Forbidden Attraction (Forbidden Trilogy) (7 page)

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Authors: S.R. Watson

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BOOK: Forbidden Attraction (Forbidden Trilogy)
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WE ARRIVE AT Drai’s Hollywood shortly before eleven. We’re on the VIP list so there’s no wait to get in. The interior of the club is beyond sexy. The red and black lighting lends a romantic feel while the leather seating provides a place for both up front and center or off to the side for more privacy. The color theme continues to the rooftop pool area where chaise lounges are abundant and cabanas offers distinction. Some of the cabanas have platform beds with luxurious pillows.
Oh my ... the possibilities
.

We head to the cabana closest to the back bar—the one without a bed. We have a seat while Meghan and Jordan head to the bar to order tequila shots for us. Okay, I know I swore off drinking, but tonight is about letting go and having fun. We consume about three shots each before we start with our froufrou drinks. The alcohol is beginning to course through my veins and I feel myself relax—until Professor Michaels walks up with a blonde bombshell on his arm. They are definitely plentiful in this city. What happened to Vanessa?

 

He gives Bailey a kiss on the cheek and wishes her a happy birthday. He introduces his date as Meredith and before I know it, Bailey is making room for them to join us. They are deep in conversation and I try not to stare.

She looks like she just stepped off the runway and onto his lap. There’s plenty of seating around us, but I guess if I had the choice, I would choose his lap too. A waiter sees if we’d like to order more drinks and everyone chooses tequila shots again. Deciding to be a little bold, I look directly at the waiter before answering.

“I would like a Screaming Orgasm.” I dare not look at Professor Michaels, but the girls choke on their froufrou drinks before laughing.

“Well, what do you really want, Shiv?” Meghan asks jokingly. I smile while mentally patting myself on the back for my attempt at spontaneity.

After our drinks arrive and some time passes, I notice Bailey and Angie have wandered off. Meghan headed home an hour ago. The alcohol has really loosened my inhibitions and I am tapping my feet in time with the Calvin Harris song blaring from inside about
Feeling So Close
.

“Let’s go dance,” Jordan says.

I look over at the professor whispering to his date and decide it’s either go dance with Jordan or become a third wheel to these two. “Sure.”

I take my time getting up, both to let him have a full view of my ensemble and to get my equilibrium before attempting to walk in these heels. After I feel steady and confident in my walking ability, I put an extra sway in my hips as I sashay away.

We head inside to the dance floor and I am instantly lost in the music. The crowd swallows up Jordan and I can no longer see her, but this does not stop the gyration of my hips. I suddenly feel a hard body pressed against my back and strong hands grip my waist. He smells heavenly—a delicious blend of woodsy and spicy. He’s riding my rhythm with his hips attached securely to my butt. I feel his erection, fueling my grinding, knowing I’m causing this reaction. My eyes are closed and I tilt my head back against his chest. In this moment, I feel sexy and desired. I resist turning to look at him to avoid spoiling the fantasy.

I feel this stranger’s breath on my ear before he nibbles on my neck. I let out a gasp and he grinds himself into me more.

“Such the temptress. I keep losing my self-control around you,” he growls.

That voice. Oh my God. It’s ... “Professor Michaels?”

“Grayson, please. I’m not your professor here.” He spins me around to face him while slipping a knee between my legs. “I enjoyed that little show you put on by the way.”

 

His hands are planted firmly on my butt now as he grinds me against his leg. My dress is riding up and I am afraid that any minute my bare ass will be on display for all to see. Feeling the hem of my dress rise, Grayson tugs it down and holds it in place without stopping his newfound rhythm. His cerulean blue eyes darken with lust and my nipples pebble against his chest. We stare intently at one another while the music fades in the background. “Where is your date?” I ask.

“Who knows? But I don’t really care at the moment.” I pull my bottom lip in with my teeth as a gesture of nervousness and arousal. His eyes are drawn to my lip biting and in an instant his mouth crashes mine, seeking entrance. I part my lips and his tongue meets mine with such passion my head starts to swim. As he kisses me, his hands roam down to my ass. He rotates his hips so his erection is pushing against me with every gyration. I am literally shaking with need. His kisses are hot, his hands causing my skin to feel like it’s blistering every place he touches. I deepen the kiss and he lets out a soft moan, before pushing away from me.

“Fuck! I want you so bad.”

Oh God, you have no idea how much I want you too.
“You don’t see me protesting.”

“Yeah, but you should be,” he grumbles. “You should stay far away from me.”

Okay, his mood swings are giving me whiplash. One minute he acts as though he wants me, and the next as though he doesn’t.

“This is a mistake—a slip in judgment,” he insists. Okay that stings. I can’t listen to him anymore. I need to get out of here before the tears fall.
Who knew I would ever be this prone to tears?
Of course this is a mistake. I’m not clueless to the other option he has waiting for him. What was I thinking?

 

I leave him standing in the middle of the dance floor with his regret. I exit from the club as fast as my heels and tipsiness will allow. Luckily there are cabs waiting along the street to take the drunken patrons home. I see him in the doorway as I get into a cab. Meredith is by his side now as he watches me ride away. I’m glad I kept my small change wallet tucked in my boobs. It has the house key, my ID, and just enough money to get home. My cell phone is at home so I will text Jordan once I get there.

 

 

ONCE I’M IN the safety of our living room, I let the tears fall. I grab my iPhone to see that I already have plenty of missed text messages from Jordan. I respond that I have made it home and I was just partied out. I tell her I’m going to bed so not to end her night on my account. She replies immediately.

 

Jordan: Ran into Trevor. We are going to get something to eat before heading to his place. See you tomorrow :)

 

Me: I will expect a full report. Be safe!!!

 

Jordan: Okay mom…. Lol

 

At least one of us is getting lucky. I look around the empty apartment and the validity of how alone I am squeezes the air from my lung spaces. I choke on a sob, before the tears reappear with a vengeance. Liam and Jordan have always been my buffer to keep me from feeling so despondent after my parents’ split. I’ve already lost Liam and now I feel like I’m losing Jordan too.

 

She has new friends that she shares her time with and I feel our bond is slipping away. Hell, with this attempt at a new me, I feel like I’m losing me too.

A knock on the door startles me out of my pity party. What happened to Jordan’s hookup? Did she lose her keys? I swing the door open ready to explain my teary-eyed state and stop mid-sentence. Shit, it’s Grayson. Again.
Lovely
.

 

 

 

GRAYSON TAKES ONE look at my mascara-stained face and flinches. “I’m so sorry Siobhan. I didn’t explain myself well and I shouldn’t have let you leave like that.” He pulls me to him and gently wipes the tears from my cheeks.

“W-w-what else is there to say?” I stutter. “It was a mistake remember? Besides you have a girlfriend: Meredith, Vanessa, or is it both?”

“I am single and they both know this. Meredith was only in town for tonight. She and I are old acquaintances. I stop seeing Vanessa before meeting up with Meredith, I don’t partake in simultaneous sexual endeavors. If it’s any consolation, nothing happened between us tonight. She has already left to catch her red-eye flight. The important thing is I did not mean to upset you. I only meant that you deserve the fairy tale. I am not a hearts-and-flowers romance type of guy. I like to fuck. There will be no happily ever after with me,” he explains. “I can be your rebound guy, but that’s it. I know you are still my student, but I can’t force myself to stay away from you any longer. If you can agree to a casual arrangement, I want to make it work even though we’d have to be discrete.”

“How did you know my address?” I sniffle.

“I looked in your student file,” he replies guiltily.

He’s said a mouthful. I’m in shock, but one thing I know is I want this man. I should’ve guessed he’d be a commitment-phobe, if that’s even a word. His looks just scream playboy, but I just want a taste. If that kiss on the dance floor is any indication of his skills, then sign me up. Okay, so I won’t be his girlfriend, but ... been there, done that. Maybe this casual arrangement is just what I need to protect my heart. No expectations and no unfulfilled promises of a future—just fun.

“Will you still sleep with other women?”

“No, I will not fuck other women. We will be exclusive while we are together. I don’t share.”

“Okay.” I’m tired of fighting my attraction to him. I’ll use him as a distraction, get him out of my system, and move on.

“I’m going to leave now before I lose my self-control again and take you right here. I want you to have an opportunity to think about what we have discussed in case you change your mind. If you decide you want to go through with it, text me tomorrow and we’ll discuss this arrangement in detail.” He enters his number in my phone before leaving without a backward glance.

 

 

THE MORNING SUNLIGHT shines through my window bringing with it a new day. My alcohol-induced haze has lifted and a replay of last night is brought to the forefront. Did I really agree to a “casual slash fuck buddy” arrangement with my professor? A scandal of this magnitude could be detrimental to my academic standing and his career. Could I take such a risk for someone who isn’t interesting in dating me? Surely we could manage at least companionship without the false pretense of love or happily ever after. I will text him as requested, but we need to talk. I can’t agree to what he has in mind. It is ten o’clock and I don’t want to appear too eager so I decide to text Jordan instead.

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