my hand and yanked me to my feet. I stood there, staring at him wide-eyed, stunned that he had that much strength. I’d witnessed it myself, but it still shocked me. Normally, I wasn’t an easy man to move, but Enzo did it without a second thought.

He braced himself, crouched, and I went up onto his shoulder as if I weighed nothing. The shock wore off as he carried me through my apartment.

“Put me down!” I snapped.

A quick, hard swat landed on my ass, and I blinked. Had he just slapped my butt? I wanted to protest, but my drunk brain wasn’t equipped to handle this. We stopped off in my bathroom, and he dropped me onto the closed lid of my toilet.

“Clothes off.” He pointed to the hamper in the corner. “Put them in there. And brush your teeth.”

I gawked at Enzo. “There is something seriously wrong with you,” I said. “Why aren’t you taking the hint to leave?”

“There was a hint to leave?” he asked.

Unlike before, when he really seemed confused by my anger, this question was filled with smart ass-ness. I had told him directly to fuck off, yet he was still here. He turned his back to me and leaned over into the tub, turning it on and adjusting the temperature. My eyes ran over his backside. At some point, he’d taken off his jacket and put it somewhere, but I had no idea when. Was I that drunk? Or staring at other things a little too hard?

“Clothes,” he repeated, a slight growl in his voice.

I wanted to tell him exactly where he could shove his demands. The beer had only made me bolder, and I felt some kind of way about him right now. Whether I wanted to fuck him or kick his ass, that was the question.

Enzo’s hands were on me so quickly my head was spinning. He yanked off my clothes, tossing them into the hamper. I shoved out a hand in protest, but he simply knocked it away. When he shoved me back and ripped off my boxers, I found my voice again.

“Hey! I know how to shower by myself,” I huffed. “Can you get out?”

Enzo looked down at me. “I can, but I don’t think I should. You’re drunk enough to slip and crack your head open on the faucet. Blood would splatter, creating a bigger mess. Based on your height and weight, there are multiple ways your fall could land you either in the hospital or the morgue.”

“Jesus,” I muttered. “That’s so violent.”

He shrugged. “Yes, but it happens.”

His eyes moved from my face to my body. I watched as they did a slow tour of me, roaming over every inch of exposed flesh. He reached out, and I winced but stayed silent as he dragged two fingers over an old, jagged scar on my stomach.

“What happened?”

I glanced away, a cold glass of water suddenly thrown over me. “Nothing,” I said, shoving him away and sitting up. “Get out so I can shower.”

“I can do a better job.”

“Out!” I snapped. “Go home already. Why are you even here?”

Enzo didn’t answer me. Instead, his lips pressed into a straight line, and he watched as I struggled to stand up. I forced myself to keep moving. Damn, Chelsea had really drunk me under the table, and she was still perfectly fine. The woman was a demon. I stepped into the shower and groaned as the first spray of warm water caressed my skin.

I glanced at the curtain before I gave in to my curiosity and peeked through the slit. Enzo had taken a seat on the toilet lid I’d just been perched on. He’s really not going anywhere, is he? What was his deal? I hadn’t seen the man in days, and now he was refusing to leave. My stomach clenched as I realized in horror that I was comforted by that fact. I liked that he was ignoring me, that he wasn’t going away.

Sighing, I snatched up the bar of soap and started getting to work as I tried not to think of why I was losing my damn mind. I was way too drunk to over-analyze myself like this and I didn’t want to run into any uncomfortable truths. I focused on getting washed up. When I stepped from the tub, Enzo had a towel waiting, draped over his lap. He was staring at his phone, and my eyes swept over it quickly.

I could use that. Maybe I can get it from him.

I brushed away the wet, icky feeling that ran down my spine from that thought and stepped forward. When I reached for the towel, Enzo stood up and wrapped it around my body instead. He ran the cloth over me, collecting up droplets of water as his breath feathered over my flesh. My cock ached, and somehow, I forgot how to breathe.

“You’re going to hyperventilate,” he informed me. “Breathe.”

I let out a big breath of air and the corner of his mouth ticked up, doing fucked up things to my insides. Enzo turned me toward the sink after he made sure the towel was tucked into place tightly and passed me my toothbrush. He swiped toothpaste on it and patted my ass.

“Brush.”

“You’re bossy,” I noted. I shoved the toothbrush into my mouth. “And -nnonying.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, not paying me a lick of attention. He just stared.

I tried to ignore him, but it was impossible not to squirm under his spectacled gaze. Heat rushed through me, and I cursed the alcohol in my system. That was the only reason I would ever be into him. Yeah, that’s it. I’m just drunk and horny. Anyone would want to fuck a man that looked like that. But I know the real him. No way I want anything to do with that.

I washed my mouth and face, and when I straightened up, he was still staring. “Why are you here?” I asked. “You haven’t answered that yet.”

“I don’t know yet.”

I opened my mouth and shut it again. Great, I was being stalked by a weirdo who happened to be part of a dangerous crime family. That wouldn’t end badly at all. I trudged past him and walked to my bedroom. As I stepped inside, Penelope shot out. He hated being confined. I walked to my dresser and snagged a pair of clean boxers, shimmying as I dragged them up my hips. I turned, and my heart almost fell out of my ass. My back slammed into the dresser. Enzo was right there, silently hovering.

“Fuck!” I snapped. “Will you go home already? You’re killing my buzz.”

Enzo reached out and touched my scar again, mapping it with his fingers. It was like he was obsessed with the thing. Just like the tattoo, I knew he wouldn’t let it go until I explained what it was. I gritted my teeth.

“Old injury,” I muttered. “Got into it with my old man one day, and he knocked me on my ass a few times. No big deal.”

“Your father the—” Enzo’s gaze met mine, and he blinked a few times. “Nevermind.”

“What were you going to say?” I pushed.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said as he reached out and held the side of my neck. “Who was the girl? She yours?”

I got whiplash from the sudden change in topics and gawked at him. “Who?”

“The girl. Brown skin, big eyes, short little dress. The one at Blu,” he said impatiently as I continued to stare. “You were all over her.” His grip tightened on my throat. “Who was she?”

My stomach did a little flip as danger bells rang in my head. Was he jealous? Already? After the hotel, I’d thought it was a one-time thing, one night of intense, chaotic pleasure before we’d go back to our separate life paths and clash in the future. But here he was, standing in my bedroom, the pressure of his hand on my neck grounding me.

“A friend,” I said finally.

“Her name?”

A shiver passed over me. No way in hell was I going to tell Enzo anything about Chelsea. The look in his eyes screamed a warning. She’d end up at the bottom of a river somewhere.

“Why?” I asked him.

“I just want to know.”

I sealed my lips. There was no way I could tell him that I knew exactly who he was, so that was never going to happen. He’d figure out that I was investigating him. And that would be a death sentence.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “Like I said, she’s a friend. Besides, she’s so gay I wouldn’t even turn her head.”

Enzo stepped forward, erasing any semblance of space between us. My body overheated, and I tried to take a step back. However, I was still forced against the dresser. Enzo’s body pressed against mine and my heart decided to speed up like it was a runaway train aimed at disaster.

His lips brushed against mine, and I moaned, unable to stop myself. I reached out and gripped his shirt, holding him against me in case he suddenly decided to change his mind and disappear. My cock throbbed as I pushed up against him, grinding against his body as his tongue drove into my mouth.

Enzo grabbed my arms and shoved me toward the bed. I fell in. The weight of his body covered mine as he dry-humped against my ass. He ripped the towel away and grunted as he rubbed up against me. For the second time in a night, I was able to watch his carefully tailored facade fall away.

But I didn’t just want to be rubbed against. Instead, I shifted my weight and tossed him off of my back. Enzo landed on the bed, and I climbed on top of him, my body screaming to feel him again. Yes, he was a crazy, dangerous stalker, but my brain completely forgot about that when he was so hot and hard underneath me.

“Clothes,” I demanded.

Enzo reached down, grasping the hem of his shirt. He pulled it over his head and tossed it aside before he gestured for me to get off. I moved swiftly, diving toward my nightstand and rooting around until I found what I was looking for. Lube and condoms in hand, I moved back over to see him trying to fold his clothes and knocked them off the bed.

He growled. “Hey.”

“You’re in my house now. Leave them on the floor if you want to fuck me.”

Enzo glanced at the mess on the floor and then back to me. His gaze wandered a second time, and I saw him struggle before he attacked me. Enzo’s mouth found mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth. I met it, tangling with him as I moaned and rocked forward, only air kissing my hot cock. It wasn’t enough.

I shoved a hand into his chest and climbed back on top of Enzo. Popping the cap of the lube, I poured a generous amount over our cocks and slid a hand around them. Enzo’s head tilted back, a swear on his lips as his gaze flickered up to the ceiling.

Panting, I laid on top of him and realized too late how intimate the position was. It wasn’t getting bent over and railed from the back. It was being face to face with a man as I stroked both of our cocks together. His gaze fell on me, and Enzo’s hand reached out. Slowly, he cupped my cheek, and a shock of panic shot through me.

I shoved away from him, my cock dripping and my heart pounding.

“Get out,” I said, my voice turning shaky. “Get the fuck out!”

Enzo stared at me. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Get out!” I snapped again. “Out!”

His stare lingered, but he must have seen something because he climbed out of my bed and yanked on his clothes. Enzo wrenched open my bedroom door, and I heard his heavy footsteps as he moved through my apartment. The front door slammed, and I tore after him, quickly throwing the locks before I pressed my forehead against the cool metal.

Fuck. What was I thinking? What is wrong with me!

I didn’t give a damn about getting his phone or trying to get any information on him tonight. What I’d done was screw up, and now my brain was revolting. I’d let Enzo into my body one time and I was this screwed up?

No, it’s more than that. It was the way he touched me. The way he looked at me. Why couldn’t I have just bent over and let him take me from behind again?

I slammed a fist into the door. “Idiot. Fucking moron, get it together!” I berated myself.

The sound of shoes shuffling away caught my ear, and I shoved my eye against the peephole. Enzo stopped and turned back to stare at my door. My heart squeezed as my hand gripped the doorknob. What is that expression on his face? I couldn’t quite figure it out. The insane part of me almost ripped the door open to go ask. Instead, I shoved myself away and stormed to my bathroom.

I had to get the smell of him off me and erase the feeling of being so close to the man I was destined to put behind bars.