Brutal Winter - Page 29

CHAPTER TWELVE: MAXIMO

I can feel his anger the second he enters the room.

Not bothering to look at him, I bring my cigar to my lips and recline in my chair. He lets out a huff of breath from behind me and I know exactly what it does to him that I refuse to give him my attention.

So hungry for my gaze on him, for my mind on him, my hands...

"Maximo," he rasps out and the strain in his voice is like magic to my ears.

I take another drag of the cigar, letting out a soft hum.

"Maximo," he barks out, his voice closer this time. He's right on that edge, the one I love to keep him dangled on before ultimately pushing him off.

I spin around in my chair, propping my feet up on my desk. It's the only thing the damn furniture is good for, that and bending Enzo over it. Fucking him until he forgets my brother, his boss, could walk in at any moment and see me balls deep in his ass while he moans and whimpers for me to fuck him harder.

Glancing at him, I can tell that he's definitely not in bitch mode right now, though, at least not in the good manner. Instead he's fuming, his hands balled into fists as he stares at me. I admire the strength in those big hands and the muscles I know rest beneath his suit.

My own toy soldier.

"You've cleaned up our little mess, yes?" I ask, blowing a cloud of smoke in his direction.

His eyes narrow and he marches up to my desk, slamming his hands down on it. "We don't have a mess," he barks out and I almost expect to see steam floating from his mouth. "You fucked up and expected me to cover for you."

"And that's exactly what you did." It's not a question. I've been testing Enzo's loyalty since the moment I found him on the street. He’d endured everything I’ve put him through without flinching and proven to be more than faithful. And his commitment had only intensified when he'd been inducted into the family. When his loyalty should have switched over to my brother, it'd only grown stronger for me. Nourished and strengthened every time I got my hands on his body and my words into his head.

"Maximo, why'd you do it?"

He doesn't need to say what exactly it is. Nor do I need to acknowledge the hurt and frustration in his voice. I shrug my shoulders. "My brother thought he could keep her from me, I proved him wrong."

He shakes his head vigorously, the composure he's known for cracking further. "How, when he doesn't even know what you did?"

"It doesn't matter if he knows, because I know, you know, and so does she." I place the cigar back in my mouth as I let the words sit between us.

I don't hate my brother, quite the opposite, but I hate the leash he tries to keep me on. And in times like these, when he pushes me, I have no choice but to lash out, to let him know that I'm not like the rest of his little men. One man kept me under his thumb for too much of his life and I won't allow the exact thing to repeat, especially not with my brother.

So if that means fucking with Winter Chastine, then so be it.

I’ll touch her.

I’ll torment her.

And I’ll completely wreck her.

It doesn’t matter whether or not Giovanni finds out, because I’ll know and that’s good enough.

"Max-"

I wave a hand, cutting Enzo off as I rise to my feet. His eyes track the movement. "It's nothing of consequence or to worry about anymore," I tell him, moving closer. When we're standing toe to toe, I bring my fingers to his lips much in the same manner as I did with Winter. "You took care of it for me," I remind him, dipping my fingers into his mouth and enjoying the rough feel of his tongue. I withdraw my fingers, replacing them with the cigar. Ghosting my lips over his jaw and enjoying the rough feel of his beard, I move my lips to his ear. "You protected me. Again."

And the pile of secrets between us continues to grow, weaving their way through our souls and tying us together in a way that not even Gio will be able to come between.

I pull back, withdrawing the cigar from Enzo's lips. He watches me closely and I don't miss the way his eyes dilate, the way the anger is quickly morphing into lust.

Smiling, I reach my free hand under his suit jacket, pushing under his dress shirt and running my hand over the hard muscle. "Take your shirt off," I order him.

He doesn't even hesitate, moving his hands to the buttons of his jacket and quickly undoing them, the shirt being tossed to the side just as quickly. I dip my head forward, dragging my tongue across his right peck before dragging it down over his abs.

My dick rages to life.

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