Page 58 of The Forbidden
Clearing my throat, I lift my chin, conveying a confidence I don’t feel. His eyes narrow. Then I speak. “Are we going to talk about what happened last week?”
For a brief second, he looks taken aback by my question. His expression flickers, nostrils flare, jaw clenches, but then the mask returns. Cold. Indifferent. “No.”
Just like the message. One word, leaving no room for argument.
But clearly, he doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.
I’ve always been tenacious. He’s going to hear me out, whether he likes it or not.
I close the distance between us, placing my palms on his desk, my gaze narrowing. “Yes, we damn well are. Was the kiss that life changing, it turned you into a coward?” I know I’m taunting him, but he clearly needs to be pushed. “You. Kissed. Me.” I enunciate every word, reminding him that he initiated the kiss and it wasn’t because I was having an anxiety attack. “You can gaslight me all you like, but I know the truth.”
With indifference he reaches up, running a hand through his dark hair. He cocks his head, eyeing me like I’m something beneath his shoe. But no matter what he throws my way, I won’t back down.
With his gaze on me, he rises from his chair, adjusting his tie. My eyes track his every move, narrowing when he speaks. “Well, this has been fun,” he drawls, voice filled with sarcasm. “But if you’ll excuse me, I have a date tonight.”
My stomach twists in pain, and I swear I hear my heart breaking.
He rounds his desk, heading for the door.
“You don’t get to do this to me!” I scream. My voice cracks, I’m hysterical, desperate, but right now I don’t care. I’m done pretending. Evan freezes, his body tensing. I take a tentative step toward him. Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I stare at his muscular back when I speak. “You kissed me,” I repeat. “It meant something. You know it. I know it. Just–”
I’m cut off when he swings around to face me. His icy eyes are wild, and if it were anyone else, I’d be scared. “It meantnothing,” he spits. “It was a lapse in judgement. Nothing more.”
I reel back, a bitter laugh bursting from my lips. I prod him in the chest. “Lapse in judgment? Both times?” I mock. “You’re such an asshole. You call me delusional, Evan, but you’re the one living in a fantasy world, where you like to pretend I don’t exist.” My breath hitches, my emotions getting the better of me. “But I do. I exist, and you,” I jab him harder. “You care.”
His gaze darkens. Before I can grasp what’s happening, I’m backed into a wall and being caged by his arms. My breath hitches. His jaw tics. His body is close, too close, and electricity crackles between us. Palpable. Real.
“I. Don’t. Care. About. You. Anais.” He grates out, enunciating every word as if I’m hard of hearing. I would believe the words, but his eyes betray him. I might not have much experience with men, but I see it. The desire. The want. The need. “What will it take for you to accept that, huh?” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ, you were on a date with another man on Saturday.” He bites out and I note the bitterness in his tone.
“A date you ruined.” I remind him. “What will it take to make you admit the truth?”
“What truth?” he laughs humorlessly.
My eyes narrow. If he won’t admit the truth, he can answer another question.
“The elevator.” I blurt. “Why a panoramic one?”
His eyes narrow, jaw tightens. “None of your business, Brat.”
My laugh is humorless. “Convenient don’t you think?” My brows raise in challenge. “I have an anxiety attack and not a week later, boom, you’re having a new elevator installed.”
Evan cocks his head. “What can I say? I fancied a view while riding to my floor.” He drawls.
“Liar,” I hiss.
“Watch your mouth,” he warns, his voice a growl.
I smirk, my lips parting with a retort, but I never get the chance. Because Evan smashes his mouth to mine in a kiss that steals my breath. Evan’s hands cup my face, angling it where he wants. His tongue prods at my lips seeking entrance, and I give it. How could I not? Evan’s touch is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. He consumes me. Owns me.
“Evan,” I whimper against his mouth, clutching at his shirt, wanting, no,needing, him closer.
Evan pulls back, trailing kisses to the corner of my mouth, my chin, my cheeks, my eyelids, my nose. It’s tender, intimate. So at odds with the tension rolling off him. Butterflies take flight in my stomach. And in this moment, I fall deeper.
“Fuck,” he groans, lips returning to mine.
This time I’m ready for it. My hands trail up his chest, before wrapping around his neck, and pulling him closer. I feel so small pressed against him, but I can’t deny it’s a turn on. His big to my small. Evan is easily 6’4 while I’m 5’5.
His hands trail down my sides, gripping my thighs, and suddenly I’m lifted, pinned against the wall, legs wrapped around his tapered waist. I bite down on my bottom lip. He nips the swollen flesh, and sucks it into his mouth, his tongue soothing the sting. And when his hips roll into me, I gasp, my eyes popping wide.
