Chapter 14

Chapter

Fourteen

brOOKLYNN

Forrest stares at me, his eyes wide, and then he grunts before he spins around on his heels and walks out of the salon. He doesn't go far. I watch as he stops right by the front window on the sidewalk.

He digs his phone out of his back pocket, then his head tips down, and I assume he starts researching what I've said.

My client is absolutely loving the drama.

This is the one person I would rather not have this happen in front of. But fuck it. At this point, I'm the villain no matter what is happening, so I may as well be in front of her so she can tell everyone in town.

Thankfully, she stays quiet while I finish her hair. I don't know if it's the vibes I'm putting off or what, but I can tell she feels bad about the situation. She thanks me for her hair and compliments it—which she never does—and then she leaves me a tip, which is also something she never does.

I almost wish my life would be a freaking disaster more often when she's sitting in my chair because it was really nice not being criticized and actually getting a tip from her. But then I would have to have something traumatic happen to me every six weeks, and that sounds like a cortisol nightmare.

When she leaves, Forrest must realize she's gone because before I can even put my curling wand away, he's standing in front of me. "Can we talk in the back?"

I slide my tongue across my bottom lip. Reaching for my drink, I grasp it and jerk my chin before I turn toward the back room. I'm sure everyone is going to have their ears to the door to listen, considering this situation is all anyone has been able to talk about all afternoon.

If I could go home and hide beneath my sheets, I would do that right this second. But part of being an adult and a business owner is being at work when you have to be. And it sucks, big butthole.

"I had no idea this was going on," Forrest announces after he closes the door behind us.

My eyes scan the room, and I know I've been in here a million times, but it feels different. Maybe it's because Forrest is here, and his massive body takes up the space in a way that none of us girls ever have. Maybe it's because I feel like a different person right now.

All this stuff with Kiki makes me sick to my stomach, not because she is lying but because of the reaction of other people. And that reaction is ugly. I've never been hated before, not like this, but these people, these strangers, hate me.

"I don't know how to make it stop. My phone has been blowing up like crazy. If I call Kiki, I'm not sure it would fix anything."

Crossing my arms over my chest, I lift my chin slightly and look down my nose at him. "Your mother, her mother, and she have truly fucked us. I don't have a social media presence. Yours is only hockey. There's nothing to fix. She's cast the die, and I don't think there's any fixing, Forrest."

Tears well in my eyes at the thought. I'm going to close everything down. My booth, social media, everything. I know I am because these people aren't going to let it go. They think I'm the other woman. They think I'm a whore and a bitch. I'm a slut who deserves to die. All those things that have been written about me.

"Fuck them, then, Brooklynn. Marry me."

I blink, so the tears that have welled in my eyes are now falling. Before I can say another word, he moves toward me, cupping my cheeks with his palms. His eyes search mine right before he speaks.

"I can't give you the world, honey. I may not ever get my inheritance. My lawyer said I'm well and truly fucked. But I can give you me, and I can make it known that you aren't the other woman."

"No," I rasp.

His hands drop from my face, and he takes a step backward. He appears dejected, but I know he isn't. Forrest isn't impulsive. Even though he spent all his money, he isn't impulsive in something this big.

Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around his wrist and squeeze it gently. "No, but not because you're not the man of my dreams, because you are. You aren't asking me because it's what you want to do. You're asking me in some sort of effort to fix what that bitch did, and it's not yours to fix."

"But I don't want anything to hurt you, Brooklynn. And I can tell it hurts. I'd die before I let anything touch you."

My lips curve up into a small smile, and I close the short distance between us. I cup his cheeks and gaze at his beautiful face. It almost hurts to look at him. No wonder Kiki wants to keep him. I would fight tooth and nail to keep him right here with me.

"You wouldn't hurt me, Forrest. And you can't control other people. That was my last client for the night. Let's go home."

"Home," he murmurs, as if he's testing the word on his tongue.

"Yes, home."

FORREST

Desperation should not feel this good. But that's exactly what this is. Brooklynn rides me hard and fast, her breathing coming out in short pants as she grinds her clit against my pelvis, searching for her release.

I cup her swaying breasts, sliding the pads of my thumbs across her hardened nipples. Her nails score my chest as her head falls back between her shoulders. Fuck me, but she feels and looks amazing riding my cock.

"Faster, honey," I grind out.

She hums but doesn't move faster.

Releasing one of her tits, I slip my hand between her thighs, my thumb finding purchase on her clit. Drawing firm circles against her, I watch as her entire body breaks out in goose bumps, then she lifts her head, and her eyes pop open to look down at me.

"Faster," I demand.

Pressing firmly against her clit with my thumb, I move it in circles, watching her. Waiting for her to come. Because I know she's going to, soon. I can feel it. Her pussy flutters around me.

My eyelids slide closed at the sensation. She's so fucking sexy right now. And so close to squeezing my dick and forcing my own orgasm. My control is slipping. It's on the edge and about to fall over. She needs to go first. She needs to come before I blow my load.

Thankfully, I don't have to tell her to fuck me faster again because she does exactly what I want. Her body jerks, bucks, and rolls above me. My thumb stays firm against her clit, and then it happens.

I can feel her thighs tremble, and then she lifts her hands from my chest and cups her tits. She squeezes the flesh, then gasps. She comes. Her pussy squeezing the fuck out of me. I come almost instantly. My balls tingle, my muscles frozen as I stare at her face.

Brooklynn's lips curve up into a smile as she tips her head and looks down at me. I grip her waist, and she gently folds against my chest, her lips touching mine before she shifts and nuzzles into my neck.

Wrapping my arms around her, I squeeze her, then release her as a heavy sigh escapes my lips. We need to talk about this shit. And it's the last thing I want to do, but this is fucking ridiculous.

"We need to talk about Kiki," I murmur.

She lifts her head, and her eyes find mine. She tries to move off me, but my fingers squeeze her waist and hold her down on my length. I'm softening, but I know it wouldn't take me much to get ready again.

"I don't want to talk about Kiki," Brooklynn grumbles.

Smiling, I release one of my hands from her waist and lift it to her face, tucking some hair behind her ear as my gaze searches hers. I can tell she really doesn't want to have this conversation, but it needs to happen.

"We also need to discuss my finances because I'm not getting any money. My parents control my trust fund. They can decide if I get the money or not. It's completely and totally up to their discretion, which means, as of right now, I have nothing."

Brooklynn's gaze searches mine, and then she clears her throat before she shakes her head once. "None of these things matter to me, Forrest. They're also completely out of our control."

"But Kiki being a bitch isn't that," I snap.

She laughs softly. Thank fuck she isn't pissed, but I don't understand why she's not. I'm livid about the whole thing. This is beyond high school drama. I've never even been on a date with that bitch. I cannot imagine why she would pull this shit.

Unless…

Fuck.

Reaching for my phone, I find my mother's number and touch the call button. Brooklynn tries to climb off me, but I shake my head once. If I have to deal with my mother on the phone, I need my woman's pussy wrapped around me—everywhere.

"Forrest, darling," my mother sings as her greeting.

"Want to tell me why Kiki is spewing shit all over the internet about me and Brooklynn?"