Enforce(52)

The cup was shoved back into my face, but I gripped her wrist and flipped her around so that her back was against my stomach. Damn, but it wasn’t helping things. As it was, my pants were so tight I was ready to bust free. Just having her pressed against me, and my mind went wild with possibilities.

“Read the flavors,” I ordered in a hoarse voice as her ass pushed against me. Holy damn, I was going to lose it.

“Out loud?” she snapped.

“Hmm, I think I may like that.” I chuckled, my lips itching to nibble down that neck of hers.

“New York Cheesecake, Blueberry, Chocolate Chip, Vanilla, Chocolate, Cake Batter…”

“Why do they sound better coming from your lips, do you think?” I whispered in her ear.

She froze. Hell, I wasn’t even sure she was breathing. The air around us tensed.

I needed to move before I stripped her naked then licked the frozen yogurt from every crevice in her body. “Want a sample?” I reached for a pink spoon and held it out.

She closed her eyes and nodded.

“Open.”

Her lips parted.

I slowly slid the pink spoon through, not even remembering what flavor I’d given her. “You like?”

She looked drunk with pleasure. Damn, was the frozen yogurt that good? I was so beyond tempted — I simply acted, my head dipping closer to hers and then finally my lips grazing her mouth, my tongue sneaking a taste of the frozen yogurt before pulling back.

Holy shit. I’d just kissed her. Holy shit. Talk about kissing the enemy. Frank was going to shoot my face off. “Sorry, I thought I saw some frozen yogurt. My mistake.” I laughed it off when really my heart was pounding so hard I thought I was going to have an attack and pass out on the floor. One simple kiss had done that. Huh.

“Liar,” she said breathlessly, pushing past me. “So what, do I just pull on one of these thingies?”

“Well, I prefer the word stroke but—”

Her face erupted with a blush. She jerked her hand away and added some frozen yogurt to her cup — though it was a bit shaky. She managed to get as much frozen yogurt on the ground as she did in the container. Then again, I wasn’t exactly practicing fine-motor skills either. Pretty sure my tongue hanging from my mouth and my arousal gave outsiders the impression I got off by watching people eat frozen food.

I quickly grabbed my own helping and followed her to the toppings area. “Wow, didn’t take you for the gummy-worm-type of girl.”

“Huh?”

I pointed to her cup “Uh, yeah, I love… worms.

I had to damn-near pinch myself to keep from laughing out loud. I was doing that lot with her, having to remember not to laugh, forcing myself to stay stern when really all I wanted to do was laugh my ass off then kiss her senseless.

“Ready?” the bored teenager at the till asked.

“Yup.” Trace placed the yogurt on the scale like I did mine. “Twelve dollars and nineteen cents.”

Shit. I forgot I had no cash. Reluctantly, I handed over my black card. Anthony was going to piss himself — again.

The kid glanced at the card and then did a double-take. Ah yeah, he was going to have one of those reactions.

We started to walk out, but he spoke up. “Um, I know this sounds really dumb, but can I have your autograph?”

I froze, rarely did I write my signature on anything. This kid had hero worship in the worst way. He knew what I was known for, probably because his dad or a friend had an obsession with the Chicago Mafia. And the sad part? He’d probably glamorized it with what he’d seen on TV, not even realizing how deranged my life was.

“Sure thing…” I calmed myself down then signed my name on a napkin. “What’s your name?”

“John.” Freaking stars exploded in the kid’s eyes.

I wrote down his name and also included a threat. Tell no one. That’s all it said, but John would probably do the exact opposite. “We have an understanding, John? Nobody knows we were here?”

John’s eyes widened as he looked at the napkin then back up at me. I leaned over the counter. “I need to hear you say it, John.”

“You weren’t here.” John stumbled over his words. “I swear.”

“And where did you see us?”

“On the street. You, uh, you were going for a run.”

“I do like running.” I winked and smacked the guy’s shoulder. “Thanks again, John.”

“N-no problem, Mr. Abandonato.”

All signs of Trace’s smile were gone as we made our way to the car — replaced by curiosity.

Damn, but I wished it would have been fear.

At least then she would walk away, or allow me to.

Instead, she looked… accepting.