Forbidden Heat:Between Friends Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Leo's POV

Her words hung in the air like smoke from a joint—thick, hazy, and impossible to ignore. The AC hummed, but all I could hear was my own blood pounding in my ears. Dude, did she just say what I think she said? This ain't some college hook-up, this is Sid's wife—my boy who bailed me out of that DUI last year, who let me crash on his couch when I lost my apartment. But here she was, standing between my knees, eyes dark as night, and I swear I could feel her heat seeping through my jeans.​

"Cici, c'mon—this ain't right," I grunted, trying to sound firm but failing miserably. My voice cracked like a dry twig, and she laughed—low, throaty, like she thought my protests were cute. "Sid's my best friend. You can't just—"​

"Just what?" She cut me off, leaning in real close, her tits pressing against my knee through that thin tee. I could smell her vanilla lotion mixed with something spicy—maybe that perfume Sid got her for their anniversary. "Just walk around in my husband's shirt? Just let you stare at me like I'm a piece of cake at a bake sale? Or just admit that you've been thinking about this since the day I started coming to the studio?"​

My face went from Texas hot to Arizona desert—scorching, no way to cool down. She wasn't wrong. Since the first time she bent over to pick up a pencil, her tee riding up just enough to show a hint of skin, I'd been fighting these thoughts. But admit it? To her face? That's a one-way ticket to getting my ass kicked.​

"Hell no, I ain't been thinking about it," I lied, but my voice was so weak it sounded like a whisper. She raised an eyebrow, that smirk still plastered on her face, and trailed a finger down my chest—slow, deliberate, like she was drawing a map. My skin prickled under her touch, and my dick throbbed so bad I thought I might pass out.​

"Then why's your pants about to burst, cowboy?" She tapped my crotch lightly, and I jumped—half from shock, half from pleasure. "You can lie to yourself all you want, but your body ain't foolin' nobody. You're hard as a steel beam, and it's 'cause of me."​

I gritted my teeth, embarrassment turning to anger—anger at her for teasing me, anger at myself for letting it get to me. "It's a natural reaction! You're parading around half-naked in a loft in downtown LA—any guy would get turned on!" I snapped, throwing my hands up. "Ain't my fault you wanna walk around commando in Sid's old tee!"​

She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest, and that tee stretched tight over her tits—god, they looked even bigger like that. "Oh, so it's my fault?" She laughed, shaking her head. “Fine. If it's such a burden, then look away. Go stand by the window. Stare at the LA traffic. Do whatever you gotta do to keep your little friend in check."​

I glared at her, but I didn't move. The thought of turning away from her—from that tree, from her bare legs, from the way her eyes sparkled with mischief—was worse than getting stuck in rush hour on the 405. "You're bein' ridiculous," I mumbled.​

"Am I?" She took a step closer, so close that her breath fanned my face. Her voice dropped to a low, dirty purr—so quiet I could barely hear it over the AC. "What if I told you I got a bet for you? You pull it out—right here, right now—and I'll strip down bare. All the way. No more teasin', no more games. You get to see every inch of me."​

My heart slammed against my ribs like a drum. Strip down bare? Every inch? The image flashed in my head—her tee on the floor, her skin glowing in the loft light, those tits, that ass, that little patch of black hair I'd caught a glimpse of earlier—and my mouth went dry. This was wrong. So wrong. Sid would kill me if he found out. We'd built this studio together, dreamt of making it big in the design world, and now I was about to throw it all away for a quick fuck with his wife.​

But then she bit her lower lip—soft, pink, perfect—and trailed a finger down my zipper. "C'mon, Leo. You gonna be a pussy, or you gonna take what you want?" She whispered. "Sid's not comin' back. It's just you and me. No one's gonna know. Unless you're too scared."

Scared? Me? I ain't never been scared of nothin'—except maybe spiders and Sid's mom's meatloaf. But this? This was different. This was a line you don't cross. But when she looked at me like that—eyes dark with desire, lips parted, body practically begging for it—I felt something snap inside me. The guilt, the shame, the fear of getting caught—all of it vanished, replaced by a hunger so strong it hurt.​

"Who said I'm scared?" I growled, grabbing her wrist—gentle, but firm. Her skin was warm under mine, and she smiled, like she knew she'd won. "But you better keep your word. You said you'd strip down—all the way."​

She leaned in, pressing her lips to my ear, and whispered, "Baby, I always keep my word."​

Before I could second-guess myself, I reached for my belt buckle. The metal clinked in the quiet loft, and her breath hitched—just a little, but I heard it. Dude, I was about to pull my dick out in front of my best friend's wife.