Enzo’s face became a little black rain cloud as he grumped, “The last time we were meeting a cartel, you spent the whole time making fuck-me eyes at Thomas Mulvaney.”
Seven bit back a smile. “Thomas Mulvaney is very married.” When Enzo glowered at him, face pouty, Seven couldn’t help but grin, shaking his head. “Okay, fine. I was only doing that to make you jealous. We were still in our weird not-friends-but-not-more-than-friends phase. I didn’t know what I was going to do with you.”
Enzo pushed him up against the door of the conference room, hand circling his throat as he pressed his forearm to the door over Seven’s head. He didn’t squeeze. No, he went for something far more sadistic, his thumb sweeping gently over his pulse point.
“Do you know how crazy that made me?” Enzo practically growled.
“Pretend I don’t know…and tell me,” Seven said, a little breathless.
“I fantasized about killing him,” Enzo admitted. “And about tying you to the bed and punishing you until you were too sore to walk.”
“Punish me how, Daddy?” Seven taunted. “Were you gonna spank me? ‘Cause you keep threatening, but you never do.”
Enzo’s hand did squeeze then, not enough to cut off his air supply but enough to let Seven know he could. “I’m holding back because I don’t want you to think that I only want you as a sub. Besides, we haven’t even discussed what you like and what you don’t. But if you need a demonstration, I’ll be happy to provide one.”
Seven could feel his chest heaving, his lips suddenly bone dry. His tongue darted out to wet them. Enzo watched the movement carefully. Seven cleared his throat. “Our moms are on the other side of this door…remember?”
It was clear by the way Enzo straightened that he had not only gotten lost in the moment, but seemed to have forgotten they were at work. “Right. Right. To be continued.”
Enzo once more took a deep breath and let it out, making Seven laugh. “Why are you so nervous? My mother loves you. Maybe more than me.”
Enzo looked at him like he was crazy. “You know as well as I do that our moms will be scrutinizing our every move, looking for any sign that their scheming has worked. And once that happens, they’re going to feel emboldened.”
“Emboldened?” Seven asked, amused.
“You laugh, but you don’t understand Italian mothers,” Enzo said, sounding a little afraid.
“What are they going to do? Once we’re married, there’s nothing more they can do. My mother is fresh out of kids to torment, but your mom has so many to choose from. She’ll simply turn her attention to your siblings. We’ll be home free,” Seven said breezily.
Enzo gave him a flat look. “Until they start pushing for grandchildren.”
Seven choked on his own spit. “Grandchildren?”
Before Seven could truly process his words, Enzo pushed open the conference room door. “Good morning, ladies. You look beautiful as always.”
Grandchildren?
Seven entered the conference room behind him, woodenly leaning down to press a kiss to both his mother’s and Francesca’s cheeks. When Enzo took a seat opposite the two women, Seven followed like his fiancé had a string tied to his ass. He could feel their mothers scrutinizing him, focusing on his clothing before looking at each other with a knowing look.
“You look nice today,” Francesca said innocently. “New sweater?”
Seven gave a stilted nod. “Jericho and Freckles couldn’t get to our apartment to get my clothes, so Enzo called a friend,” he mumbled.
“Oh,” his mother said. “How nice.”
“I told him I’d take him shopping tonight to get him whatever he needs. This is just what my friend could scrounge up in his size at the moment,” Enzo explained.
“That’s very generous of you,” Neith said, looking her son up and down with a knowing smile.
Francesca nodded. “Take him to Phillip. I have an open account there.”
Enzo shook his head, like he found their meddling both endearing and frustrating. “I can take care of my own—” He cut himself off abruptly, paling under his tan.
“Own?” Francesca prompted, sitting forward almost eagerly.
“Client’s son,” Enzo finished lamely.
“Smooth,” Seven whispered under his breath.
