Dangerous Ride
1184 Words
HAZEL'S POV:
Enzo’s emerald gaze bored into me, sharp as a blade, cutting through every wall I tried to keep up.
"The hell are you waiting for?" His voice was a low growl, dark and challenging.
He tossed me a helmet.
"Let’s go, unless you’re dying to spend more time with my old man."
"Absolutely not," I replied, keeping my voice cool and steady even though my pulse was racing wildly. I couldn’t let him see any hint of nerves, not here, not in front of his father. Enzo’s smirk widened as he grabbed my wrist and guided me out the door.
"Relax. We’re just going for a ride," he said, his voice smooth yet laced with an intensity he wasn’t even trying to hide.
"There’s no way your father’s allowing you to ride a motorcycle," I challenged, watching his jaw tighten as we stepped outside into the crisp air. He turned, casting a defiant look over his shoulder.
"Does it matter?" He shrugged, his gaze cold and commanding. "I’m the mafia now. I do what I want, when I want." The words hung heavy between us, his confidence unyielding.
"Is that so?" I muttered, unable to keep the spark of admiration from slipping into
my tone as I studied him, taking in every inch of that ruthless confidence that seemed to flow through his veins.
The way he moved, the way he spoke, it all radiated power and control.
I had to test his limits if I wanted any chance at completing this mission.
"Let me drive," I taunted, doing my best to suppress the grin threatening to break free, the glint in my eyes giving me away.
He scoffed, shoving me toward the bike with a roughness that felt almost like a dare.
"You? Drive my f*****g motorcycle?" His voice was lethal and venomous. "Do you have a death wish, or are you just that desperate to play tough? You think I’m going to risk my life for some f*****g girl who wants to play ponies?" he growled, his voice growing darker with every word.
"Woman," I corrected, stepping closer, my hands sliding down his sides until I slipped the keys out of his back pocket.
"And I’m not trying to play ponies, Enzo." I licked my lips, savoring the taste of control. "I want to ride."
He stilled, eyes narrowing as realization dawned. A low chuckle escaped his lips as he loomed over me, his presence suffocating.
"You… tricky little thing." He tried to sound unfazed, but I caught the split-second hesitation.
I leaned in, taking advantage of the moment.
"C’mon, cariño," [Darling] I teased, letting the word roll off my tongue. "Let me take control, just this once."
The amusement in his expression darkened.
"Control?" He scoffed as if the word offended him, his face hardening. "Cariño? You think I’m the kind of guy you can say those things to? Not a goddamn chance." His instant rejection only made me want to push harder.
I plugged my ears, feigning innocence.
"Was that a yes?"
"Hazel," his voice dropped into a low, dangerous threat. "One more word, and I swear..." he snapped, veins starting to show on his neck.
"Ah, thanks for agreeing," I interrupted, throwing the helmet on, knowing I was only wearing down that iron control of his.
His jaw flexed. He muttered a curse under his breath, but there was a flicker of something primal and dark in his gaze that made heat rush through my body.
"Tch," he scoffed. "Were you always this talkative?"
I hushed him, taking a second to admire the skull designs on his motorcycle. A strange wave of familiarity washed over me.
No. It couldn’t be.
I shook my head, pushing the thought away as I hopped onto the front of the motorcycle, gripping the handles firmly.
"C’mon, hotshot." I glanced back at him, eyes glittering with mischief. "Grab my waist." A smirk curled my lips. "Unless you’re scared."
I smirked wider.
There was no way I could fail this mission.
He was almost making it too easy.
He froze for a moment, as if still processing.
"What the hell did you just say?" He scoffed. "Me? Scared of you?"
"You’ve got this all wrong," his voice came out rough and dangerously sexy, as if he was playing along with my game, waiting to unleash something of his own.
I didn’t back down.
"Have you never touched a woman’s waist before?" I teased. It was meant as a joke, but the way his eyes darkened told me it hit deeper.
"I f*****g have," he retorted, his tone gruff yet carrying a hint of vulnerability.
His cool composure was slowly fading, and he knew it.
"Put your hands around my waist then," I whispered, letting the challenge linger.
His jaw clenched tight. Spanish curses rolled off his tongue as his hands finally settled on me.
I wasn’t expecting him to be so… good with them.
His grip sent a shiver racing down my spine, possessive, punishing, and a dangerous reminder of exactly who was in control.
"Y-You seem nervous," I breathed, reaching for his face. He smacked my hand away before I could even make contact.
"I’m not f*****g nervous," he growled.
"Really? Because your face is red..."
He gripped my chin hard, tilting my head forward.
"Red? It’s a natural reaction. You’re getting on my nerves."
My heart hammered as he pulled me flush against him, his chest pressing into my back. His hands tightened on my waist, keeping me completely still. He was punishing me, making me pay for every taunt with every brutal, steady grip.
His fingers slid up my thigh, teasingly close, making every nerve in my body hum with tension.
"Lesson one," he murmured into my ear, his voice low and rough, his breath hot against my neck. "Keep your leg up, or you’ll feel the burn of the engine."
I bit my bottom lip as his huge muscles held me tight in his arms. I hated how much I loved how harsh he was treating me. His presence, his touch, it was too much. And yet… not enough. The tables were already turning, and they shouldn’t have.
"If I slipped my hands under that skirt," he whispered, fingers teasing the ruffles, "what would I find?"
Heat pooled between my legs. My cheeks burned. But I met his gaze, forcing control back into my expression. I wouldn’t let him draw a reaction out of me.
"You want an answer? Fine," I shot back. "You’d find me drier than this conversation." I bit down hard, clenching my thighs tightly together.
He smirked, as if he knew better.
"Liar."
His hand gripped my thigh tighter.
"Your lips aren’t moving but your body is talking to me."
He revved the engine, ignoring how my breath caught.
"I’ll let this slide since you’re new to how things work around here." His voice was sharp, a warning wrapped in steel.
"Hazel."
As the bike roared to life beneath me, his words echoed in my head.
Liar.
I had started a fight I couldn’t win.
- Writer
