Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Jesus, there are three plates on each side. I don’t know much about weightlifting, but judging by the way every muscle in his chest and arms strains, it’s a stupid amount.
No wonder he can toss me around as if I’m light as a feather.
Hot damn, he can bench press me any day.
Like a woman who’s been dying of thirst in the desert, I drink in every inch of ink on his skin.
The Godfather covers his entire left forearm, from wrist to elbow. It’s always been his favorite movie and was the first ink he got at fifteen. On his right arm are various versions of the Joker, and I think it represents how unstable he feels.
My attention drifts to the massive piece covering his chest.
A dragon is spread across his pecs and shoulders, every scale inked with insane detail. Its wings stretch outward over the hard curve of muscle, while its claws look ready to tear through skin and bone.
The beast’s head is directly over his heart, jaws open as flames pour from its mouth with smoke snaking down his sternum. Beneath the dragon is an entire city consumed by flames.
It’s made to look like skyscrapers are crumbling, tiny details of destruction woven into every inch of the artwork.
The dragon towers over the chaos like some unstoppable force of nature while everything below it burns.
That tattoo is the reason I got a red dragon on my back. I’m well aware of the fact that it’s creepy, but I wanted to be linked to Enzo in some way.
Opening the communication line to his place, I press the button and clear my throat. “This is your daily reminder to be badass and safe out there.”
He sets the bar down, and sitting up, he lets out a chuckle. “Morning, Rosie.” I remember the carrot and take a bite so he’ll hear the crunch, which has him saying, “Carrots. Seems today is a day for miracles.”
Grinning, I lean closer to the microphone. “See, I eat healthy.”
He drinks some water as he stands up. “When did you last work out?”
“Can’t… got… ta… go… bye.”
“You can pretend to lose signal all you want,” he mutters. “I’m going to convert one of the rooms in the fortress to a gym.”
“There’s no space.”
“I’ll make space.” He walks to the kitchen and begins preparing a smoothie.
I struggle to keep from ogling every delicious part of his back and chest as I threaten, “I’ll block your entry code so you can’t come in.”
“I’ll use Christiano’s.”
Just as I want to say something else, he lets the machine grind and smirks at the camera while tapping against his ear, indicating he can’t hear me.
Two can play that game.
I connect to his home entertainment system, and the next second Lonely by Akon plays loudly in his apartment.
A rare smile pulls at his lips as he shakes his head at me, and then I’m in for the surprise of my life when he does a freaking hot two-step dance. The way his hips move makes heat flood every inch of me, and my abdomen clenches hard.
My voice is a little hoarse when I say, “Listen to the words, dumbass. One day you’re going to miss me.”
He pours the smoothie into a glass and heads to his bedroom. “Either you’re sticking around for the show or getting back to work.”
“What show?” I stupidly ask.
Enzo sets the glass down on the display case in his walk-in closet, and with his back to the camera, he pushes his workout shorts down.
“Oh, my God, Enzo!” I shriek before cutting the communication and camera feed to his security system.
With wide eyes, I stare at the black screen.
I can’t believe he just did that.
Enzo is always serious, but today I caught him in a rare playful mood, and now I have the sight of his hot, firm ass seared into my mind.
An alert draws me out of my thoughts, and seeing Gianna coming into the underground parking level, a grin spreads over my face.
I press the button for the speaker and say, “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Whatcha doing here?”
“I’ve come to kidnap you.”
My eyebrows lift. “To do what?”
She crosses her arms over her chest, and when I open the elevator for her, she shakes her head. “It’s been two months since we last hung out, and you need a haircut. Come down.”
I glance over the screens, and knowing Gianna will stand there until I give in, I put everything in sleep mode. “Fine, I’m coming.”
I grab the central remote, my phone, and tablet, then head downstairs. When I step out of the elevator, Gianna instantly spots the tablet and narrows her eyes at me. “Everyone can survive without you for a few hours.”
“It’s for my sanity. I’ll worry if I don’t have it with me.”
“You do too much,” she mutters as we walk toward the steel doors, then she waves a hand angrily over the length of me. “Just look at you!”