I work my teeth over my lower lip.

  Lifting the phone to my ear, I keep my eyes on Angelo. He’s still an unknown. An apex predator, and I feel like I shouldn’t look away.

  “Hello?” I ask slowly.

  “Hey, darling.” The unmistakable voice greets me.

  My eyes widen. “Uncle Enzo?”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ANGELO

  E ven sweaty and under the influence, Beth is still the most enticing woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her small hand under mine, clutching my shirt, is the most intimate thing I’ve felt in a long time. She’s alluring. Perfect. And someone fucking drugged her.

  “Uncle Enzo?” Hearing the recognition in her voice lets me breathe a small sigh of relief. She’s far enough gone that I was worried she wouldn’t know him by voice.

  Then it hits me. Uncle Enzo. She called him Uncle. She’s not some mistress. She’s not involved with him. Fuck. She can’t be related to me. Beth… Beth… Why do I feel like I should know this name?

  Like a brick to the face, it’s suddenly there. This is Lizzy. Elizabeth. Uncle Enzo used to talk about her all the time. He’d been friends with her dad. I remember some story about the guy dying and Enzo vowing to keep an eye on his kids.

  I tighten my grip on her hand, thanking the gods that she’s not some distant cousin.

  I’m still not sure what Beth is doing here. Why she’s not going by Lizzy. And, now that I think about it, I’d bet money her last name isn’t really Smith. It’s such an obvious last name, so common, that I didn’t even think to question it.

  I turned up the volume on my phone before I handed it to her. I wanted to be able to hear both sides of this conversation.

  I lean closer to Beth.

  “You gotta trust me on this one, darling.” Uncle Enzo says. “Angelo will help you.”

  Her fingers work nervously, absently, against my chest. Her gaze on her lap.

  “But he hates me.”

  What?

  “What?” Enzo asks. “Angelo doesn’t hate you.”

  Fucking right, I don’t hate her.

  “I know him, Uncle Enzo.” Her emphasis on know makes it sound biblical.

  Enzo hears it too. “What do you mean by that?”

  Beth sighs, sounding more sad than defeated. “I don’t know him, know him. He’s always at the gym. I see him there, and I see how he looks at me. He doesn’t think I should be there.”

  “Why would you say that?” Enzo asks.

  I watch her bite her lip. Her words are already making me feel like shit, and I’m positive her next answer is going to make me feel worse.

  I watch her swallow before she replies. Her voice gets quieter. “He doesn’t think I’m good enough. I’m not like the rest of the women there. I’m different. I’m… well, you know… I’m not skinny like them.”

  A growl rolls through my body and I snatch the phone away from her. Not wanting to let go of her other hand, I end the call and slam the phone onto the table then grab her chin. “You listen to me, baby girl. I don’t think any of the things you just said. Not a single fucking one. You need to get that shit out of your head. Alright?”

  Her eyes are glittering with unshed tears and it fucking kills me. I know she wouldn’t be saying any of things if it weren’t for whatever drug is in her system, but I hate that she’s carried around these toxic feelings for the past two weeks. And I hate that I’m the cause of them.

  “You know what I see when I look at you?” It's more a demand than a question.

  “What do you see?” She asks in a whisper.

  I loosen my grip on her chin. Sliding my hand down I gently hold her neck. “I see fucking perfection. I see the face and body of a goddamn goddess. I see a woman that was built to tempt me.” I stroke my thumb up and down the front of her throat. “Do you hear me?”

  Beth nods.

  “Good. Now are you going to cooperate and let me bring you home?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  BETH

  I nod again. I’m having a hard time following, but the seriousness in his tone, the way he’s touching me, makes me want to trust him.

  “Good girl.” Angelo releases my hand and stands.

  I forgot that he’s been holding it this whole time.

  It’s so loud in here. Why is it so loud?

  Angelo gestures to someone. I watch as a large guy in black comes over. He looks serious. Is he a security guard? Angelo points to himself. Then to me. The new guy looks at me. I wave. It’s a weird wave. Why did my fingers move so slow? I flex them. Opening and closing my fingers to make a fist.

  A large hand lands on my shoulder. Good lord, was I just watching my hand? What’s wrong with me? Didn’t Angelo say something about drugs? But that’s not right. I didn’t take anything. And I don’t do drugs. I mean other than regular drugs. And I smoked weed in college a few times. But that can’t be what he’s talking about, is it? No. That doesn’t make sense.

  The security guy hands a phone to Angelo. Angelo pockets the phone and gives the guy some keys. Was that Angelo’s phone? Is everyone talking to Uncle Enzo? Does he own this club or something? He owns a lot, so maybe.

  Wait, how does Angelo know Uncle Enzo?

  Angelo turns back to me, crouching down. “Can you walk?”

  “Umm…” I think about the question. I think about it for probably too long.

  Angelo shakes his head. “Never mind. I’ll carry you. But you’ll need to help. You might be tiny, but carrying dead weight is harder than it looks.”

  I choke on a laugh. “Tiny? Have you seen me?”

  Angelo cocks an eyebrow. “Have you seen me?”

  Even my slow brain has to concede that point. He’s freaking mammoth.

  “Okay.” I reply, meekly. “Where are we going?”

  “I’m bringing you home. I don’t see a purse. Did you have one with you?”

  I think about it, but then shake my head. “No. I wore my pocket pants.”

  I pat my hip and feel my phone. Then check my waist for my credit card and ID.

  His eyes trail over my bare arms. “Jacket?”

  I shake my head again.

  “Beth, you’ll freeze to death outside in what you’re wearing," he scolds.

  I shake my head again. “Just gotta run to the car. Not gonna die.” Is what I try to say. I think my words got jumbled on the way out.

  Angelo sighs, and pulls off his hoodie.

  My eyes stay stuck to his muscled form, as I obediently let him thread my arms through the sleeves.

  “It’s a little big.” He says, with a small smile.

  I wrap my arms around myself, relishing in the warmth. I don’t remember being cold before, but this is nice. Tipping my head forward, I inhale the scent of Angelo. It’s… man. It smells like man. I’m going to live in this sweatshirt. It’s like a blanket. It’s a blanket-shirt.

  “Time to go.” Angelo says. He grabs my hands and puts them on his shoulders. “Bridal style is not the easiest way to carry a person through a crowded room. A piggyback ride would be best, but I can’t really keep you from falling off.”

  I nod, as though I understand what the hell he’s talking about.

  “So, you’re going up front. Wrap your arms around my neck. When I stand, wrap your legs around my waist. Alright?”

  I swallow. “Alright.”

  Angelo grips my hips and pulls me to the edge of my chair. My body instantly reacts with a flood of highly inappropriate hormones. Something about being manhandled just does it for me. Then his hands slide until they’re under my ass. My ass is not small. But his huge hands engulf my cheeks.

  Woah.

  Wait, what am I supposed to do?

  “Hang on to me, baby girl.” His lips brush against my temple.

  Baby girl. Hearing his deep voice call me that short circuits my already frazzled thoughts.

  Then I’m rising and my arms tighten themselves around his neck. When Angelo reaches his full height, he boosts me higher and my legs instinctually wrap around his waist. Or as far as they can get. Even his waist is big.

  One of Angelo’s hands stays in place holding my ass, while the other bands across my back. The embrace is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I like it. And I feel myself melt into him.

  The view from way up here is too much, so I close my eyes and bury my face into Angelo’s neck. He smells nice. Like his sweatshirt. I hug him a little tighter, rubbing my nose against the warm skin at the collar of his shirt. I can feel the rumble from his chest to mine. I think he said something, but I couldn’t hear it.

  “You smell really nice.” Each word has my lips scraping against his neck. “Thank you for the ride,” I say and I feel another rumble from Angelo.

  I drop my head onto his shoulder. “I don’t know why you’re helping me. You don’t like me.”

  His hold on me tightens. “I like you, Beth. I’ll tell you again tomorrow, so you don’t forget.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ANGELO

  I adjust my grip and hoist her a little higher. Her warm, soft body pressing into mine is some sort of cruel and unusual punishment. Her lips on my skin - literal torture. And by the time I get her out the front door to where I had security pull my car around, I’m rock hard. It makes me feel like a goddamn pervert, getting turned on by a drugged girl, but I can’t help my body’s physical reaction to Beth.

  The security guard opens the rear door for me, then hurries back inside. It’s all of ten degrees out here and - like me - the guy’s probably freezing in a t-shirt.

  “Beth.” She doesn’t react. “Babe, you with me?” I lean my head back, trying to get a look at her. “Well, shit.” She’s passed out.

  Doing my best not to jostle her too much, I lay her across the backseat. I debate for all of a few seconds on how to get a seatbelt on her before I give up and shut the door. I’m fucking cold and there’s no safe way to secure her while she’s laying down.

  Rushing, I get myself into the front seat. Letting the warm air blow around me, I look back at Beth.

  “Goddamnit.” I mutter.

  If something happens to her while I’m driving, Uncle Enzo will literally skin me.

  I get back out and open the rear door. Gently, I pull her up to a sitting position and strap her in. The backrest of the bench is adjustable, so I angle it back just enough to keep her from tipping forward.

  Finally back in the front seat, I rub my hands together in front of the heater. I think I might have another sweatshirt in the way back of my Suburban, but I’m not getting out again to look for it. Instead, I grab my phone and enter Beth’s address in GPS. Good, it’ll take me 20 minutes to get there. That should be enough time to get my dick under control and to come up with a plan.

  It’s not.

  I drive past her house, then circle the block. I still don’t know what sort of trouble she’s in, but Uncle Enzo asked me to look out for her, so that’s exactly what I’m going to do. But what I’m supposed to do once we’re inside… I have no idea. Do I stay and watch over her? Do I leave and just lock the door behind me? What’s the protocol for this situation? I decide to stick with what I know, personal security, and go from there.

  Nothing struck me as suspicious when I drove past, but I’ve never been here before so I wouldn’t know if anything was out of place. It’s nearly midnight in a residential neighborhood, so I would expect it to be this quiet.

  Pulling into the driveway I find it odd that she has a little shitty pickup as well as the Honda I’ve seen her driving at the gym. But knowing Enzo he might have supplied her with a whole fleet of random vehicles.

  There’s a large window on the front of the house. Through the curtains I can see there's a light on inside, but it’s dim. Probably a lamp. Most people leave a light on when they know they’ll come home late.

  I look at my text from Uncle Enzo and memorize her door code, thankful I won’t have to dig through her skintight pants to find a house key.

  Bracing myself for the cold, I get out and collect Beth. She’s still pretty out of it, but I get her awake enough to hold on.

  “Hang on tight.”

  She hums her agreement and nuzzles into my shoulder as I lift her from the car. She promptly falls back asleep. Kicking the door shut, I force myself to ignore the way her lips feel, parted against my neck.

  Professional. I’m a motherfucking professional.

  Quickly striding to the front door, I free a hand and type in the code. A beep sounds and I turn the lock and open the door.

  The smell of chocolate wafts over me as I step through the threshold. I relock the door behind me, then firm my grip on Beth.

  Looking around in the soft light, I see that I’m standing on the edge of a dine-in kitchen with a living room over to my left. On the far side of the kitchen is a hallway, which I imagine leads to her bedroom. I take one step forward before a sound halts me. I know that sound. It’s the sound of claws on hardwood floors.

  I brace myself to see a dog, but I’m not prepared.

  “Jesus Fuck!” My voice is louder than I intended, and I retreat until my back hits the door.

  A large, dark and angry Boxer is the first to charge out of the hallway. I open my mouth to try and placate the animal, but my words are cut off by the white horse-of-a-dog that follows. Of-fucking-course she’d have a Great Dane.

  “Beth.” I nudge her head with my own.

  I’m guessing these dogs won’t attack me while their owner is in my arms, but I don’t really feel like putting money on that bet right now.

  “It’s okay. Good dogs.” I use my calm voice. It doesn’t work.

  The pair slowly prowls across the kitchen, lips pulled back, teeth on menacing display.

  Great. This is really great. Would it have killed Enzo to tell me about the pair of Hell hounds?

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  I’m not caught off guard very often, but it’s clear that tonight is not my night.

  From the sound of the voice, a goddamn kid just got the jump on me. Reluctantly, I pull my gaze away from the canine threat, and find a teenage boy standing just inside the kitchen. Hair askew. Pajamas rumpled. Hockey stick raised in the air like a baseball bat.

  This just keeps getting better and better.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ANGELO

  M oving Beth’s weight to one hand, I raise the other, palm out, trying to show I’m not a threat. I don’t know who the hell this kid is, but he’s acting like he lives here.

  “Look kid…”

  He cuts me off, stepping closer. “I said, who the fuck are you?”

  He’s brave, I’ll give him that. But I can see that he’s shaking. Well done, Angelo. You’ve lusted after a woman who’s incapacitated by a date rape drug, and now you’ve frightened some poor kid in his own home.

  “My name is Angelo. Beth is my friend.”

  His face hardens. “Bullshit. She doesn’t know anyone here.”

  I want to convince him that I’m not a threat, but the advancing dogs keep pulling my attention away.

  “Can you call your dogs off?” I ask.

  “No. Put her down.” He takes another step closer.

  I gotta hand it to him, I’m an intimidating guy and he isn’t backing down.

  I shake my head. “Not gonna happen until I’m sure those dogs aren’t gonna try and rip me apart.”

  “Beth!” The kid shouts her name, his voice sounding a little frantic. She doesn’t stir.

  I take a breath. “My name is Angelo Rossi. I’m a member at Atom’s Gym. I know Beth from there. We were at the same place tonight celebrating a birthday. Enzo Costa gave me this address so I could bring her home. You might know him as Uncle Enzo.”

  The kid’s face registers shock before he narrows his eyes at me. “You know Enzo?”

  I nod. “He’s my actual uncle.”

  I watch as some of the tension leaves his face, but he doesn’t lower the hockey stick. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “The dogs?” I gesture with my chin.

  The kid looks at the dogs, hesitating, before deciding. “Bam. Pebbles. Chill.”

  The word is clearly a command, since both dogs instantly relax. They turn their heads back to the kid, tongues lolling out.

  “Thanks.” I say. “Smart dogs.”

  “My dad trained them.”

  “Who’s your dad?” I ask.

  I know it’s not the time for questions but I’m curious who this kid is. Is he Beth’s son? He looks too old to be hers, and he’s calling her by her first name, but anything is possible.

  The kid’s glare turns even frostier. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She… drank too much.”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Look, she can talk to you more in the morning. But for now, she’s fine. She’ll be fine. I promise.” As I reassure him, I give Beth a small shake. Turning my head, I talk right into her ear. “Beth, you gotta wake up for me. We’re home.”

  She groans a little.

  “Beth?” The kid comes closer, looking back and forth between me and the woman in my arms. “Beth, are you okay?”

  His voice breaks and my chest tightens. This kid is really worried about her. Scared for her. And his nervousness is seeping under my skin.

  “Wake up, babe.” With the kid’s eyes on her face, I give her ass a little pinch. It does the trick.

  “I’m up. I’m up.” She mumbles.

  “Beth!” All the bravado leaves the kid as he rushes to close the distance between us. Thankfully lowering the hockey stick.

  She lifts her head a little. “Noah?” I hear the smile in her voice.

  “Are you okay? Do you really know this guy?”

  She blinks then looks up at me. “I’m good.” She takes a deep breath. “This is Angelo. He’s… He smells nice.”

  The kid, Noah, looks disgusted with her answer. I smirk. I do smell nice.

  She reaches out to touch Noah’s hair. “I’m happy you’re home. It was lonely here without you.”