Page 10 of Forbidden
Storm is forbidden.
She has to go, and that is when it hits me. Storm has been sent by the universe…
Totest me.
4
STORM
Lorenzo tells me to follow him, and I do what I’m told. As I head through his apartment, I drip, and I leave a wet trail.
Having to park down the street was hell, and running through the rain with my bags did not help.
As I follow Lorenzo, his large frame, his tight butt, his amazing dragon tattoo, and his commanding presence, through the apartment, I realize it’s not just big. The apartment is huge, and so far, it has covered the entire floor.
I start to worry I’ll get lost, as we pass cool art covering walls, and weird old antiques.
There is also a large stone wall, with a massive collection of antique swords on it.
The penthouse seems to have a mixed look, of all kinds of styles, but somehow it works. Most of it is cream colored marble, but with a lot of natural wood, and stone.
It’s not that zen minimalist white modern style that is cold and frigid.
The warm colors and natural feel, make it strong, and inviting, but castle-like. It is however clear, no woman has ever put her stamp on it.
It is not overly macho, with motorcycles, cars and silly man toys. It is warm, ultra-private, huge, and sophisticated.
Like a private hideout high above New York City, Manhattan, and Central Park.
As we continuedown another wide, wood and stone passage, my jaw drops. The section we’re now in, has an art gallery feel to it, and I’m sure I recognize some paintings from past masters.
I’ve already decided I don’t like NYC cabs and their barking horns, or parking in Manhattan. Being high above everything, and just under the clouds, is way more calming.
As I follow Lorenzo, and his bronze God-like body I have trouble not drooling. Following his tight butt, in the towel, is almost hypnotizing.
Suddenly, he enters a room with a high oak door, and he motions me inside.
“I think this will be the best room for you.”
I look up at him nervously, and I catch his piercing blue eyes flick quickly over my breasts. I don’t mind some guys doing it, if they’re hot.
He is, and he was clearly trying hard not to look. I get that my nipples are now visible, but I can’t exactly help that now.
As I slide past his athletic body, I lower my eyes, and squeeze through. The problem is, even if it’s respectful to look down, I’m forced to look at the v thing at the bottom of his eight pack.
The tight towel makes me look at the outline of whatever is stuck down his pants. Nothing is that big, soft.
No darned way.
I walk in and the room is huge. The massive windows that look over Central Park and Manhattan, are also stunning.
I nod, and Lorenzo places my bags down as if they’re light or empty. As he stops at the door, he makes another grumpy command, “follow me.”
“Hang on,” I say fast.
I don’t know how to do it, so I lean on the door next to him, and I pull off my wet shoes. I almost fall, and his strong arm catches me.
I hold onto it, and I manage to peel off my first wet sock.
