Forrest novel Chapter 22

MEGAN

“YOU OKAY?” I jolted to sit, holding my hand against my chest to his worried voice.

I took a deep breath before I fluttered my eyes open. “You scare me.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you heard me coming. You’re staring off into space. Something wrong?”

“Just...thinking,” Shaking my head, I lied.

“I just went out to buy breakfast for us.” He kissed the top of my head. “God, woman, what have you been eating? You don’t even have coffee in your kitchen.” He sat down beside me, placing down a bag of probably bake goods and two cups of coffee on the table. The aroma alone had my stomach grumbled in hunger.

“Had shitty weeks,” I muttered, feeling relief that he came back. I instantly felt the fluttery feeling in my stomach.

“We all were.” He kissed me on my forehead again, then grabbed a cup and offered it to me. “Drink this.”

I took it and faced him. He looked devastatingly handsome with a five o’clock shadow. I’d never seen him so relaxed as he grabbed the bag of pastries. Sleeping with him didn’t mean I owned him, but I couldn’t push it. I had to brag that he was now mine.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked as he peeped the content of the bag.

“How do you know I was looking at you?” I sipped the hot liquid and moaned. “God, how did you know what I like?”

“I can feel you. And I did a wild guess for your coffee.” I didn’t exactly believe with his wild guess because he must be a freaking fortune teller, but I was thrilled that he brought the right coffee for me.

“Thanks.” I sipped again and bit the croissant he offered. “Gonna have mini-orgasm with this.”

Forrest almost smiled, his eyes twinkled. “Don’t say something like that.”

“What? Mini-orgasm? Why not? After what we did last night, you should have gotten used to it already,” I teased, causing him to shake his head in amusement.

“I filled the tank of your car.” He sipped his coffee and grabbed my hand to take a huge bite on my pastry. I thought it was sweet.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It was almost empty. You’ll get into trouble tomorrow.”

Suddenly, I remembered my mom. She sent me a text yesterday, and I hadn’t been able to reply.

“Thanks, I guess. Do you have work tonight?”

“Yes.”

“So, I won’t be able to see you again?”

He snapped his head at me, wearing a frown on his face as he studied me closely. He took a few seconds staring right into my eyes, then devoted longer on my lips. I licked them in anticipation if he ever wanted to kiss me senseless again, I would gladly give in.

“I thought we sorted it out last night,” he said, seemingly confused. Hell, I was confused either by sorted it out.

“I have to go.” He stood up. “Do you need anything?”

“Yeah.” I stood up, tiptoed, and grabbed the back of his head. As if on cue, he leaned down to press his lips on mine. I didn’t let him go just yet, I pressed my body against him, feeling all those hard muscles of his chest and abdomen. I assaulted my tongue, seeking entrance until he groaned and gave me what I wanted. His hands were resting on my hips, and I felt instantly the hardness and bulge in his pants as I ground into him.

“Megan.” He let out a groan into our mouths. He tasted coffee, but what I liked most was the softness and firmness of his lips, the battling of our tongues, the hot breath he let go in relief, and satisfaction the moment I broke the kiss.

“Now you’re free to go.”

I heard him chuckle before pressing his lips on my forehead—I thought it was his thing.

“Walk me out.” He held my hand before we sauntered toward the door. “I’ll call you soon.”

“Okay.”

I stayed at the door as I watched him entered the elevator. Once he was gone, I got inside and closed the door behind me. I leaned against it, rewinding what had just happened between me and Forrest. Surely, we had something, but we had a lot of things we weren’t ready to share. He respected me and didn’t press me to open up about my life, but as much as I wanted to tell him my story, I wanted him to do the same thing as well.

I was dying to know what was behind the clothes and his broodiness? What was he hiding? What was his story? He was rich, I figured that out judging by his penthouse. Did his tattoo has something to do with his past? Did his past has something to do with him being guarded and mysterious?

A knock behind the door startled me. Did Forrest forget something? Excitement fluttered my belly. Only it wasn’t him who was standing in my doorstep.

“Did I just see Forrest leaving your apartment?”

Oh, boy. I’m so screwed!