Page 117 of Forbidden You

“It’ll be fun. I promise.”

“Unless you’re stripping naked, we don’t really have the same opinion onfun. Will this be your fun or my fun?”

I hold still, laughing at her suspicious stance. “Your fun. Come on.”

With her eyes still narrowed, she saunters toward the guest room. “Get dressed for what?”

“Tea with the queen. Come on, babe. Stop fishing.”

“I’m not!” she cries. “But I need some guidance here. Are we going to get dirty?”Here’s another thought. “Do I need to wear a helmet? A bikini?”

“To have tea with the queen? I haven’t met her before, but I’m gonna go with no.” I smirk, walking backwards towards my own bedroom.

“Oh, ha-ha, asshole. What do I need to wear?”

“Jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie,” I tell her, then turn around to change.

“Will we be outside?” she calls out behind my back.

“Yes.”

She grunts before I disappear into my bedroom, changing into some jeans and a hoodie as I ordered her to do. I give myself a glance in the mirror, running my hand through my messy hair before deciding I don’t give a shit, then grab my keys and wallet to walk out.

At the same time, she struts from her room, and a lopsided grin tugs on my lip.

She’s wearing a white hoodie with her denim jacket on top while rocking tennis shoes and blue jeans. Her hair is up in a ponytail and I watch how she puts some lip balm on with the tip of her finger.

That girl looks so fucking good in denim.

In anything for that matter, but denim has to be my favorite look on her.

“Ready?” I ask, playing with my keys in my palm.

“I guess,” she drawls.

We walk out the door, get on the elevator, and I pull her back against my chest as we ride down. My nose dives into her neck, breathing her in like I need a shot every hour.

The thing is, I do. I need to feel her, touch her, breathe her in every single time she’s near me. And when she’s not? I count the minutes until I can. I grab her hand while we head to the car, the move feeling completely familiar and natural.

The first few weeks I was hesitant about PDA, scared someone from work might see, but lately, I’m not really aware of it anymore. I keep my hands off her when we are at work, but other than that, I just give in to my impulses. And they are on fire when Kayla is around.

“Are you really not going to tell me where we’re going?” We sit in the car, driving through town.

“It’s a surprise.”

“How can it be a surprise when we were on the couch watching TV just ten minutes ago?”

“Stop fishing.”

She purses her lips, her curiosity killing her.

“How long is the drive?”

“Ten more minutes.”

“Ah, darn! There goes my hope of going to Disney World.”

“Oh, trust me.” I grab her hand, linking my fingers through hers before setting it on her lap. “It’s better.”

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