Page 17 of Come Take Me Now

“Mm, if they look like you, then yes.”

“Fuck me,” I say under my breath.

“Can you kiss me again?” she sheepishly asks, like I’d ever say no to that. She brings her eyes back to mine and stares into my soul.

I can give her that.

“If that’s what you need.”

I push her back against the car door. It’s rough, but if she wants to play with a grown-up, she’s going to find out why her stupid ex never did her right. I dip my head, but instead of kissing her, my lips land on her neck. I inhale her sweet perfume that smells like the orange trees in the spring. Her fingertips graze up my side again, over my shirt, and I tangle my fingers in her long tendrils. Her throat vibrates against my lips as she moans again. I plant kisses along her jawline and meet her lips again. I suck on her plump bottom lip, and I crave the taste of that cherry lip gloss that’s worn off now. Her other arm drapes over my shoulders, and I find her hip. Her fingers trail over the intricate designs along the back of my neck.

You will not fuck this girl right here, right now. Not in the middle of a parking lot.

“You didn’t help my situation,” Tilly breathlessly complains when we come up for air.

I release her hair and slip my fingers down her bare back, under her spaghetti strap, caressing her smooth skin. “Mm, stay wet,” I whisper into her ear.

Go masturbate to the thought of me…your fingers won’t be enough.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before,” she nearly moans.

I grin at her and step back from her. “Goodnight. Go straight home. That’s an order, Bee.” I walk back toward the Escalade.

“Wait, where do I go tomorrow?”

“Tenuta Valenti.”

Chapter Six

Tilly

What do I wear?

My wardrobe is eighty percent athletic wear, fifteen percent ‘normal,’ like denim and elevated tops, and five percent ‘girly,’ like dresses and one-pieces. My shoe selection is even bleaker.

Four outfit options are laid out on my bed for whatever this thing with Enzo is. Do I want to show skin again? Or be more conservative?

“Do you normally fuck guys you don’t know?”

Hearing Enzo say that still makes me shudder, but his words didn’t come across as condescending. I was more worried he’d think less of me when I can count on one hand how many guys I’ve slept with. He’s undoubtedly highly selective of who gets to go home with him and not desperate to get laid like the guys in college were. If anything, he knows what he’s doing by making me wait.

The outfits I laid out were trying too hard for my style. I settle on a matching navy-blue set—flared, high-waisted leggings and a cropped tank top that pushes up my sad excuse for boobs enough to give me a hint of cleavage. The top leaves a small section of my stomach exposed, showing some skin but hopefully not too much. The material is slick, buttery smooth, and one of my favorite fabrics from this brand. I step into cream sneakers and reach for my keys, catching a glance at my reflection in the mirror above my dresser. I could use a touch of mascara and lip gloss, and I leave my hair down with a hair tie on my wrist just in case.

“Where are you going?” Clarissa asks when I cross through the living room.

Oh, my God, she’s younger than Enzo.

“Out,” I answer without looking at her.

“So is your dad. Want me to come with you?”

I glance over my shoulder at her and shake my head. “Bye,” I mumble, reaching for the handle on the front door.

The leather of the driver’s seat is warm against my bare shoulders. Sometimes the leather gets so hot in the summer that I fry the back of my thighs on the seat at first, but Napa’s weather has been milder than I expected. I turn the key, and the new starter does its job of starting the engine.

You love this car—you do not need a handout from Dad, I remind myself.

I repeat that mantra as I follow the GPS directions on my phone to the winery I crash-landed on nearly a week ago. It reminds me how mortifying yet so lucky it was to see him again last night. Mortifying only because he read me like an open book and knew why I was at a bar.