Page 24 of Forbidden

“This is not the time or place for spanking, Storm. There is a time for that, and it is not now.”

As we fly on, I feel confused. Did he just… Plant a seed, or insinuate, he, we, us may be spanked?

My heart jumps in a good way, and my clit throbs again.

I desperately want to look over and read his face, but I don’t want to mess things up.

Not now.

Not ever.

After we finda spectacular section of beach, with a large wooden home and trees, Lorenzo banks around. I look down, and it must be one of his friend’s. The place is like a hotel, and stylish and conservative. It has to have at least eight rooms. Maybe ten.

Slowly, we drop, and we land on grass, next to a tennis court.

After we walk along the great beach, and enjoy the sunset, we watch an old movie, and have dinner together.

It’s nice talking, and we get to discuss all kinds of things.

For whatever reason, Lorenzo really is private, and like me, he is content spending time alone.

Often in NYC, when I’m happily reading novels, Lorenzo is reading a stack of movie scripts in his office.

Finally, after the grump catches me yawning, he stands. “Come on, bedtime.”

Sadly, he shows me to one of the spare bedrooms, and that’s when I find out who really owns the huge home.

It’s his.

I ask him why he didn’t tell me before, and he explains it often complicates. Slowly, I get it, and I can see why he doesn’t want strangers to know he has money.

The next morning,after swimming in the ocean meters from the home, we meet up for breakfast.

Lorenzo seems relaxed, and he is clearly less of a grump away from the city. He is even, almost human.

Over the next few days, we avoid the social side of the Hamptons. Especially the fancy restaurants, that people with Ferraris, Range Rovers, and Bentleys appear to flock to.

The only time we leave the home is to get seafood, to BBQ fresh, with bread.

Someone had prepared food for us too, and the pantry is full.

Between reading, walking on the beach and talking, I cook, mostly because the grump is bad at it for some reason.

We use the outdoor cinema screen on his tennis court in the evenings, and we sit on a couch under the stars.

It’s cool, and we choose two movies a night, each selecting one. We recline under blankets, and relax with old wines he has in some hidden cellar.

It’s great to make a new friend, even if I want him to take me, bad. Lorenzo is clearly on another level, and so are his exes who I saw online.

I’m certain the woman he brought back is a top model, and I’m convinced I’ve seen her on the cover of some fashion magazine. I now get that he can be choosy with women, and I get that I have no real chance.

In saying that, Lorenzo is still the best-looking guy I’ve seen, and he has raw sexual energy.

It’s just a shame he is so closed off, reserved, and he does not want me. As we watch the movie under a rug on the sofa, I think about grumpy next to me.

I did some psych papers at college, and even if he’s a nice guy under his hard grumpy shell, he is complex, and maybe, just maybe, damaged. The thing is, he is likely spectacular in bed, and he must know what he is doing.

Deep down, I also know there is someone good inside. Someone real.