Forbidden Heat

Chapter 1: Simmering Tension

The Isaia house buzzed with the chaotic energy of a sleepover. Kirianna Asiata stepped through the front door, her heart doing a little flip as her eyes landed on Jerome Isaia sprawled on the couch. His rugby shorts clung to his muscular thighs, and a lazy smirk played on his lips as he caught her gaze. Damn, he looked good—too good. A rush of heat surged through her, a raw, undeniable horniness that made her clench her thighs together.

'Hey, Kiri,' Jerome drawled, his voice smooth as honey, though his eyes betrayed the storm brewing beneath. He shifted, trying to hide the bulge in his shorts, but Kirianna’s sharp gaze didn’t miss a thing. He was hard as hell, and the thought made her lips twitch into a sly grin.

'Hey yourself, Jerome. Tryin’ to act all casual while you’re pitching a tent over there?' she teased, her tone biting but playful, her Samoan accent wrapping around each word like a caress.

Jerome chuckled, low and dangerous, his dark eyes locking onto hers. 'Careful, girl. Keep talkin’ like that, and I might just show you what’s under these shorts.'

Her pulse spiked, but she rolled her eyes, brushing past him with a sway in her hips. 'Dream on, Isaia. I’m here for Zaneta, not your ego.' But as she climbed the stairs, her body betrayed her, a tingling heat pooling between her legs.

Upstairs, she greeted Zaneta and the girls—Anya, Charity, and Manea—with hugs and laughter, but her mind kept drifting to Jerome. When he appeared at the door to call them for dinner, his presence filled the room like a storm cloud. The others had slipped over to Xavier’s room, leaving Kirianna alone on Zaneta’s bed, her legs crossed, trying to play it cool.

'Where’s everyone at?' Jerome asked, his voice a low rumble as he stepped inside, closing the door just a fraction too much.

'Xavier’s room,' she replied, her eyes flicking up to meet his. She saw it then—the hunger in his gaze, the way his rugby shorts strained against his obvious arousal. Her breath hitched, but she kept her chin up, refusing to let him see her falter. 'You gonna stand there starin’, or you got somethin’ to say?'

Jerome smirked, dropping onto the bed beside her, close enough that their thighs brushed. 'Oh, I got plenty to say, Kiri. But I think you already know what I’m thinkin’.' His voice dipped, a challenge in every word.

She arched a brow, her heart pounding but her tone sharp. 'Don’t play games, Jerome. I ain’t one of your little fangirls.'

He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. 'Good. I don’t want a fangirl. I want you.'

Before she could snap back, Akii’s voice bellowed from downstairs, calling everyone to eat. Kirianna stood, but Jerome’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back against him. His hard chest pressed into her back, and she felt the heat of him through her thin tee. 'We ain’t done, Kiri,' he whispered, his lips brushing her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

She yanked free, shooting him a glare over her shoulder, though her body screamed for more. 'Keep dreamin’, big boy. Let’s eat.'

Dinner was torture. Jerome sat across from her, his eyes burning into hers, not giving a damn that his family surrounded them. She could see the outline of his cock through his shorts, hard and unapologetic, and it made her squirm in her seat, her pussy aching with a need she refused to admit. Every smirk he threw her way was a dare, and she met each one with a defiant tilt of her chin.

After dinner, the girls retreated to Zaneta’s room, but there wasn’t enough space. Zaneta, with an apologetic shrug, told Kirianna she’d have to bunk with Jerome. Her stomach flipped, a mix of dread and wicked anticipation. Dressed in a tight white tee and rugby shorts, she knocked on Jerome’s door, her breath catching as she stepped inside.

He was fresh from the shower, a towel slung low around his waist, droplets of water sliding down his chiseled Cook Islander frame. The sight of him—broad shoulders, taut abs, and that damn towel barely holding on—made her wet instantly, her body betraying her resolve.

'I’ll... I’ll step out so you can change,' she muttered, turning for the door, but Jerome’s hand caught her arm, spinning her around and pinning her against the wall. His taller frame loomed over her mid-height one, his eyes dark with lust.

'Nah, you ain’t goin’ nowhere,' he growled, his voice thick with want. He tilted his head, crashing his lips against hers in a kiss that was all heat and hunger. Kirianna kissed back just as fiercely, her hands gripping his shoulders, refusing to be anything less than his equal in this.

His hand slid down, slipping into her rugby shorts, fingers brushing her clit. 'Fuck, Kiri, you’re so wet already,' he murmured against her lips, his tone dripping with satisfaction. 'I love it.'

She bit back a moan, her nails digging into his skin. 'Don’t get cocky, Jerome. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.'

He grinned, a wicked edge to it, and started fingering her, fast and relentless, until her legs trembled and her breath came in sharp pants. She was close—so damn close—and as she teetered on the edge, Jerome’s lips found her neck, trailing down to her tits, pushing her over into a shattering climax that had her whispering his name like a prayer.

But they were far from done. The night was just beginning, and Kirianna knew she was in for a ride she’d never forget.