Page 70 of Forbidden You

I don’t know what it means, but I know it makes me feel good, putting a skittish smile on my face every time I replay it in my head.

I stare at the gold liquid in my glass, resting my elbows on the pop-up bar as I glance over my shoulder through the KPI cafeteria that looks nothing like it did six hours ago.

She really did an amazing job. The decorations are gold with white and red stripes, and even though she pushed through on the cotton candy stall, she also arranged a rhythmic gymnast, a fake fortune teller that takes the piss out of everyone, and a high striker for entertainment. There are two staffed bars that specialize in fancy cocktails, and servers who are walking around with food that’s typical for a day at the carnival.

It all looks incredible.

When she said carnival, I expected bright colors, childish & cheap,tackyshit. But she took the theme and made it something elegant, something both fun and classy.

She made it Kayla.

After she wandered into the living room, wearing that shiny piece of fabric and a pair of Doc Martens, it has been hard to focus on anything else. I try to mingle and network, to show interest in my employees and the business partners she invited, but every single time, I catch myself looking for another glimpse of her.

I constantly want to know where she is, who she’s talking to, and can’t freaking stop.

I’m obsessed, but I will deny it fiercely if anyone asks.

She always looks great. She’s young and fresh and fucking beautiful in everything she wears on a daily basis, but seeing her all dressed up like she is tonight?

It does stuff to me that isn’t supposed to be happening.

I’ve been horny for the last three hours, doing my best effort to drink my twitching dick into a slumber, but it doesn’t help one bit. All my mind does is think about how badly I want to kiss every inch of her body. How I crave to feel the warmth of her pussy over my fingers before I coat my dick in her wetness. How I’m desperate to breathe in her scent and hear her moan my name in a sultry tone.

I grunt, then throw the contents of my glass down my throat and the bartender gives me a questioning look.

“Another one?”

“Please.” I offer him a tight smile and he grabs the bottle to splash two fingers into my empty glass before I pick it up to continue my attempt to drown out my forbidden cravings.

Useless.

“It’s a good night, don’t you think?” With my glass hanging mid-air, I twist my head towards the voice. Rachel’s steel-gray eyes meet mine. Her face is caked with make-up, and her lashes flutter with more volume than I remember from when I hired her, but she never left an impression I considered for too long.

“It is.” I smile, taking another sip of my drink, then turn around to look around the room.

“She did a great job,” Rachel continues.

“She sure did.” I nod while my eyes search for Kayla again.

Like a moth to a light, it doesn’t take long before I find her talking to Agnes with a beaming smile on her face. Agnes says something that makes her laugh loudly and, simultaneously, a smirk lifts the corners of my mouth.

“So, how are you getting on?”

I frown at Rachel’s question, not sure what she means.

“Kayla,” she clarifies with a tone that has me wondering if there is more intent. “Are you keeping her?”

Am I keeping her?

Yes. No.Fuck.

I assume Rachel is talking on a professional level, but for some reason, my mind goes in a different direction. Thinking about what would happen if she were to continue living with me. After the last few weeks, we’ve built a routine. We have a certain pace that seems to grow on me every single day.

I like the fact that I’m not alone when I’m home and even though I try to keep my distance, at least a little, I enjoy knowing she’s close and the thought of her moving out eventually makes me cranky as fuck.

“Bodi?” Rachel cocks her head, following my gaze, and I clear my throat to get her attention back to me, feeling busted as fuck.

“I think so. So far, she has been a real help, and clearly, she has the skills to organize.” I bring my hand forward to show the party. “If I would’ve done this, there would be a bar and a DJ.”

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