Page 96 of Forbidden Fruit
Shit. Is he really going to cause a scene? Here? In front of everyone? In front ofAbigail?
I rip myself away. “Sorry, I need the restroom,” I blurt, my voice too high, too rushed.
I don’t wait for Shawn to respond because I know if Calvin takes one more step, this whole night will burn.
The second I’m out of the crowd, I duck away, mask back in place, heels clicking as I speed-walk toward the nearest empty hallway. The air is too thick and too hot. I can’t breathe.
I just need a minute.
Just a goddamn minute to breathe.
Within seconds, I hear footsteps echo down the marble hallway, and when I lift my head, I see him.
He doesn’t speak. Just walks toward me with that unrelenting stare, his jaw clenched tight, fire practically blazing through the eye holes of his mask.
“No,” I whisper, voice trembling. “Just, no. Don’t do this. Not here.”
His response is a low, lethal murmur. “Shut up.”
Then his hand is on my arm. Not hurting, but unyielding.
“Calvin—”
He doesn’t stop. He yanks open the nearest door and drags me inside. An elegant bathroom, too pristine for the storm he brings in with us. Marble counters. Gilded fixtures. The faint scent of roses and expensive soap.
He lets go of my arm, but before I can even breathe, he’s on me.
His mouth claims mine, greedily. Lips, teeth, tongue, all of him demanding everything. He kisses like he’s starving, like he’s trying to consume every thought I’ve ever had that didn’t include him. And God help me, I respond.
Sound spills out of me. Soft, needy sounds only he’s ever pulled from me. It takes me longer than I want to admit to find my head, to remember who we are, what this is.
I push at his chest. Pointless. He’s a wall.
“Calv…”
His grip tightens.
“I thought I told you to shut up,” he growls.
“I can’t do this anymore,” I choke out, the truth ripping out of me. “You’re engaged to my sister.”
His eyes flash. “Is that why you had him all over you? Because I’m engaged to your sister?”
I open my mouth, something bitter and biting on the tip of my tongue, but he doesn’t give me the chance.
He spins me around and yanks me back against him. I gasp. He’s hard, furious, pressed against my lower back like a brand.
He brushes my hair aside, his lips at my neck, kissing, licking, biting just hard enough that I know there’ll be bruises. Proof.
I moan despite myself, rocking back into him. I hate this. I hate him. I hate how my body betrays me every single time.
But when Calvin touches me like this, I forget everything, even the reasons I should walk away.
I turn my head just enough for him to crash his mouth against mine punishingly. Our teeth clash, lips bruise. There’s no space between us, just heat and fury and history.
He breaks the kiss only to bend me over, pressing me hardagainst the wall. My hands shoot out to brace myself as I let him do what he wants, what we want. One hand slides up my bare thigh, pushing my dress higher until it’s bunched around my hips.
He groans, low and guttural, a sound that shoots straight to my core.
