Page 96 of Forbidden
“Don’t say that,” I warn my student in a growl.
“Okay, but I’m not going anywhere.”
That is what I want to hear, at least until I can control myself. The complicated bit however, just got more complicated.
We are not even attempting to slow things down.We are unstoppable.
As perfect and rare, as it feels, I know it’sforbidden.
It just feels spectacular, and I don’t want it to ever end.
As we spend the rest of Sunday together, I try not to think aboutus, and if there could ever be a stable, or long lastingus.
It’s hard, but there is something about Storm. She is not just another model, who has been around the clubs, and bars, orthrough guys with money. She is not hunting guys with money, like half of Manhattan.
Storm is pure, uncomplicated, open, innocent, and honest.
And she is doing what feels right, trusting the universe, and not throwing up walls.
It makes me want to protect her more, protect her from the worst life can, and at times, brings.
There is no way I can try my usual games on her. No way I can just claim and keep my distance from her.
There is one last thing, that sets her high above all. Storm has no idea, no idea at all, how amazing she is, and that makes me want her.
Even more.
The kicker, her honesty, her uncontaminated spirit, and her curiosity, are contagious. They are igniting my own soul or spirit, and setting me free.
I feel my hard exterior breaking down. I feel my stress reducing. I feel the protective walls that I’ve created, eroding, and the sun shining in.
I’m becoming a normal human again, and I am becomingthe real me.
The child I could never be…
Has a chance at being human.
29
STORM
Lorenzo and I agree to take the week off, and we decide to get out of the city. I’m lucky the library lets me take a break, but I have worked my butt off for them since starting. I’m also on top of my graphic design projects.
Lorenzo has several meetings around the country, so we decide to combine two things. Travel, and time together.
Lorenzo informs tells his private jet crew they have the week off, paid, and the idea of a fun trip gets me excited. Lorenzo is used to having staff, but I don’t feel comfortable being waited on.
By anyone.
We fly west alone, but when I notice the compass swing south, I know something is up. Lorenzo comes clean as we fly on, and he explains he has a place he wants me to see. Hours later, we land in Georgia.
A uniformed man picks us up in a white Range Rover, and we drive through stunning Savannah.
After being driven to a gorgeous southern mansion, now boutique hotel, we walk around the property. It is a massive piece of land, with the mansion down a long drive. Large trees fill out the estate, and horses are peppered around.
So far, it feels like an upmarket exclusive retreat.
“I don’t come here enough,” a relaxed, Lorenzo says as we stroll under the trees.
