Page 2 of Forbidden

Muttering under my breath about being woken up from myveryhot dream starring my even hotter neighbor, I got out of bed and pulled on a pair of sleep shorts. While it was damn near thirty degrees outside, my mom kept this house sweltering hot in the winter since she was so cold-natured. Leggings in this house was near impossible for me to wear unless I was planning to go outside, and even then, I was usually sweating by the time I made it downstairs to the front door.

I walked over to my window and pushed it open, hoping to let out some of the heat. Sweat was clinging to my skin already. It was a miracle I’d managed to actually sleep instead of tossing and turning all night.

After brushing my teeth, I shoved my feet into my bedroom slippers and headed downstairs. Mom beamed at me when I emerged from the living room and into the kitchen. “Good morning, honey. Coffee is ready. Want to help me make breakfast?”

I shrugged as I moved toward the coffee maker. Every weekend during high school when I was home and not at my best friend’s house, I helped her make breakfast. It was sort of our thing, and honestly, I’d missed it. I loved spending time with her.

“Sure,” I told her. I grabbed the coffee pot and poured some into the mug she had waiting for me. “What are we making this morning?”

“Scrambled eggs and bacon,” she informed me. “I’m working on biscuits now. So, if you’ll work on making those, I’ll focus on these,” she said, pointing at the bowl she currently had all the ingredients for the biscuits dumped in.

One thing to know about my mom, she didn’t make a single thing out of a box. She made everything by hand—biscuits, bread, pizza. The only boxed thing we had was plain pasta, and she told me it was because she was just a little too lazy to make that herself, too.

My friends always loved coming over here because the food was damn good.

“You’ve got it.” I took a sip of my coffee before setting it back on the counter and moving to grab the food I needed from the fridge.

I enjoyed living away from home, even if I was just in a dorm room, but I did miss these moments with my parents. I missed the family bonding time. And sure, my parents were both strict, but they were still my parents, and I loved them. I knew everything they did, they did it with my best interest in mind.

I might be a brat because they spoiled the hell out of me, but I normally always came around to their way of thinking. They meant the world to me, as did their approval.

“Dad at work?” I asked Mom as I scrambled the eggs into a bowl.

“Yep. He wanted to be home today, but something came up, and he has to be there. You know how it is with those unexpected meetings.”

I did know. My dad worked for a huge security firm and was the executive assistant to the vice president of the company. And while many people thought that was such a crap job, my dad was paidexceptionallywell with great benefits. Since my dad got the promotion ten years ago, my mom never had to work another day, and I got to go to a private school and even join sports and other extracurricular activities I hadn’t been able to do before.

So, people could say whatever they wanted about his position. My dad was making mad bank and he was happy, and that was all I cared about.

After we made breakfast and ate, Mom changed into her yoga outfit, kissed me on the cheek, and left to go to her yoga class. She’d picked up a routine after I left for college, and though she’d said she didn’t mind changing her schedule while I was at home, I hadn’t let her. I was grown now; I could manage on my own at home for a few hours. I wasn’t here to disrupt their new lives.

After taking a shower and watching the first twoScreammovies, I finally forced myself off the couch and headed to my room, changing into a pair of leggings and an oversized long-sleeve shirt. Putting my Bluetooth earpieces in my ear, I turned on my favorite running playlist and shoved my feet into my sneakers.

Just because I was home for the holidays didn’t mean I could slack off on my exercise. I didn’t do any sports in college—not like I did in high school—but I still liked to be physically fit, especially since I was majoring in physical education. Running was one of my favorite things to do, especially when it was cold outside.

I glanced over toward Jenson’s house when I stepped out onto the porch, unable to help myself. But he wasn’t home—not that I thought he would be. He worked for a construction company, so no doubt, he was out somewhere working. Getting hot. Sweaty. Dirty…

Fuck.

Groaning, I spun on my heel and jogged in the opposite direction of his house, hoping I could run myself ragged enough that I wouldn’t be tempted to get myself off to thoughts of him once I was back home.

When I got back home,a light drizzle was starting, and I was cold. My hair was clinging to my face, and when I pushed it back, I noticed Jenson getting out of his lifted black truck. The sides of it were caked in mud, and when he rounded the hood, I saw he didn’t look to be in much better shape. His boots were caked in mud and some white powdery-looking stuff, and his jeans were covered in dirt and stains, his flannel shirt not in much better shape.

He just smiled at me before going up his porch steps. He took his boots off outside before walking into his house.

I blinked, my heart racing. He hadsmiledat me. Christ, why was my heart threatening to burst out of my chest just because of asmile?

Clearly, my obsession with him had not gotten better while I’d been gone. Apparently, it had only festered, showing its face as soon as he smiled at me. I liked to think I had it under control, limited to naughty dreams, but apparently not.

I stomped inside the house and headed into my room to get a shower. Maybe I’d be able to get the thoughts of Jenson out of my head while I was bathing.

And if I got myself off to thoughts of him and that damned panty-melting smile… well, no one had to fucking know.

My body washot all over, like it was trying to crawl out of my skin. I’d had dinner with my parents, and we all watched the thirdScreammovie together before heading to bed. It was well past midnight now, and I couldn’t get to sleep despite actually being tired.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Jenson dirty, just coming home from work. What would it be like to strip him out of his dirty clothes, to bathe him in the shower, and then drop to my knees and suck his cock to the back of my throat? Give him what he needed to relax after a long, hard day?

I sank my teeth into my lower lip, and my hand drifted between my legs, unable to help myself. Just the mere thought of his dick between my lips, his hands in my hair?—

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