Page 8 of Forbidden (Wicked Billionaires #1)

STORM

I get up and I make breakfast for us both. I started to do it several days ago when we were both home more. I know she left in the middle of the night because I heard her at the elevator almost beg to see him again.

I check my watch, and after losing a couple of hours of sleep last night, I should be tired. The thing is, I’m not, and I have work soon.

I sip coffee, and I finish making my sandwiches for the day. I have also made some for Lorenzo.

He is running late, which is rare. It’s likely because he pumped that vixen full of his thick hard cock. I huff in frustration. I’m about to leave for work when he finally comes out.

Lorenzo avoids my eyes, until I hold a coffee in front of him.

He takes it, and I raise an eyebrow, “Fun night?”

Lorenzo lifts his strong chin, and he is not about to be shamed. We face each other, we are both freshly showered.

“So, did you get what you wanted last night?” I ask drinking my own coffee.

Lorenzo watches me, and he steps closer. I step back, his eyes taking me in. “And more.”

I gulp. He smells strong this close. Way too strong, and it’s a mix of suede, cinnamon and brute power.

“It sounded like she enjoyed it,” I say, playing with fire, but intrigued, and jealous.

“Why wouldn’t she? She clearly needed it.”

I toss a clean tea towel at Lorenzo, and he catches it with lightning speed. Next, he turns those dark eyes on me.

I step closer, as if pulled in. My heart pumps hard, and his eyes are almost scary. They make my heart pump, and he is starting to look like another man. Hot. Hungry. Commanding.

“You are a wicked man, Lorenzo.”

He finishes his coffee, calmly, with his eyes holding mine. He then leans down, close. “You have no fucking idea.”

Before I can say anything, he grabs his sandwich bag, winks a thanks, and walks away.

Quickly, I grab my lunch bag, and I walk to my bicycle, that’s next to the elevator. It’s a cool type, and like a beach cruiser.

As my job is a few blocks away, it gets me there and fast.

I hit the elevator button, and I wait as Lorenzo walks out of his office, with his navy jacket. He holds his packed lunch including his apple, just like mine.

Even if it looks way out of place, I know he likes it. He even told me no one ever made him lunch to take to school.

As I spin my bike, to enter the elevator, Lorenzo smiles.

“What?” I ask.

Lorenzo shakes his head, and he holds the elevator door for me. I walk in wearing my short, pleated skirt, and long white socks, that go to just above my knees. We stand side by side against the far elevator wall.

The door closes, and its mirror finish dominates the room.

We end up looking at ourselves, and we smile, and shake our heads. We really do look like an odd couple.

Lorenzo, like some kind of banker, and me, like some kind of goofy girl. Who is an actual woman… with needs.

“Get over here,” he says, before I lean in.

Lorenzo wraps a strong caring arm around me, like a friend’s big brother would. I lean in against his big chest, and it feels good.

He feels good, and he also feels protective, and dependable. As if everything will be alright.

At the end of the week, I’m in my bedroom, about to have a long hot bath and finish a great book. There is a polite knock at my door, and I roll over on the bed in my black boxers and singlet.

Lorenzo leans in, and he stands in a suit, sophisticated, and clean cut. “Any plans for the long weekend?”

I double blink. “Long weekend? Oh shit.”

“Yes, nerd,” Lorenzo says crossing his arms. “Now, would you like to see another side of the city?”

“Called?”

“The Hamptons.”

“Is it a long drive?”

“It can be, but we won’t drive.” Lorenzo looks at my bags in the corner. “Pack, we leave in ten.”

I leap up, excited and move fast.

I’ve never been in a helicopter before, and as I walk towards the sleek chopper, I see Lorenzo preparing to pilot it. I nervously climb in, before he closes and locks my side door.

Lorenzo puts our bags in the back cabin, and he slides into the pilot’s seat. We are leaving from the rooftop, and Lorenzo seems calm, cool and controlled.

I’m not, I’m far from it.

Lorenzo is likely used to sophisticated women, so I command myself to calm the heck down. I look over at him, as I pull on the headset he points to.

I nod in thanks as he watches me close.

I’ve started to notice, when we have fun, and I try to joke around, he doesn’t seem to let his guard down much.

As if he can’t just be him.

It’s as if he gets stuck in his cold, hard, and grumpy mode.

He is either distracted, protecting his billions, or he never learned to live while young. My heart skips a beat when I remember what Mom said. That he had a messed-up family life.

Maybe that’s it, and maybe he didn’t learn to really relax, live, and trust the universe.

I’m suddenly shaken from my thoughts, and I hold onto the seat. I white knuckle the white leather before Lorenzo leans over and reaches for me.

He pauses, inches from my face as the chopper vibrates. After I nod nervously, he straps me in and yanks the straps tight.

There is something about him being close and binding my body up. My clit throbs, and I gulp.

Finally, the engines whine high, and he yanks on the columns. We lift off, and I beam and look down, as we skim over NYC.

After we clear the buildings, we drop and streak along the ocean and up the coast.

It’s a great way to travel, and fast with so many people and cars in NYC. There is however one problem, I am not calm, at all.

Lorenzo notices a knee shaking uncontrollably, and he eyes my clenched fists. My breathing is also tense, and I am beyond anxious.

“Relax,” he says, gently over the headset.

I cannot, and Lorenzo asks me to look at him. I eventually force myself to, and as the airspace ahead is perfectly clear, he turns to me. Lorenzo’s commanding and confident stare, calms me. He then uses his deep voice. “Keep looking at me and slow your heart rate. Can you do that?”

“I… ”

“Trust me and do it.”

His voice and eyes control me, and soon, I inhale and feel calmer and safer. I’m unsure how he commanded me, but he did.

His deep voice had somehow worked on me, as if he had power over me, or my body. Maybe it was even NLP, the mind control technique.

The idea of him controlling me worries me but excites me.

As we fly on, we look ahead, and I am in another state.

I look across the ocean, and the beauty, distracts me. My fists open like flowers in the sun, and we fly over dunes, trees, and water, towards homes on a distant beach.

“Beautiful?”

“Oh my God, yes.”

“That’s good,” Grumpy says. “You get too uptight at times.”

I spin my head around fast, and the always scowling grump is smiling. I whip my hand over fast, and I whack his hand.

We suddenly drop, and I scream loud.

Lorenzo corrects us as my heart races.

“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 find a 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.

After the last movie we return to our separate bedrooms. I can’t sleep and I can’t stop thinking about Lorenzo in the very next room. Even if it is a heck of a long shot, I’ll need to raise my game to ever have a shot with him.

I turn on a light, skim read various romance eBooks on my Kindle, and I nerd out and take notes.

My mind processes, and one part of me tells me to be careful and not play with fire. The other side tells me to do this…

Tease…

Flirt…

Seduce…

I turn the light off, roll over in the huge bed, and I look up at the ceiling. I am nervous and I’m unsure. I cover my face with my hands, and I sigh long and hard.