Take Me Apart (Vitale Brothers Book 1)

Ringing. Constant, annoying, ringing. It infiltrated the dream I was having and I groaned as I reached out, slapping at the nightstand and searching for my phone. Instinctively, I picked up the receiver and pressed it to my ear.

“What?” I mumbled.

“Good morning. This is your five-thirty wake-up call. Breakfast will be up in twenty minutes. Can I get you anything else?”

I peeled open an eye. What the fuck is going on? Shifting in the bed, my legs brushed against sheets that weren’t my off-brand, bargain bin kind. Everything hurt. I pushed my fingers through my hair and rubbed at my eyes, trying to make my brain function.

“Sir?”

“Huh? No,” I muttered. As I glanced around, the night raced back to me. “Shit!”

I hung up as the woman asked if I was okay. All I could think about was the fact that I was in a strange hotel room. And the most horrifying truth of all.

I’d fucked the enemy last night.

Reaching back, I touched my ass and hissed. It felt like I could still feel him inside of me, stretching my hole and fucking me into a haze of stupidity. The scent of his cologne lingered, and I felt his knife pressed against my cock, dragging over my flesh as he stared at me with those deep brown eyes. There was a throbbing around my neck where he’d choked me until I was sure I was going to die.

Shivering, I forced myself out of his bed. I realized I was still holding onto a pillow and I tossed it away, flinging the scent of his cologne up into the air. My cock twitched involuntarily, and I bit back a groan. Last night hadn’t gone the way I planned at all. Somehow, Enzo had gotten into my brain and turned me into an empty-headed bitch.

That thought made my balls ache.

“Fuck!” I snapped.

I looked around for my clothes and remembered they were hanging up in the front closet. I stormed to it, snatched them down, and left a pile of hangers on the floor before making my way to the bathroom.

“I am so stupid,” I muttered.

I flipped on the light and stared at my reflection. How the hell had he gotten into my head like that? How did he know I remembered the code in the elevator? There were a million questions I had about Enzo, but I couldn’t think beyond the constant, aching throb of my asshole.

Before I could do anything else, I needed his scent off of me. It lingered, infiltrating my nose and making me want to scratch him off of my skin. The shower heated after I flipped the switch. I sought out the little complimentary bottles of hotel soap and shampoo once I stepped inside.

I didn’t even get any info. I planted my hands against the cool tile of the wall and thought about what to do next. The risk had been worth it, but the reward was not. But now that I had Enzo Vitale in my sights, I couldn’t even imagine letting it go and walking away from him.

He was mine.

My hands ran over my body, and I pushed memories of him out of my head. As my fingers slid against my hole, I could feel him pressed up against me, the heat of his breath fanning against my ear as he rutted inside of me with the same sure, precise manner that he held himself. Part of me wanted to unravel it, to watch him lose his cool and laugh at the result.

I stepped out of the shower before I allowed myself to go too far down the rabbit hole. Once I was out of the steam-logged stall, my mind calmed, and I focused on the task at hand. Tossing on my clothes, I walked out and started looking. I searched every inch of the place, but just like I’d suspected, there was nothing. No photos, no notes, no technology to snoop through. Enzo Vitale was thorough.

“Shit,” I muttered.

The sound of knocking made me go for my gun, but I remembered I’d left it locked in the glove compartment of my car. No way would they have allowed me into Blu with it. I cautiously made my way to the door, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end.

“Room service!”

My shoulders dropped a bit. I looked out into the hallway and found a man there with a rolling cart. Sighing, I gripped the doorknob. Will you calm down? Everything’s fine! I told myself that, but I was still on high alert. Slowly, I opened the door, and the man smiled at me.

“Your breakfast, sir,” he said. “Would you like it inside?”

“Sure,” I muttered, completely lost for words. “I didn’t order this, though.”

“Mr. Vitale arranged it and has already taken care of everything,” he said as he poured a cup of coffee. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

I blinked at him. “Enzo did this?”

He nodded.

“Okay,” I said slowly, picking up the white mug and frowning. “And where is he now?”

“Gone,” he said shortly.

I raised a brow. “Gone where? Does he come here all the time? Is this his place? Or is it just somewhere he stays the night from time to time?”

The smile stayed plastered onto the man’s face, but his eyes changed. For a brief moment, his gaze flickered around the room as if he was waiting for someone to jump out. When he looked at me again, I stared him down, waiting for an answer.

He shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m sure Mr. Vitale can answer any questions you have for him.”

Right. I wasn’t going to get a damn thing out of this guy. Nodding, I stared at him until he exited the suite as quickly as humanly possible. Shaking my head, I doctored up my coffee and looked at the feast that had been left for me. I didn’t want to eat the shit Enzo had ordered, but my stomach cramped and growled, making it apparent that it didn’t give a damn what I wanted.

I plucked up a piece of toast and went in search of my phone. It was right where I’d started, sitting on the bedside table like I’d put it there, but I was damn sure I hadn’t. Did Enzo do that?

I snatched my phone up and looked at the time. “Shit. Gotta get to work.”

Rourke was going to kill me if I was late. I ignored the slight pounding in my head, jogged to the breakfast cart, and secured myself a plate. Climbing into the elevator, I requested an Uber while I shoveled eggs and bacon into my mouth like a starving person. When the doors opened, a woman stood in front of them and pulled a face at me. I wiped my breakfast off my face, smiled with stuffed cheeks, and mumbled an apology as I shuffled past her.

I dumped my plate on the check-in counter. “Sorry, I don’t know where that’s supposed to go. If Enzo Vitale comes back, can you give him a message?”

The woman blinked at me. “Um, yes, sir.”

“Actually, I should write it down.”

She slid me a sticky notepad, and I scribbled out a quick message. When I passed it back over, she ripped it off and stuffed it into an envelope. I had to admit; I was impressed she didn’t read it. I would have.

“Will that be all, sir?”

“Yep. Thanks,” I said.

The entire ride back to my car I couldn’t stop thinking about Enzo. He was a weird, neat freak, asshole, but damn, I couldn’t get him out of my brain. My cock begged for another round. He was a dangerous, wild thing that had no social norms to adhere to. Yet, I couldn’t think about anything else but his hand on my hip and his voice growling in my ear.

“Oh, get the fuck out of my head already!”

“Excuse me?” The driver looked up into the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowed.

“Sorry, talking to myself.”

The man frowned. “If you’re on drugs right now, I’m putting you out of my car. I’m not dealing with that shit again,” he muttered.

I groaned inwardly and apologized profusely until he stopped glaring. Great, I was starting to make people think I was crazy. Maybe I was losing my mind because how else had I ended up in this situation? From tracking Enzo Vitale to taking his cock, when had I decided that was a good decision?

Get him out of your head. That was the first and last time that’s going to happen.

I shoved all thoughts of Enzo Vitale far, far away from me as I jogged to my car. Time was ticking by, and I needed to focus. I parked haphazardly, rushing into my apartment after I glanced at the time on my phone. I pulled on my uniform, scratched my cat Penelope behind his perfect ears, fed him, and ran out of my place like my ass was on fire.

Twenty minutes later, I was in the precinct. I clocked in and climbed into the passenger seat of my squad car, panting. Rourke glanced over, his dark brow raised as he looked me up and down. I shut my door and stared right back at him.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re late.”

I groaned. “Don’t start. I had a late night.”

Rourke grunted. “I can see that. There’s a mark.” He pointed to his neck with his pen. “Right there.”

I stared at him, horrified, for all of one second before I snatched up my phone and stared at my reflection in the camera. He was right. It wasn’t a hickey or anything like that, but a red line that stood out against my skin. It was right where Enzo’s arm had wound around my throat, those suffocating, terrifying moments when I thought he was going to kill me, only for him to release and fuck the life out of me. My cock twitched again.

Down, boy.

“Where did you go last night?” Rourke asked, making me shut off my phone and glance at him. “I know you came back here after I told you to take your ass home.”

“There was no reason for me to go— Ah! You son of a bitch,” I ground out through clenched teeth as Rourke’s fist slammed into my shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said. “Idiot.”

“Oh, fuck you,” I shot back. “I can still do my job.”

“Until someone grabs your damn arm the wrong way, and you piss yourself in pain and end up with a bullet in your head.”

Rourke was a good friend and a great partner, but sometimes I wanted to slap him. He was so uptight and rigid when he wanted to be.

“I’m fine,” I stressed. “Yes, it hurts, but I can work through the pain if I really need to. Okay?”

Rourke grunted and started up the car. That was as good as I was going to get, and I knew it. I pulled out my phone and checked over my messages before I pulled up a notepad and started typing. Enzo Vitale. Neat. Strong. Notices things. Crazy as fuck. It was a good list, but a short one. I needed more to go on. I had to meet up with Enzo again.

I thought back to the note I’d left him. It was short, precise, and to the point. Just two words.

Fuck You.