MEGAN
TENSION THICKENED between us, it coiled up in my gut. I did a huge gulp with wide eyes in shock. Oh, boy. Trouble, here I come. Forrest was only in a towel wrapped securely around his narrow hips. His presence had me utterly speechless. Lord Jesus, he was beautiful in every angle—beautiful than I ever imagined.
My heart was racing wild. My skin grew hot with searing heat rushing up my neck to my face from embarrassment and his… well, he looked like a forbidden ripe fruit. The longer you look, the stronger the desire of wanting a bite.
I opened my mouth to speak, I had to close again, afraid I might say something definitely inappropriate that I should be keeping to myself. I’d had a fair share of men, but he was too perfect for me that made me sinfully melt inside.
I was right after all—his body was covered with beautiful different filigree tattoos, occupying both ripped arms, his chest, and on his abdomen. This guy had a hell of a piece of treasure underneath his clothes, and I was way beyond pleased. I was raw with a pure fireball of lust that I couldn’t take my eyes off of him far off my brain was dictating me to.
I forced back a swallow and said nonchalantly, “I um. I was searching for my phone and maybe I could call my mom.”
He hadn’t moved a muscle, nor replied, and that had me worried. But damn, he had all the muscles in the right places in his stunning and mouth-watering physique—from his massive and striking chest to his six packs down to the perfect V. And my eyes paused momentarily when it ended in his towel.
I was done playing my part being an Academy Award-winning goody-two-shoes role earlier. If he could see through me that I liked what I saw, then be it.
My pulse was already vibrating across my skin. If he ever took a step closer, I’d love to pull the towel off of him in a heartbeat because that was the only thing that barely covering the last package I was so eager to see.
When I lifted my gaze, Forrest was already clenching his clean-shaven jaw, glaring at me with dark furious eyes. I swallowed, feeling my throat parched for being guilty of invading his personal space. And for leisurely checking out the perfect package.
Overwhelmed with his utter male perfection, I cleared my throat. Twice. “Um, I’m sorry. I should’ve waited.” I pointed my thumb. “Down.”
“What do you want?”
You. I’d been fantasizing this moment to be right here with you alone, eat you as if you’re my last meal.
I blinked at my stupid thought. “I told you, I was searching for my phone.” Was he even listening? Or we both had moments? My inner bitch celebrated, but I was probably wrong since he didn’t seem affected to be alone with me in his room.
“Wait down, and let me put some clothes on.” He was not wearing emotion on his face, and it bugged me. Damn, he was so cold and insensitive.
“I’m sorry.” I shuffled toward the door when he spoke.
“I have a spare toothbrush in the bathroom downstairs.”
I turned my head and smiled. “Thanks. I badly need one.”
He barely nodded, still wearing the scowl on his face. I closed the door behind me and let out a long deep shaky breath.
Oh, god! I’m in deep deep trouble.
***
I was staring outside the window, and I couldn’t even admire the beautiful city light from my spot. My mind went back to the broody half-naked Forrest as I tried to think of the reasons why he had his body tattooed. I was itchy to figure out if he inked his back as well.
I wanted to open him layer by layer, to figure him out, to understand him, and I knew it wasn’t easy, but I would take it as a challenge.
He gave me my bag and my phone before we left his extravagant loft. We were indeed in the apartment building in the middle of the city. And he had a penthouse on his own.
“I’ll send you to your apartment. Give me your key so that I can ask someone to pick your car for you.” Finally, he spoke when we got in his car.
“For a smoker, I couldn’t even smell a hint of smoke in your car.”
“I don’t smoke inside.” He revved off from the parking lot.
“Yeah, it seems like it. Let me guess, the next words that will come from your mouth are something like what you see in there, stays in there, right?”
He didn’t reply, so it was a yes.
“Anyway, you don’t have to bother to pick up my car. I’ll hail a cab to the clinic once we arrive at the club.”
“Just do what I say.” His order had me paused for a moment. I’m past annoyed.
I shot him a glare. “Look. Thanks for saving my ass, for taking me to the hospital, letting me rest in your expensive apartment, feeding me with your delicious steak and your world-class wine, Forrest, the bartender. But you can’t freaking control me because I am sitting right next to you in your car. Haven’t you noticed? I can take care of myself. Thank you very much.”
“Fine. Whatever you want.”
I shook my head. The city light passed in a blur. And I was on the edge of yelling at him to talk when the silence stretched between us, and the tension leaped higher and higher and ready to explode into a huge flame.
He parked his car at the back of the club, then got out without a single word. I stayed for a moment, and then I saw he was lighting a stick. I got out and rounded to his side as he inhaled that smoke into his poor lungs.
“I am smoking,” with a growl, he warned me.
“So?”
“You don’t wanna be passive, do you?”
I stared, then blinked, trying to understand his fit of temper. “I guess, this is my cue to leave, isn’t it?”
He showed no expression, pressing his lips tight together.
Before he could place the stick back into his lips, I snatched it from his fingers. “Thanks.”
“Megan!”
“Goodnight, Forrest.” I was about to storm away when he had my arm in his grip in a blink, grunting disapprovingly at me.