Page 5 of Forbidden

“Look, one thing. Lorenzo was adopted, and it sounds like he had a hard time in the foster system. He doesn’t really have a family, and he’s a recluse. Just be gentle with him, he was never lucky enough to be loved, like you or I, okay?”

I’m unsure how to unpack that, but I run with, “Okay. And thanks!”

“Good girl.”

“Now, just mind your manners.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And do whatever he says!”

“Okay, Mom.”

“Love you.”

“You too,” I say before ending the call and sighing.

Shaking my head at the madness, I push on. A minute later, my phone chimes. As I pull over, I check my cell. Mom has sent the address, and also the name of the geek. I take a quick look online, and gasp.

Lorenzo is insanely hot. There has to be a mistake. What kind of mother arranges for their daughter to stay with a guy that hot, and in his penthouse? She must not have seen him online.

The kicker, Lorenzo... Is... A… Billionaire.

What the actual hell.

I bite my lip, and I look at him closer. The gorgeous, aristocratic, hunk looks grumpy. Like really grumpy.

I read fast, and articles note he is extremely reclusive, ultra private, and that he avoids being seen in public. There seems to be very little known about him, or his past.

There is one more thing…

The scowling hunk has apparently, dated half the hot heiresses, socialites, catwalk models and actresses, in the country.

I sigh and imagine his penthouse. At least it’ll be better than some cheap Airbnb or motel. I look at the few photos of Lorenzo, all captured with long lenses and by paparazzi.

I stare at a shot of him captured on a beach in Europe. He has broad shoulders, is ripped, and he looks around thirty. He alsolooks like some Italian fashion model. I thumb his face and body unaware, and my clit starts to throb.

As I start to imagine him pushing into me, I exhale long and slow.

BARRRRRRRRRP!

Suddenly, a car’s horn blasts beside my sedan, and I snap back into it.

I tossmy cell phone next to the sandwich, and drive on towards NYC, and him. I think ahead, and I know NYC traffic will get nasty. It is time to focus, but not on him.

The weather ahead, also looks bad, and it looks like rain is cascading down in the distance.

Checking my watch, I suspect I’m an hour from Manhattan. I’m nervous about my new job, nervous about driving into Manhattan, and nervous about the road system.

But now, I’m also nervous about him, and his eyes.

I think about Lorenzo’s enticing eyes, perfect jawline and arrogant tanned face.

He looked like some kind of bad boy hot Mafia type in some of the photos. My nipples start to pebble.

I need help, and I need it bad.

Online it said Lorenzo was a playerin the day.Google noted, he’d dated or bedded half the stunning women in the nation, and maybe several royals in Europe. But, suddenly, he’d stopped, and basicallydisappeared from public.