Forbidden Heat:Between Friends Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Leo's POV

I walked further into the room and froze.

Cici was there, but she wasn't making coffee. She was on her yoga mat, in the middle of a stretch.

"Oh, hey Leo!" she chirped, looking up upside down. She was in a downward dog position.

"Sid got called away for some family drama," she said casually. "Looks like you're stuck with me."

She stood up and walked towards me. She was wearing nothing but an oversized white T-shirt. That was it. No yoga pants. No leggings.

As she walked, the shirt swished around her thighs. It was agonizing. Every step hinted at what was underneath, but revealed nothing.

"Make yourself at home," she smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I was just about to cut some fruit. Want some?"

"Sure," I managed to choke out.

She turned and headed for the kitchenette counter. The way she moved... it was fluid, predatory......

I plopped down on the leather couch, trying to calm my heart that was racing a mile a minute—but hell, it was no use.

The AC was cranking in the loft, but I was already sweating through my graphic tee.​

Cici was standing with her back to me at the kitchen counter, and when she bent over to slice the watermelon? That oversized white tee of Sid's rode up so high I could've sworn she was doing it on purpose.​

I caught a glimpse—something dark peeking out from between her thighs, pale enough to blind you. Black panties? Or… shit, was she going commando? My mind started racing; Sid's wife, walking around his studio with nothing underneath? That's the kind of chaos I should've run from, but my eyes were glued to her.​

She turned around with a plate piled high with juicy red watermelon slices, strutting straight for the coffee table right in front of my knees. And instead of just setting the plate down like a normal person? She leaned way over, her hips popping back just a little—like she knew exactly what I'd see.​

Gravity did the rest.​

That loose neckline gaped wide open, and since I was sitting lower, my line of sight went straight down her shirt. No bra, just those full, heavy tits bouncing a little as she moved, her pink nipples hard as rocks from the AC, rubbing against the scratchy cotton.​

My dick popped up so fast it practically smacked my zipper. The jeans I'd thrown on that morning suddenly felt tight as a vice, squeezing so bad I had to shift my hips to hide the bulge. Dude, I was supposed to be Sid's best friend—his bro since college. But here I was, staring at his wife's tits like a total creep, my body betraying me faster than a cheap lawnmower in summer.​

"Want a slice?" She grinned, setting the plate down slow, like she was savoring my discomfort. Her voice was all sweet, but her eyes? They were glinting like she knew exactly what was going on in my pants. ''Fresh from the fridge—ice cold. Perfect for beating this heat.''

I nodded, too busy swallowing to trust my voice. She plucked a slice off the plate and held it out to me, her fingers brushing mine when I took it. The watermelon was crisp and sweet, but all I could taste was the tension in the air—thick enough to cut with a knife. I took a bite, juice dripping down my chin, and she laughed that little laugh that made my skin prickle.​

"Slow down there, cowboy," she teased, swiping the juice off my chin with her thumb. Her touch was warm, lingering just a second too long. "Ain't no rush. Sid's not gonna be back for hours."​

Hours. Shit. That meant hours of her walking around in that tee, bending over, grinning at me like she owned the place. And judging by the way my dick was throbbing against my jeans? I was so fucked.