Page 105 of The Toy Collector

“It’s called partying,” I point out. “She wasn’t there to babysit me.”

This isn’t the first time we’re discussing Lena and that night at Static. But it’s going to be the last one. I’m done with the grudge he’s holding against my bestie. What happened wasn’t her fault, and there’s no part of me that blames her or thinks she’s responsible in any way, shape, or motherfucking form.

If anything, I’m to blame. The drinks Ben gave me tasted off, but I still drank them. That’s on me, and I’m owning that stupidity. Which is exactly what it was; stupid. I was acting like I had something to prove rather than using my common sense.

I cross my arms over my chest. “If you want to blame anyone, blame me. Or Ben.” When Enzo doesn’t react, I let out an exasperated huff. “And if that’s not enough for you, blame your HR department for hiring him as an intern, since that’s how I met him.”

Enzo abruptly pulls hard at the steering wheel, ignoring the horns from behind us as he swerves across two lanes and parks in the emergency lane.

Before I can speak, his fingers wrap around my throat, squeezing hard enough to steal my next breath. Which is exactly hard enough to make my thighs clench, my clit throb, and my nipples harden.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Toy,” he says, his tone deceptively soft. “Not only have I fired everyone who approved Ben as an intern inourcompany. I’ve made sure he was expelled from Georgetown, and his family has lost everything. Every-fucking-thing.”

When I realize his ruthlessness makes something inside me melt, not recoil, I know I’m not the same person I used to be before Ben drugged me. Bringing my hand up, I slap the one that’s still squeezing my throat, but he doesn’t budge. Not even when I dig my nails in, not stopping when I feel blood pebbling.

“Let go,” I wheeze. He doesn’t.

I do the only thing I can think of; I reach for his collar and pull him closer to me. Luckily, he comes willingly, and as soon as I feel his breath against my lips, he slackens his grip on my throat.

“You’re crazy,” I gasp just before I fuse my lips to his. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling at the ends while I try to tell him how I feel with the kiss.

He kisses me back with bruising force, devouring the air from my lungs, the fight from my body. It’s not gentle. It’s not slow. It’s messy and desperate, teeth clashing, tongues tangling, like we’re trying to consume each other from the inside out.

I moan into him, high and helpless, clutching at his shirt like it’s the only thing anchoring me to this moment. His hands are everywhere—cradling the back of my skull, squeezing my hips.

All I can think about is all the things he’s done for me, and the way he saidour company, like my life has been woven into his so tightly there’s no pulling free now. The realization that there’s no going back isn’t what sets me on fire. No, it’s knowing that I don’t want to.

When he pulls back just enough to breathe, our foreheads press together. His fingers tighten in my hair, tugging just enough to make my scalp prickle, his voice a ragged whisper against my swollen mouth.

“Is this your way of telling me that you’re done fighting me, Toy?”

A sly smile spreads across my lips as I shake my head. “Never,” I promise.

With a chuckle, he presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. Then he smoothly pulls back into traffic and drives us home.

I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever stop fighting him because, no matter how pointless it is, it makes me feel alive. When it comes to Enzo, I’m still learning, and maybe I’ll never stop learning.

When we’re almost home, I turn to him again. “Lena’s coming over,” I state. “I need to see her.”

Something in his expression shifts, almost imperceptibly. “Fine.”

“Really?”

“My men will still be watching,” he says as we pull up. “Doesn’t matter if I’m there or not. You’re never alone.”

“Thank you,” I say, and mean it.

He puts the car in park and turns to face me fully, his blue eyes unreadable. “Don’t thank me for giving you what you want. I’d give you the moon if you asked for it, Toy. But I don’t have to like it.”

And then his mouth is on mine, not asking but taking, his hand sliding up to cup my face. I sink into the kiss, my body responding beforemy mind can catch up, heat blooming under my skin like a fever. When he pulls away, his thumb traces my lower lip.

“Promise me you’re not going anywhere,” he says, his tone making it clear it’s not up for discussion. “And I’ll be watching through the cameras inourapartment—”

“Wait… what the fuck, Enzo? You have cameras in there?” I demand, pointing at the building in front of us. “When the hell—”

“That’s a story for another time,” he chuckles. “Just know I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

I nod, breathless, and step out of the car.

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