Page 20 of Forbidden (Wicked Billionaires #1)

LORENZO

When Storm asked me to teach her how to kiss, I knew the universe was messing with me. I had to do everything within me, to not throw her down, spread her legs and devour her.

Or bend her over the back of the sofa, slide her panties to the side, and bury myself deep in her. I almost lost control, and I had to walk away fast. Downstairs, I had a shower, and I fisted my hungry and wanting cock.

The strange part is, she started off as a sloppy and loose kisser, but within seconds, she followed my lead, and she turned into a pro.

As if, deep down, she knew what to do. And that skill was just dormant.

Asleep until it was ignited. That last kiss turned me on, like never before, and it’s as if, we are made for each other.

I’ve never had that feeling before, and it is still messing with me. I think, it’s also because she has no agenda. Get me hooked. Married. Get a ring on it.

Storm is just being herself. Fun. Light. Playful, and living in the now.

She will be my downfall.

I have trouble focusing the next day, and thank God I have to soon fly to Napa Valley for a few days. My friend’s industry party will be a healthy exit.

Time away from her energy, her spirit, those full lips, those eyes, and those wet hot kisses is needed. I leave a message on the kitchen island, and I keep it cold, as I leave.

‘Sleep in. Off to The Hamptons for a meeting. Enjoy your day.’

What I really wanted to say is, ‘Play with yourself and think of me inside you. Shave yourself and I’ll bury myself in you when I’m home. Yours Forever!’

That gets me thinking. Someone could easily damage her, while I’m in northern California next week. They may even ruin her, for good.

Her being alone in NYC, is unwise.

As soon as I land the chopper at my attorney’s in The Hamptons, but before I’ve really thought it through, I message Storm.

Come to Napa Valley. I leave in 2 days. Back 2 days later.

I have the legal meeting, and I sign the many agreements. It is healthy to see someone I know well leading a normal family life, with a wife and kids.

It makes me think of Storm, and how sweet she is. Not that I tasted her.

Yet.

As I walk back to my chopper, and wave out to my attorney, his wife, and their excited young kids on their lawn, I check my phone.

There is a message from Storm.

Only if you’re sure. Would you like me to come?

I groan, as I close my chopper door. “More than you know,” I say as I flip switches and the engines whine.

Let’s do it. See you soon.

I quickly go over pre-flight, and I clip myself into the pilot’s seat. My plan to make sure, no one gets into Storm’s pants is hardly chivalrous. It is, however, all I have.

I need time to work out what to do, all while I fight to control myself, and my desires.

After several intense days in the penthouse with Storm and me keeping our distance, we fly off for JFK Airport.

We switch the chopper for the jet, and I leave the crew at JFK. I want space, and I want privacy.

I fly most of the way to northern California, and I’m nervous about Storm flying my most treasured asset.

It’s not that I don’t trust her, it’s that the jet is worth around thirty million.

It is harder to fly than most craft because it’s so sleek and long, and I had a custom suite built down the back.

For when I want to be alone.

As we travel, I explain what I’m doing in Napa wine country.

Ryan Remington, a friend and Hollywood star, is having a party. It’s at their family vineyard, so it’s a more exclusive event than his usual parties in Beverly Hills.

His residence in Beverly Hills is incredible, and his parties are quite the thing.

Ryan and his brothers, Troy and Chris, are considered Hollywood Royalty. Simply because their parents were Hollywood stars, all three sons are in the business.

They are very private but also very cool and down to earth.

Ryan recently married Caroline, a hot TV star, and Troy the eldest brother, finances movies. He recently married Zara, a talented fashion designer. Troy also runs the family movie studio.

We do the odd co-financing deal, and we shift finance to help each other at times.

Chris, the middle brother, is a talent agent, and he represents huge actors, writers, directors, and producers.

The brother’s father has passed, but their mother Grace, is a cool older woman in her sixties. She is elegant, classy, and charming.

After explaining the Remington’s to Storm, I tell her about another friend who will be flying in for the party. Dante is an old friend, and he’s originally from Tuscany, Italy.

He is well spoken, and I think he comes from old money. In saying that, he does not discuss it. Dante arrived in LA young, and he worked in fashion. After several years, he invested every dime he had in his own label. He then invested in several fashion magazines.

His eye for design talent is second to none.

That’s why he is worth a small fortune.

Storm sounds impressed, and she asks if Dante is married. I pause, because that’s the thing. Many of us are billionaire bachelors, and we do not have normal relationships.

We are simply too busy, and we have trouble finding women who are not gold diggers.

When word gets out, you have money you are targeted.

“Finding a partner who is not after your wealth, is like dancing in a minefield,” I say as I check the radar.

After finishing the long explanation, I roll my neck. I need a break, and having Storm pilot, is likely safer than an hour on auto pilot. I know she has done her flight study fast, and hard, and that she has not completed her license.

In saying that, we have discussed it in length.

As we talk about flying, I explain the details of my complex and expensive jet. Minutes later, Storm sighs and looks over.

“What?” I ask.

“When are you going to let me play?”

I do not like surprises, or change. My world must always be controlled. I check the skies one last time, and the radar, before I flip on auto pilot

I stand and step aside theatrically, before the cheeky vixen lifts her chin. She pulls off my Ray Bans, sits, adjusts the pilot’s seat, and flips off auto pilot.

She adjusts several things, and I stand above her. I watch her closely, she is solid, and focused.

Even if she does appear casual, she is not bad, at all.

I start to point and tell her to adjust our flight path, when she slaps my hand. “You need to learn to trust. You may even have trust issues.”

Our eyes meet, and the playful vixen is testing me.

I know she has another year to go to get her pilot’s license, but she will be able to handle this leg, excluding the landing.

“Please, just get me some peanuts,” she says. I breathe deep, and play along before reaching behind me. I sit in the copilot’s seat, and I put my feet on the console. Screw her.

I open the peanut bag, and I start to eat. After a minute, I toss several peanuts at her.

“Dangerous,” she says in the zone. I toss another and she remains focused. “In the mouth.”

I’m unsure if she’s messing with me, but who really cares, now? It’s starting to get out of control, and the train has left the station. Finally, I stand, and I walk behind her. I lift the packet carefully, and Storm laughs, as she opens her sinful lips. We really are going to do this.

Slowly, I pour my load of peanuts between her full plump lips. Storm chews, and asks with her saucy mouthful, “That it? That’s the full load?”

“You could not handle all I have, dear.”

Dear?

What the...

Suddenly the minx banks left and right. Alarms cry, and I reach over flipping switches. “Hey, it’s not a God-darned toy!”

“That’s exactly what it is,” she says tossing me a look.

I watch her closely and realize she must be watched. “You lack discipline.”

“Probably.” She says. “But the thing is, no one wants to administer it.”

This is getting way out of hand, and I need to shut it down and now! “I’m not good for you, Storm. And you need to understand that.”

There is silence, and we continue flying at five hundred miles an hour over the earth.

“Says you!”

We fly in silence, for what seems like hours. Likely, it’s only ten minutes.

“I was thinking. About what I’m going to wear to the party.” She says. “I’m not really, you know, the gown and diamond type, and I don’t have any evening dresses.”

It’s the one style of clothing we did not buy back in NY. “Right,” I say realizing. “I suspect you’re Anastasia’s size.”

Storm looks over, trying to be casual. She fails miserably. “Is she another ex?”

“No, Anastasia, is Ryan, Troy and Chris’ cousin. She’s a Remington.”

“And you think she’ll have something suitable?”

“She will, and she will be there. Anastasia lives in Bel Air, she’s a costume designer for movies.”

We fly in silence until I decide to mess with her. Just to show her who is in control. “Just remember to behave yourself.”

“Wow, the grump thinks he’s funny, again.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“So grumpy. You know why I think you’re grumpy?”

“No, and I’m not interested.”

“Well, I’ll tell you all the same. It may even help you.”

“Here we go.”

“You. Need. To. Learn. To. Relax.” I shake my head. “And live in the now. Also, lighten the F up. Oh, and also, get laid!”

I sigh and shake my head, “what am I going to do with you?”

I look over, and she is now biting her lip, wearing my Ray bans, and flying in bare feet. She then looks over, drops the shades and winks. God help me!