“Oh, I don’t know. Sounds downright convenient to me,” Rafa said, clinking his glass with Dante’s.
“Seven isn’t dating any of you,” Enzo snapped, picking up his wine glass and taking a large swig before leaning back to glower at his family. “He’s…busy. Law school is too high stakes for that shit.”
Was he…sulking?
“Stop teasing your brother,” Mama said, pointing her finger around the table at her children.
“He’s a grown man, Ma,” Dante chimed in. “It’s not our fault he’s a giant man-baby. You coddled him too much. That’s why he’s sitting over there pouting like a petulant child because he thinks you want to take away his new favorite toy.”
Was Seven the toy in question? He glanced at Enzo, then regretted it. The scowl on his face sent heat zipping through his lower body. Or maybe it was the wine. He shouldn’t have worn something this heavy; he was too hot. Maybe he shouldn’t haveworn a sweater. There was a nip in the air, but the alcohol had closed the gap really quickly.
“Excuse me,” he said suddenly, lurching to his feet and startling half the table. “I’m just gonna, uh, use the…” He pointed vaguely towards the house.
He couldn’t escape without moving his chair, but when he tried, it caught on the terrazzo tile, almost catapulting Seven directly into Enzo’s lap. He shot a hand out to steady Seven, but immediately pulled it back when Seven glowered at him. He could feel the heat of embarrassment crawling up his neck as Enzo stood and pulled the chair back so Seven could make his escape.
Once he was back inside the house, he just kept walking. He had no idea where the bathroom was…or anything else for that matter. He was tempted to walk right out the front door. But he couldn’t. Even if he did manage to make it back home, his mother would murder him for abandoning her. Though, she seemed to be having a fine old time selling him to the Contis.
He weaved his way farther into the house until he realized he was well and truly lost. He leaned against the wall, body overheated and thoughts softening at the edges. He had to get out of there. He jolted from the wall, hurrying back the way he came. He rounded the corner and walked right into a wall. His hands shot out, landing on muscle.
Not a wall. Enzo.
He stumbled back, gasping when Enzo caught him around the waist and hauled him in, pressing their bodies together.
It took longer than it should have for Seven to realize he wasn’t embracing him in a romantic way, but to keep him from falling on his ass. He huffed, slapping at Enzo’s chest weakly. When Enzo didn’t move, Seven risked a glance up at him and immediately regretted it. It was just like that night.
Seven tried to will himself to push away, but he was rooted to the spot, staring up at Enzo’s chocolate brown eyes, his heart in his throat, a swarm of bees in his belly. He held his breath, letting out a small gasp when Enzo’s gaze dropped to his lips.
“Fuck,” Enzo muttered a moment before Seven found himself swept into an alcove, a wooden door at his back. He closed the distance between them, one thick thigh between Seven’s legs, his head dipping to rasp, “You’re driving me crazy.”
Seven’s heartbeat thumped like a bass drum against his ribs, making him feel like he couldn’t breathe. His world had shrunk down to Enzo, Enzo, Enzo. His eyelids fluttered, his fingers digging into the older man’s powerful biceps as his head swam. Was it the wine or Enzo’s cologne?
Seven wanted to bury his face against his chest, wanted Enzo to crush him in his arms and carry him to bed like he’d done that night. He wanted to feel his weight pinning him to the mattress. He wanted to feel his lips. He’d never felt so dizzy and overwhelmed just from someone’s presence.
“What are you doing?” Seven mumbled, head thudding against the wall just so he could continue to look at him.
That proved to be a mistake. All it did was bring their mouths even closer together. Seven’s chest burned, aching to close the distance between them.
“I came to check on you,” Enzo answered, voice wrapping around him like a weighted blanket.
“What do you care?” Seven asked, closing his eyes against the heat and the hunger in Enzo’s eyes.
Seven’s breath hitched as Enzo’s nose brushed his throat.
“Fuck, I miss the way you smell,” he muttered, almost like he didn’t realize he was speaking out loud. Seven stood there, shaking, afraid to breathe and shatter whatever fragile ceasefire was currently happening. Enzo inhaled deeply, a low rumbleleaving his chest. “I can’t get enough of you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Seven blamed the red wine for loosening his tongue enough for him to whisper, “I miss yours, too.”
“Yeah?” Enzo sounded so hopeful.
What the fuck were they doing? They barely knew each other. They’d spent one night together. Now, they were wrapped around each other, clinging like they’d been apart for years.
When his friends inevitably asked what happened tonight, Seven would blame it on the wine. But the truth was, pressed against the wall, Enzo’s thigh between his, his arms holding Seven tight…he didn’t want him to go. He didn’t want him to stop. Seven missed his lips. His touch. The way his head went quiet when Enzo took control.
Maybe that was why it felt so natural to crash their lips together. Unlike their first kiss, there was nothing hesitant about it. Seven clutched at Enzo’s shirt as he thrust his tongue past Seven’s lips.
Enzo tasted like tart red wine, and Seven moaned as he sucked it off his tongue. Enzo’s hands abandoned his waist to hold his face, moving him as he liked as he plundered his mouth like Seven belonged to him. Enzo flexed his thigh right against Seven’s now half-hard cock, then swallowed the high-pitched whimper that escaped.
“Let me take you home,” Enzo whispered into his mouth.
