Page 25 of Forbidden Game

I blow her a kiss as the elevator doors start to close, and she rolls her eyes.

I smirk and return to the chaos behind me.

Brick by brick.

I’ll break down those walls.

FIVE

SYDNEY

This is a serious problem.

My finger refuses to push the call button. I’ve been staring at my phone for five minutes without moving a muscle. All because I keep seeing Parker’s cock flash in my mind every time I go to press it.

We need to leave for the airport in the next few minutes to make our flight. Normally, I would’ve gone right up to the penthouse and dragged Parker’s ass out of the apartment. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Because for some stupid reason, I’m still hung up on seeing him completely naked two days ago.

And hung he was.

Ugh.

I thought I’d made myself immune to the guys. I’ve seen Parker in just his briefs thousands of times. Jackson is always shirtless for Sunday breakfasts. I’ve even gotten an eyeful of Aleks’ cock before when I walked in on him changing for a shoot. So why is this time any different?

I think I’m spending too much time with him.

There used to be a clearer divide between my personal and professional life. But each year that passes with The System blurs it more and more. And now that their personal and professional lives have become one, it feels like I’m playing a whole new game.

“Miss Lake.” Francis’ voice breaks me out of my spiral. “Is Mister Covington on his way?”

I shoot a bright smile at our driver. “Yes, he’ll be here any second.”

I bite the bullet and hit dial, but it’s all for naught as the elevator doors slide open to reveal the blond prince within.

Parker pushes off the elevator wall and strolls out, rolling his designer carry-on behind him. He is dressed in a custom pair of electric blue joggers with a matching hoodie, which he has paired with a pair of all-white Balenciaga sneakers and sunglasses.

How does he look so damn good wearing that?

I bet if you put that same outfit on anyone else, they’d look like a giant blue jellybean. But Parker Covington isn’t just anyone else. You could dress him in a brown takeout bag, and he’d still look ridiculously handsome. With his perfectly high cheekbones and knife-sharp jawline, it’s like someone plucked him out of a fantasy novel.

“Earth to Sydney.”

I snap to attention as Parker dips to face me, his nose inches away from my own—his perfectly sloped nose.

I’m sure if you went on Pinterest and searched “attractive British model,” Parker would pop up.

“You’re late.” I snap my shields down as I take a healthy step away from him.

“I’m never late, other people—”

“Are simply early,” I finish for him.

He says the same overused quote all the time.

I avert my eyes from his piercing gaze, instead opting to watch as Francis takes Parker’s roller bag and places it in the trunk alongside my own overnight bag. Mine, however, looks comically small compared to his.

“I’ll have you know that not even you can make an airplane wait.” I hop into the car, and Parker follows suit, shutting the door behind him. His legs spread, knees almost touching my own.

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