Page 12 of Forbidden

She laughs and it’s bright, reckless and it’s a match to gasoline. Her hand slides higher, brushing my forearm, and my skin’s blazing, a burn I can’t kill.

“See? Wasn’t so hard,” she teases. “Bet you’ve been thinking it all night.”

“Keep dreaming,” I shoot back, but she’s right. That dress, so short, tight, and hugging every curve, has been replaying in my mind since I saw her. One look today, and I’m a goddamn mess, wanting to rip it off, shove her down, and fuck her till she’s hoarse from screaming my name. It’s been hours, not years, and I’m acting like I’ve never seen a woman before, dick throbbing like I’m sixteen again. She’s Sophia’s best friend. Nineteen years my junior. A line I can’t cross. But my dick’s got no morals.

“You’re fun when you’re mad,” she says, grinning wider, leaning so close her breath hits my neck. “Bet I could make you madder.

“Try it,” I warn, voice a jagged edge, but she’s fearless, her fingers trailing to my wrist, lingering.

“Oh, I will.” Her lips graze my ear softly, and my hold firms, the wheel creaking. “You’re hot when you’re grumpy, you know that?”

“Penelope,” I rasp, shoving her hand off, but my blood’s roaring, surging south. She’s flirting hard, shamelessly, and I’m a heartbeat from breaking because I’m already picturing her under me, those thighs wide, her center dripping wet and my hands bruising her hips as I pound into her till she’s mine.

But she’s not and she can never be. Your daughter’s death should be your bloody reminder.

We hit her street, my tires crunching the gravel, and I slam the brakes a little too hard. Her building looms ahead with cracked siding.

Why is she living in this dump? But it isn’t my business. The quicker she gets out of my life, the better.

I kill the engine, and the silence is electric, snapping between us. She doesn’t move, just watches me with lips parted and eyes dark with intent.

She shifts again, her fingers playing with the hem of her dress and the movement draws my eyes before I force them away. Her lips part slightly, like she’s about to say something. Or maybe she’s just waiting for me to close the space between us.

But I won’t. I’m smarter than that.

“Go inside, Penelope.”

She leans in instead, close enough her breath fans my jaw. “You don’t want me to.”

“Penelope.” My voice is a growl, warning, but she’s suddenly deaf. Her hand slides to my thigh—bold, too fucking bold—and my cock jumps, straining painfully against my slacks.

“Kiss me,” she whispers, lips an inch from mine, daring me. “I know you want to.”

I do. Fuck, I do. I want to crush her mouth, taste her, own her till she’s trembling. Her heat seeps into me and I’m caught between shoving her off and pulling her closer. Our breaths tangle, I’m slowly caving already imagining her naked and writhing with my tongue buried in her cunt, her screams ringing in my ears.

“Shower,” I snarl and force her door open. “Bed. Now.”

She blinks, dazed, then smiles. “Yes, boss.” She slides out, hips swaying as she stumbles to her door.

After making sure she enters and the door closes behind her, I peel out, my tires howling, trying to ditch her—those legs, that mouth, her goddamn nerve shredding me. Then I spot it, her phone, winking at me from the seat. Shit.

I shouldn’t go back. She can grab it later or I can give it to Gianna. But fuck, she’s alone in that dump, what if some bastard breaks in and she’s got no way to call for help?

Excuses. Fucking excuses. I know it’s a lie. I just want her under my skin again.

Muttering a cuss, I spin the SUV around, the headlights cutting the dark, and roll back to her place.

When I arrive, I park and walk up the front steps to find that the door’s unlocked. Ok, that is dumb as hell. I’ll give her an earful later. I’m just going to drop this quickly and be out of here.

The place is faintly scented like her.

I move through the apartment, following the distant sound of running water. When I reach her room, I see the bathroom door is open with steam spilling out.

“Penelope?” I call, gruff, but no answer.

Just to check that she hasn’t slumped since she drank so much, I walk forward and take a look and there she is.

Naked. Wet. Unaware that I’m standing at the threshold, watching as the water cascades over her skin. My breath comes slower but my body responds instantly, every muscle going rigid with restraint.