Page 2 of Forbidden (Wicked Billionaires #1)

STORM

As I drive north, towards New York City, I have time to think. Things have moved fast in the last month, but it’s good, I guess. The job interview over Zoom went well, and the job offer was great.

They got confused, like most at the start, about my name.

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been called Storm . The nickname came from my folks, because I was born in a wild storm. Somehow it just stuck, and no one calls me Georgia.

As I think back to the last few weeks, images and moments woosh by.

Me quitting my old job. Me saying goodbye to friends. And me saying goodbye to Mom and my small family.

Even if I’m nervous, I’m excited, because this way, I have to meet someone. I wasn’t meeting guys back home, but maybe, it was my fault. Being a recluse book worm is one thing. Being a little curvy, and not focusing on my looks much, likely not much help.

I’m not out of shape, but I do not hit the gym. It’s just not me.

I’ve always considered myself an ugly duckling, but maybe that is just my lack of confidence. I am not on any dating apps, but as soon as I get to NYC, that is going to change.

Going out with one guy for years, but a guy with dreams and no get up and go? What was I thinking? I’ve only slept with him, and that is likely my downfall.

In saying that, he should have known how to make me come. Or cared about making me reach orgasm.

I sigh, as I drive, and I watch the world go by. I have already left Maryland, and I’m in New Jersey. As I push towards New York City, I look at my half-eaten sandwich, and cold coffee. I then see my stack of books.

They give me comfort, and a couple of them are about women on adventures. Being underconfident keeps me on edge, and I don’t like it.

I’ve not travelled far from home before, and I’ve only ever lived in South Carolina. One state, and one guy.

Going way out of my comfort zone is scary, exciting, and maybe, just maybe, healthy.

That is, unless things turn to shit!

Anyway, it’s time to put my English literature degree to work, even if I’m more into graphic design, now.

Working in NYC’s world-class library will rock. As a book lover, I know that, but I want to push my graphic design work, all the way, and meet a real man.

Also, have great sex.

Really great sex, and explorative sex.

I think about my past, stale relationship, and the vanilla sex. As I sigh, I wonder what the men will be like in NYC. If they would be kind, gentle, or commanding.

I’ve read a few romance books, Madison, put me onto. Hot as all hell. Wet. And wild. Yikes.

As I gulp, I’m unsure if the guys in NYC would command me and make me come for them.

Just as my clit starts throbbing, my cell chimes. It’s Mom. I reach over, hit answer, and speaker.

“Hi dear. All safe and good?”

“Fine Mom, and thanks.”

“Where are you, Sweetheart?”

“Just in New Jersey. Almost there!”

“Well done, and just take your time. Now, I have the information on that place.”

I shake my head with the madness. The idea of staying with some friend of the family, is so not me. I hate awkward. I will get a cheap place, and fast. “Thanks, Mom, but you know… ”

“Listen, dear. It’s a free room, and you should consider it. His name is Lorenzo St Clair, and he’s supposedly, a lovely, and charming man.”

Dear God.

“Why does this feel like a bad idea?”

“It doesn’t, and you’re just being silly. Now, he’s done rather well for himself so his place may be safe, for lack of a better way to put it. He works in media, movies and technologies.”

I sigh, and I imagine a nerdy tech geek like Zuckerberg.

“Anyway. The address I have, says penthouse, so it is likely nice! Now, I’ll tell Martha you will arrive tonight, and I’ll send you the address in a minute.”

“Mom, are you sure?”

“Darling, just stay one night at least. What harm can it do?”

There is silence, and the potential awkwardness worries me.

“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 also looks 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 toss my 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 player in 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 basically disappeared from public .

Even if Lorenzo has retired from sex, something tells me, he will have friends. Hot single friends.

If Lorenzo does not come for me in the night, his friends just might.

I shake my head, and tell myself I’m a sad dreamer.

As I sigh, I think about my clothes. I moan loud, now worrying about my plain hair, and my makeup focus, or lack of it. On arrival, I will have to get my act together and fast.

I look down at what I am wearing. Old white Nikes, jeans, and a white T.

I need to buy clothes, get in shape, and I need to become sophisticated .

I lecture myself, as I see Manhattan, and NYC, ahead. Yikes! It’s really happening, and NYC looks massive, and scary.

I tell myself to take charge of my life, and be more confident. To be more adventurous and try more things.

The thing is, I’ve never been confident with guys. I’m only confident with books, and knowledge of books. That’s because I’ve read hundreds, and I ploughed through my degree.

The downside is me needing thick glasses. Likely another reason why boys find me invisible.

Being stuck with innocent looking big brown eyes, and plain brown hair sucks. My girl next door look also sucks!

Whatever.

People don’t seem to realize, I have needs. Sexual needs, and wicked needs.

I even fantasize about having my hair pulled, and being choked. Being commanded what to do, is hot, and in my dreams, I do everything.

Everything, I am told.

As my cell chirps again I climb out of my brain. I look down and it’s Madison, my best friend. I hit a button then speaker. “So exciting, and you’re so going to meet the perfect guy.”

“Right,” I say, staring ahead at NYC.

“And he’ll do wicked things to you!”

“Phah,” I huff. “I just want to read books, and design, but sure. In fact yes, I so need sex. Maybe also some pushing around.”

“And you need a good man. No more losers. Just find someone with skill! You deserve it, babe. Especially after…”

Madison means my ex Billy. During our last year together, he became toxic and scary. He never hit me, but he was right on the edge. It was way over time to leave him, so I did.

Billy has not contacted me for months now, and that is a start. I stay silent for too long.

“You okay, babe?”

“Yeah,” I sigh nervous again.

I’ve always felt inadequate, and I’ve always had to force myself to do things that worry me. Study and get a degree. Consider a new city, and state to live in… Leave my hometown, alone.

Not once did Dad ever say he was proud of me, and Billy was always telling me I was never good enough. Never pretty enough. Never skinny enough.

Never interesting enough.

“Look, you’ll have an amazing time, and you’ve got this. I bet you’ll meet someone too.”

“Right!” I say unsure.

“Do you think you’ll do more volunteering? For another animal shelter?”

“Maybe,” I say. “Once I get settled, and find time, I’ll look into it.”

“That’s good, babe.”

“Oh, and Mom called. Her friend has arranged a place to stay for a few days. The place looks cool.”

“Great. Just be careful, babe, and focus on driving!”

“I am.”

“Another customer. Gotta run!”

The call ends and I drive towards NYC. My eyes sweep the road system, but my mind drifts to Lorenzo. Then his piercing blue eyes, and his sexy dark looks.

I shake my nerdy mind and return to reality. I drive towards NYC, Manhattan, and the Upper East Side.

“New York City! Here I come!”