Page 83 of Forbidden Mistress

“So, wait, what does this guy look like?” Sam asks.

I purse my lips. “Tall, muscular, angular jaw. So handsome…and older. A lot older.”

Avery angles her head. She’s the most innocent of all of us, and she’s been wide-eyed for my entire sexcapade story. “How old are we talking?” she asks.

I shrug. “Umm, I think he said he was forty-three.” I rush on, speaking quickly in the wake of their shocked expressions. “Listen, it doesn’t matter. As they say, age ain’t nothing but a number, right? Especially when the guy is tall and muscular—so damn hot. And perfect, because I was just looking for a one-time thing.”

“Forty-three.” Avery gasps incredulously. “You cannot be serious.”

Sam busts out laughing. “Oh, my God, that’s my dad’s age, girl. Are you scanning the AARP membership list for dates now?”

I hold up my hand as if taking an oath. “Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it,” I say defensively. “This guy really knew what he was doing. He was miles better than the guys our age who haven’t met a clit in their entire lives.”

My thoughts are cast back to the way my sexy stranger stepped out of that shower, completely naked with droplets clinging to his abs. His hot gaze was fixed on me as if he wanted to eat me up. I’d snuck into the bathroom and caught him stroking himself while the water cascaded over his chiseled frame. That image will be forever branded in my mind as—hands-down—the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. And the sex that followed…dayum. I gulp as my inner temperature rises by several degrees just from the memory of it. Whew.

Sam glances down at her phone, then curses under her breath.

“What’s up?” Cassie asks. “Everything okay?”

“My dad is here,” she answers as she types out a text to him.

I laugh. “Uh, yeah, duh. It’s parents’ week. That’s why we’re all here.”

“Yeah, I was hoping he’d opt out. My dad is a complete asshole. But hey, he pays the tuition so I guess he gets to come to the events, whether I want him here or not.” She’s still glancing down at her phone. “He’s parking,” she says, tucking the phone into the back pocket of her jeans with a roll of her eyes.

“He forks over a fortune to you every month,” Avery says. “So he can’t be that bad.”

It’s true. I’ve heard through the grapevine that Sam’s dad is a self-made billionaire, though I’m not sure how he made his fortune. She doesn’t really talk about it. I think it embarrasses her. But she never wants for anything. Everything is paid for—tuition, housing, car, and her dad gives her a generous clothing allowance. We all benefit from those last two, sometimes borrowing her car or her clothes.

Sam sighs. “Yeah, but it’s his guilt money. He pays to make up for basically ghosting me after the divorce—the divorce he caused by cheating on my mom. I’m telling you, the guy’s an asshole. He’s probably only here today to save face.”

I push out a breath. “Well, all we have to do is smile through the next few days, then we’re off the hook until next year.”

Cassie pushes out of her chair—she’s seven months pregnant and not moving too elegantly, but she’s still quick on her feet, striding a few feet away to wave down her stepmom and her stepbrother-slash-baby daddy in order to direct them to our table. Not long after that, I spot my parents arriving. I pop up and wave them over to our table, too.

At that same moment, I catch sight of someone else approaching from the corner of my eye. He’s tall. That’s what I notice first. A tall, bearded Viking who moves with confidence in his long stride. And he’s walking straight for our table.

I turn my head to get a better look at this new gorgeous specimen when my heart stops.

I blink.

What?

No.

It’s the guy from this morning. The one who fucked me so hard I’m still sore. I didn’t even catch his name, but he’s walking straight toward me. His blond hair is combed back, and his blue eyes are just as vivid and sharp as I remember from hours ago. He’s wearing khakis, a navy sweater over a white dress shirt, and a long, tailored coat. Dayum. He looks wealthy and polished today, like he just stepped away from his yacht club to attend this shitty luncheon.

I frown. Is he stalking me? What the hell is he doing here? Did he actually hunt me down? Dude, time and place. And with my parents here, now is definitely not the time or the place. Shit.

I take a step forward and open my mouth to say something when he catches sight of me. His gaze collides with mine, and his step falters—only slightly—as confusion dawns on his face.

Confusion? Okay, so…clearly he’s not here for me, then? Or… What the fuck is going on here?

That answer comes almost immediately.

Sam walks up to him and says, “Hey, Dad. Our table is right over here.”

I don’t know what she says after that because the floor instantly tilts beneath my feet. I feel nauseous, and it’s hard to breathe. My parents are awkwardly greeting my roommates, and I’m standing here, dumbstruck. I blink rapidly, but that doesn’t help. My chest feels tight and I think I see spots as I watch Sam and her dad.

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