I stepped in behind him and shut the door.

“You don’t understand English?” Tex asked.

“I do.”

He placed the cat back down. Penelope wove between my legs, but I stayed watching Tex as he headed for the kitchen.

“Where the fuck are my glasses?”

I opened the cabinet closest to the small white fridge. It made sense to have them close to where he stored his drinks. I handed it to him, and it slipped through his fingers and crashed to the laminate flooring. Glass scattered everywhere.

“Fuck my life.” He bent down to clean it, but I stopped him.

“Sit down. I will get it.”

“I don’t need you here. I can handle this.” Tex wavered, and I glared at him.

“Sit.” I pressed my fingers between his impressive pecs. I dreamt of fondling them too many times. Tex continued to stand there, and I got closer lowering my voice. “Sit, Tex, or I will make you, and we both know it will hurt.” My head tilted along with the corner of my mouth. “Maybe you want me to hurt you again.”

Tex’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and his pupils dilated, eating at the gorgeous blue of his iris.

“No?” Tex said, licking his lips.

“Then sit down.” I directed him to the small living room.

He plopped down on the couch as I turned around. I made Penelope was locked away in his bedroom before fixing a cup of water.

“Drink this and take this.”

“Not a drug to knock me out, is it?”

I smirked. “I want you awake for anything I do to you. Your reactions are too good to miss out on. It’s ibuprofen.”

I placed the pill in one hand and the cup in the other. Turning away from Tex, I focused on cleaning up the mess on the floor.

There was a strange man in my apartment.

No, scratch that. There was a strange man in my apartment who had fucked me better than I’d ever been fucked before and who was also a murderous bastard. Oh, and he was delicately picking up pieces of glass off my floor. He dampened a paper towel and went back to work as I stared at him.

What the hell is he doing here?

I drank down more of the water to wash the taste of beer and irritation out of my mouth. As the coolness slid over my tongue and washed down my throat, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Enzo finished up with the glass pieces and grabbed my mop next, giving the floor a good shine.

“What the fuck?” I muttered.

“There,” Enzo said, more to himself than to me, as he replaced my mop. His gaze flickered to me. “Now it’s your turn.”

I frowned. “My turn to what?”

Enzo walked over and stood beside my couch. “Drink the rest of your water, and come on.”

“Why?” I asked.

I swear I saw his eyelid twitch. “If you ask me one more question, I’m going to haul you over my shoulder and move you myself.”