Forrest

Chapter 7 Yielding Temptation

FORREST

What the fuck?

I COULDN’T understand why she loved watching a movie so dreary. The plot was cliché. It was about a woman with a colorful sense of fashion who fell in love with a guy that she met before she knew he was the CEO of the company where she worked. I could appreciate reading than watching it because the acting was awful. I gave credit to the girl though, besides having real tits, her eyes were striking blue, but man, the guy was a fucker.

I tried hard to be a normal person beside Megan, but I couldn’t just laugh with her. It was her who I was amused with. I held a groan most of the time—her excitement caused me a little discomfort—knowing that it was her hand touching my thigh and gripping my arm as she thought it was the exciting moment in the movie, and my little fucker was partying in his cage. Great! My inner goodness had been tested quite a lot lately.

When the main characters shared their passionate kiss and the intimate scene rolled, I averted my attention like a virgin. Fucktastic! My dumb brain, my stupid heart, and even my pesty cock were ecstatic to the thought that I and Megan were in that movie. It was annoying and stupid! What have I gotten myself into?

She bumped her arm against mine when the credits rolled, grinning, eyes sparkled mischievously. “I know you didn’t enjoy the movie.”

I shrugged. “It was okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell me to watch another movie instead?”

“It was your choice, and it was really okay with me.”

She gripped my arm and smiled. “Most men argued about what to watch. They thought rom-com is absurd and the ending is unrealistic.” Well, they’re right, but I don’t want to spoil your moments.

“Then you should know by now that I am not one of most men. Most action movies are unrealistic as well. Imagine punching ten villain’s sidekicks, escaping from the raining bullets, jumping from rooftop to another, never get a sprain, and the hero remained unscathed other than a small cut on his forehead at the end of the movie.”

She laughed. “Thanks for coming over, Forrest. I really appreciate your company.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Fuck! Did I just say that out loud?

“Of course, I should be.” She laughed even more and widened her eyes. “We’re friends now, right?”

I stared at her, and she was beautiful. She always took my breath away. Her small nose was perfect for her small face. Her ruby lips were spread into a smile, and she had a cleft chin that added to the features I liked in her. For more than a year, she never changed her hairstyle, other than curling it or changing hair colors, but she still looked beautiful in my eyes even she was at her lows.

Her pupils suddenly reacted, and the satiny looked lips parted. I realized I’d been checking her out. We were alone in her apartment, our faces were merely a few inches apart, her hot breath was fanning my face, promising me a delicious taste of her succulent lips, and I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, hear the thundering of my heart, and my skin crawling in anticipation.

Still burning with desire, I stood up and took a deep breath. My nerves were still buzzing. “I should go. It’s late.”

“Do I get to see you again?”

I looked down at her again then grabbed my jacket. “It’s a small world, Megan. You know where to find me. So, Yes.”

“Let me walk you out.”

“Don’t you girls usually meet every weekend?” I asked nonchalantly as she led the way to her door.

“They’re all busy. We still meet though, but not like before.”

When I reached the door, I faced her. “Would you mind me asking how did you get the nosebleed?”

She looked away. And my guilt cut in deep. I didn’t know why I had to open my fucking mouth. What I did was stupid and I ended up hurting her when my only intention was to keep her away from that knucklehead.

“Megan, I am not a good friend, not even close, and I can’t promise to protect you because I can’t even protect myself, but I hate to see women being hurt especially when I was there and couldn’t do anything.”

“Is that why you never dated because you don’t have the gut to rip the band-aid off and tell them that you wanna walk out of the relationship?”

My eyebrows met. “What made you think I don’t date?”

She leaned against the doorjamb and crossed her arms over her chest. “First, I never saw you with any women and the boys never noticed you with anyone. Either you kept your women in your lair or you don’t date. With this look, I am sure you’re not a virgin anymore. So, either you have a secret girlfriend or you’re itchy about commitment. That makes the two of us, yay!” She pinched my arm playfully.

My frown deepened. “You guys talked about me?”

She grinned instead of feeling guilty. “Well, duh. Of course. We thought you’re hot and sexy even though you brood most of the time.”

“I prefer to keep my personal life private.”

Her eyebrow lifted. “Why do I feel that you are a secret billionaire?”

I snorted. “Do I look like a billionaire? If I am, I won’t be working in the nightclub, I probably own one.”

“Maybe. Keeping a low profile. Or you could be a long lost son of a billionaire who wants nothing to do with his wealth, or maybe you helped a rich spinster. When she died, she left her billions to you.”

I wished I could tell her who I was, but did it matter? “I hate to break it to you, Megan, but I am not.”

“Don’t you have any day job?”

“No.”

“You’re actually an interesting person, Forrest. You’re mysterious, yet I can feel that I can trust you. And you’re the only person who never hit on me.” Oh, you definitely get that idea wrong, love.

“Don’t trust me too much. You might end up disappointed.”

She burst into laughter. “Oh, you’re maybe a man of a few words, but I know you’re a good guy. You said it yourself that you hate women get hurt.”

“Goodnight, Megan.”

***

At my loft, I was staring at the plain ceiling for a good hour, watching the car light streaked through the opened window. I chose to go home to the shop than to my apartment. I didn’t know why. Perhaps, I

was expecting to have breakfast at the diner again? With Megan. Jesus, I had it bad.

The image of her parted lips had my skin burning hot. Those innocent touches while we were watching a movie, her rich voice when she laughed, her curves, and her breasts as I pulled her into my arms when she almost got into an accident. How could I get rid of those images in my head?

I realized it wasn’t so hard to get closer to her if I’d done something before. Now I got it why she’d been acting differently lately; she just lost her job, almost violated by her ex-boss, and harassed by that asshole. I wished she knew me and I wouldn’t have any problem helping her.

I groaned in irritation. Everything was keeping me awake. I rubbed my tired eyes. Despite being drained, my brain was spinning a million times.

Frustrated, I sat on the edge of the bed and clenched my teeth to shut my mind off. This supercharged fucking sexual frustration with her was messing up my brain. She’s their friend for fuck’s sake.

My fixation over her had to end now.

An hour later, I was sweating like a pig after I did jumping on the rope and punching a bag—my body gave up and couldn’t take it anymore. After hitting the shower, I finally felt sleepy.

***

The crowd was going crazy tonight and that was what I liked in this evening. I still felt agitated and unable to articulate my thoughts though. I mixed the drinks wrongly twice and I almost dropped the bottle of whiskey on my hand when Dice gripped my shoulder asking for my help to prepare orders. My mind kept coming back to my plan and to Megan. I ignored Dice shooting me a curious look. Then, I noticed Kyland walking toward us.

“Wood, go to the VIP for a while. I’ll take your place. Jim cut his finger.” Kyland immediately got inside the bar and took order before I could refuse. I didn’t know why he was even out here tonight. Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

“Where?”

“Hughes.” The VIP had three lounges named after Hughes, Williams, and Rexwell.

I nodded and got out. I passed by the crowd toward the iron-wrought stairs that lead to the VIP. The room was dimmer than the main bar. It had a long C shaped black leather sofa, black glass table, and two sofa lounges. The minibar had four stools and a glossy deep red wooden counter. It was filled with expensive and vintage drinks according to their preferences.

“Wood,” Pyke called who was leaning on the iron banister. The music was blaring inside since the glass window that served as privacy was slid open.

“Can I get you a drink?” I asked and remained professional even we were friends.

My eyes widened and glued on the crowded dance floor. I cursed silently as a twinge of jealousy speared my chest.

“Take care of her, Wood. She’s not what you think she is if you get to know her.” His warning is almost a whisper that if he didn’t mention my name, I would have thought he was talking to himself. “I’m serious,” he added.

“What are you talking about?” I asked as I watched Megan dancing with a slim guy. With my six foot and three and a half inches height, I could still see his hands on her hips as their body pressed together. My blood boiled in my veins to the way they enjoyed and lost to the music.

“Did you sleep with her?”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business, but I will answer your question no matter how ridiculous it sounds. No.” I rushed out of my words because the last thing I wanted was to let him suspect how I was affected by his words.

I knew I shouldn’t have been silently lusting over his wife’s best friend for years, but I couldn’t just let it go. I couldn’t resist. If I could, I’d done the first time I laid eyes on her. Sometimes, I questioned my feeling if this was just lust or it went beyond that I had not even realized.

“Good to know.”

“Good to know what?” I continued watching Megan and that asshole dancing as if they own the dance floor. Damn it! This was torture.

“Now I know why no woman gets your attention because you, Wood, my friend, is apparently in deep trouble with our Meg.” Pyke laughed boisterously, patting my back in amusement.

My head snapped to Pyke who was still laughing at me. “I think you’re insane, Hughes.”

“Am I now? I’m gonna jump over here if I am lying, man. Wanna bet?”

Guilty, I broke my gaze from Pyke and searched for Kyland instead. When he saw me, I gestured that I needed a break. Kyland nodded his head in agreement. I left Pyke without a word, exited to the narrow hallway to a small exit door that led to the rooftop.

I inhaled the air deeply and closed my eyes while fishing out the pack of cigarettes in my pocket. I remembered months ago when Megan told me that smoking was not good for me. I lit a stick and inhaled the smoke deeply to my lungs to fasten the effect.

I badly needed to calm my nerves. I wondered how did Pyke figure out? I had not told a soul. The iron door squeaked open, making me froze in my place.

“You’re not used to be following advice, are you?”

“I still remember the last time you told me.”

“And?”

“You seemed to enjoy dancing with your little date.”

She chuckled. “Did I sense jealousy?”

“Certainly not. As long as I won’t see you getting hurt again.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She sounded disappointed. Her voice came out a little low.

“He must be waiting for you already. You should go down. It’s not safe for you to be here.”

“I really don’t believe you are this dumb, Forrest.”

“Well, sorry to break it to you, but I am.”

“That’s not true.”

“It seems that you’re okay now.” I shrugged and turned to face her. “I think I’m done with playing guilty.” For a moment, her beauty distracted me. She was gorgeous. Her hair had the same style, but I didn’t think I would get bored looking at it.

Her lips were pressed in a frowned before she spoke. “He’s not my date—”

“You don’t have to explain. I’m glad you’re enjoying your night,” I said as I walked toward the door.

Before I could reach the exit, she extended her hand to block me, making me stopped and gasped at the sudden touch of her palm on my abdomen. Her scorching touch seeped through my skin like liquid

gold.

A shudder wracked me. I cursed under my breath. “Damn it, Megan. Don’t do that again!”

“Tell you what, Forrest. I let this go even I’m a little embarrassed if you answer me the truth.”

I couldn’t say a word. My mind played something worse. All I could think was how good her hand felt on my skin as she let it slowly, painfully, torturously caress the path down below my abs. And it completely conflicted the sensations of pain and pleasure sending straight to my cock.

“Does my touch affect you like your mind forms naughty thoughts about me? Or does this make you cringe, Forrest? Tell me.”

My breathing came out deep and shaky as I turned my head to warn her. “You’re drunk.”

“Am I?” She arched a brow as if challenging me.

I looked at her glinty eyes, and she never broke the gaze. I was worried that an ounce of self-control I had left would fail me.

“Do you like rough, kinky, or vanilla? Or do you prefer long foreplay until a woman begs you to fuck her so hard?” As her hand traveled lower to the band of my jeans, I almost panted in anticipation and I could hardly stand the way she was teasing me. Contrasting to a little decency left in my brain, my cock already thickened, quavered, and I was afraid she would go further down. She would definitely get the answer she was looking for.

She was testing me, and she got the memo that she already got under my skin. I grabbed the back of her head, dove my fingers in her hair, and stared at her for a fraction of moments. Thinking of the pleasure of us kissing at the rooftop became unbearably painful.

Jesus Christ!

My heart went wild in anticipation that I could finally kiss her, but I knew her, she’d be ghosting me once she’d be sober in the morning.

I pressed my lips on her forehead, closed my eyes, and let her go. “Goodnight, Megan.”