Page 22 of Forbidden Love Still Blooms

When I descend the stairs I'm wearing the same form-fitting black dress I showed up in. It was Part A of my multi-part plan to seduce then murder Dezmond. It felt like battle-gear when I slid it across my thighs, the hem barely covering my ass, the front hugging my bra-less chest.

Now it feels like I'm wearing yellow caution tape. Jordan will take one look at my outfit and confirm I was, in fact, going to have sex with Dez.Why does that bother you?I ask myself angrily.It's better than him thinking you were here to kill his own kid!

Angling my chin up proudly, I finish the last few steps. Jordan is waiting for me at the large round table in the main room. He didn't adjust the lights, they're still on the dimmest setting. Dark shadows mark his face and turn his sharp edges sharper.

My foot settles on the smooth floorboards. I don't make a sound, but Jordan senses me. His eyes snap up to land on mine. No reaction to my racy outfit; the same way he acted when we were upstairs and my whole body was exposed.

“Sit,” he says.

Inhaling slowly, I walk with determined confidence to the table. There are four chairs set around it—I take the one furthest from him. Any distance I can snatch is appreciated. “Jordan—”

“I thought you hated him.”

His bluntness startles me. “Why would you think that?” I ask, forcing myself to laugh.

“Because I'm not deaf,” he says. Leaning back in his chair, he spreads his knees, puts a hand over his mouth. One finger-tip rests on the bridge of his nose. “Last night you stormed off because I insisted Dezmond was a young man still adjusting to life.”

“I was just mad about my car,” I say, shrugging.

“It was more than that.”

“You know what?” I start to rise as I talk. “I don't have to listen to you. You're Dezmond's father, not mine.”

“I saidsit,”he growls. It's a sound no human should be able to make, like tectonic plates in the Earth grinding together. It reverberates in my bones—makes me hesitate. Jordan has not moved but the energy between us yanks at me while he stares me down.

“What if I don't?” I ask. “What will you do to me then?”

His finger stops tapping on his nose. He spreads his legs slightly, reclining deeper, looking unbothered by my attitude. “Sweet bird, you do not want to find out.”

The smallest flutter wakes up between my thighs. It worries me, but not as much as sitting here while I answer his probing questions does. “It can't be worse than listening to you try and bully me around.”

“Bully?” he asks. I can't see his lips because his hand is in the way. Is he disgusted or amused? “If you hate bullies so much than why the hell are you dressed like that to meet my son?”

“That's different,” I say, except it comes out weak.

“Tell me how.”

Narrowing my eyes, I push a hand against the exposed skin between my cleavage and collar bone. “I can dress how I want.”

“I've never seen you wear anything like that before.”

“How would you know what I normally wear?”

His eyes widen slightly. A man caught out on a ledge. It excites me to gain a bit of power over him, so I press it, stabbing the floor with my heel when I move towards him. “Your turn to answer questions, Jordan. Have you been watching me like a creepy stalker?”

“You're trying to bait me,” he whispers against his hand. “I won't play this game, Lorikeet. You're the one doing strange things. Sneaking into my house, pretending you don't loath Dezmond when you spent most of our conversation yesterday slandering him.”

He looks up at me, quietly daring me to come closer. My heart palpitates until it's all I can feel. It only gets worse when I slide my foot another few inches his way. Jordan sits in his chair like he has no plans to get out of it. Relaxed in his muscles, but his eyes … they're frantic with anticipation.

I breathe in faster, smelling him. I was right—outside of his car without the florals lingering, the woodgrain and ocean salt is purely him. “Maybe I hate his guts and want to sleep with him anyway.”

He shifts on the chair. “Is that what you're into, pretty bird? Fucking men you hate?” Darkness swims through his low rasping voice. I'm too aware of my silky panties riding against my swelling clit. He's waking up these sensations. It's insane. And I can't find a way out, stuck on a roller-coaster at the top of a slope, forced to experience the drop.

“Yeah,” I laugh bitterly. “Guess a piece of shit like Dez just does it for me. Is that what you want to hear? I can't stand him, and it gets me wet?”

His nostrils flare from the loud burst of air he pulls in. I hear it leave his lips, through his fingers, like steam from a dragon. His eyes finally move—down, to my breasts. He's seeing my nipples that are tight, tingling, hard as rocks against the front of my dress. “I don't understand you,” he whispers.

“No, you—”

---