Page 68 of Tailored for You

“It’s incredible. How big is this thing?”

“Big enough.” Enzo turned and opened the wall next to the windows that gave us a view of the vast Atlantic Ocean. It was a closet, not a wall, filled with clothes. For me. “This should be enough for the weekend.” He reached in and pulled out something that had a lot of strings. “Here is a bathing suit.” He put the smallest bathing suit I’d ever seen on the bed.

“The bathroom is through here.” He pushed another door that looked like a wall. I peered in, noticing the big white bathroom. “Get changed. I’ll be waiting out here for you.”

I grabbed the bathing suit, resigning myself. Whatever I looked like, it was good enough.

The bathroom was bigger than I expected. The shower took up half the room and had no door. The shower head came from the ceiling, a rainfall style that would drench rather than spray.

I made quick work of getting into the bikini, thankful it wasn’t as small as I thought.

It was well-made, covered the necessary bits, and when I turned, I found that it made my butt look good.

Great even. The stretch marks from when I was pregnant with Harper were still there, but I found the sight of them didn’t bother me or make me want to cover myself like they usually did.

Feeling comfortable and confident in my skin for the first time since before I became a mom, I gathered the sheet and left the bathroom.

Enzo was there, having changed from his suit into swim trunks with no shirt on.

“Cazzo, Dio mi sta mettendo alla prova in questo momento,” he said, hanging his head.

“Is this okay?” I looked down at myself, my finger playing with the string that tied my bikini bottom together.

“Yes. Cazzo, yes.” He walked up and gripped my hips. “Let’s go before I try to convince you not to leave this room.”

He led me out of the room and to the front of the boat where there were two beach chairs sat with towels laid out on them.

The sun was still high in the sky, giving us plenty of time to lay out and sunbathe before dinner would be ready. The waves gently lapped against the boat, rocking it. It was quiet and peaceful.

I walked around to one of the chairs. “I can’t remember the last time I laid out like this.”

“You need sunscreen,” Enzo said, holding out a bottle. I reached for it, only for him to pull it out of reach. “Turn around.”

I did. Enzo’s hands rubbed the lotion on my back, fingers slipping under my bikini strings. I needed to focus on something other than his hands all over me.

“I usually use the oil that has sunscreen in it,” I said, trying to break the silence.

“Turn,” Enzo ordered. I did, coming face to face with him. He lathered more on his hands, bringing them down to my shoulders, and rubbing it in, taking his time.

“Oh, I can do it,” I tried, nerves riding me. He was so close, I barely had to lift my hand to touch his picture-worthy abs.

“I need to make sure it’s even. I don’t want you to burn. It will ruin the fun I want to have with you tonight,” he said, his face a mask of concentration as he moved from my shoulders to my chest. A shift of his hands would be all it took for him to cup my breast.

He made quick work of my stomach and legs, getting down on his knee. When he glanced up, catching me staring at him, he winked, dragging a hand up the back of my leg as he stood.

The touch was feather-light, but I still fell into him as he stood up.

“My turn.” He pushed the bottle into my hands. “Do you want to start on my front or back?”

“Back,” I said. I needed a reprieve from having his eyes on me. Somehow, this still felt like a dream I was bound to wake up from.

Enzo turned, finally giving me a closer look at his intricate tattoos.

“How long did it take to get this done?” I asked as I started.

“About six months. It had to be done in phases. The outline first, then the shading. Eight hours in a chair.”

“That’s a lot of time,” I remarked.