Page 35 of Electric Wounds
The park is not crowded in the same way the ferry was, but there are still hoards of people and at least a dozen heads turn in our direction. Enzo grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet as the crowd of people starts to realize who we are. Well, who the band is.
“Meet at Union Station,” Enzo mutters lowly to the rest of the band. Before I have time to process what his words mean, that we are splitting up, he starts dragging me away down one of the paths, away from the others. Enzo hurries along and I’m forced to run or literally be dragged behind him. He doesn’t stop until we reach a small brick building. He opens a brown metal door, slipping inside with me on his heels. Both of us are breathing hard, the adrenaline still pumping from the escape. As he locks the door, I glance around and realize it’s a public restroom.
“That was close,” Enzo says, leaning against the door with a grin.
I start laughing, the craziness of the day catching up with me. “That was insane. You’re insane.”
He steps closer, his eyes darkening with intensity. “Admit it—you love it.”
I roll my eyes but smile. “Okay, maybe a little.”
Instead of responding, he pulls me close, his lips brushing against mine. The kiss starts slow, soft, but quickly deepens,full of heat and urgency. His hands grip my hips, grinding me against his erection, and I lose myself in the sensation.
“Enzo,” I whisper, my voice shaky.
He pulls back just enough to search my eyes. “What is it?”
“I don’t know if we should…” I trail off, unsure. I find myself wavering between going with the flow and overthinking every interaction with the guys. I just resolved everything with Jax and Dylan, then Marcus and I… kissed. Enzo slept in my bed, came all over my chest, and now wants to have public sex. It’s, well, it’s a lot.
He grins, a confident, cocky look that makes me want to punch him. Then kiss him. “Why not? We both want this.” He doesn’t give me a chance to keep overthinking. Immediately, Enzo’s lips are back on mine, his hands roaming over my body, and I can’t help but give in. The tiny restroom feels even smaller as we move together, the space between us filled with heat and want.
In one smooth move, Enzo lifts me onto the sink, pulling down my pants and panties. The cool air hits my skin, but it doesn’t last long—his hands are on me, his mouth following, teasing and tasting, driving me crazy with every flick of his tongue against my clit.
“Enzo…” I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair as he continues, unrelenting. He lifts one of his hands and kneads my breasts through my shirt, finding my hard nipple and rubbing it against his palm, creating spikes of pleasure. “Oh my god,” I whisper, biting my lip to keep from crying out. His hands grip my thighs, holding me in place while he pushes me closer and closer to climax.
“You drive me crazy, Lily,” Enzo murmurs against my skin before biting on my clit. It sends me crashing over the edge. He continues to lick me as my body shudders, leaving me breathless and sated.
When the last trembles of pleasure finally stop, he stands, his smirk even more smug than usual. “Feel better?”
I nod, still trying to catch my breath, but he’s not done. Enzo swipes his fingers over my clit once more, causing another jolt of sensation. He unzips his pants and pushes into me, his movements slow and deliberate, reigniting my desire.
“Let’s see how much you can handle,” he murmurs, his voice rough, his eyes locked on mine.
The feeling of him filling me is overwhelming, and I cling to his shoulders as he moves. His thrusts continue in a slow and deliberate pace, extending the pleasure from my earlier orgasm and building it anew.
His grip on my hips tightens, and his eyes remain on mine, watching every expression as he thrusts inside me. My eyelids start to droop, and he slows his movements. “Eyes on me, Lily.”
My eyes pop back open and he increases his pace, thrusting harder and faster until I’m gasping his name. His body pushes me higher, the pleasure inside coiling tighter with each pump of his hips. My head falls back against the mirror, but I keep my eyes on him, knowing in my gut that he’ll stop if I look away even for a second.
“I’m close,” he groans, his movements becoming more frantic.
“Me too,” I gasp, gripping one hand on the sink and the other on his shoulders as I meet him thrust for thrust.
In seconds, I’m overwhelmed, my body crashing over the edge for the second time. I feel the hot spurts of Enzo’s release pouring inside me as he gives in to his own orgasm. Our eyes are still locked, and it makes our connection more powerful, leaving us both breathless and shaking.
I release my grip on his shoulder, chest heaving as I catch my breath. My eyes roam over Enzo, his hair disheveled and shirt wrinkled. Then I glance around the dingy bathroom and realityhits. I just had sex with Enzo Rossi, bassist to Electric Wounds, while hiding from ravenous fans in the middle of New York City. I laugh, I can’t help it, this is too absurd not to, and Enzo cocks a brow.
“Care to share?” He asks.
“I just never thought my life would be like this,” I reply, gesturing to him, then to the bathroom.
“Hard to imagine something so glamorous,” He asks, his smug grin still in place, but an emotion I haven’t seen on him before, something close to doubt, flickering in his eyes.
“Exactly,” I reply. Leaning forward on impulse to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He responds immediately, making the kiss deeper and more intense, sliding his hands under my butt and lifting me off the sink. Once my feet hit the floor, he steps back slightly, using the space to pull my clothes back into place. Something about that feels more intimate than anything else that we’ve done in this bathroom, and I work to calm my racing heart. “We should get back to the others,” I say, trying to pull myself together.
Enzo chuckles, kissing me one more time, then tucking himself back into his jeans. “Yeah, let’s go.”
He cracks the door, peeking out of the opening before turning to mutter. “All clear.”
