Forbidden Cravings
Chapter 94: A Washroom Break

Chapter 94: A Washroom Break

The air carried the savory aroma of sizzling burgers and creamy pasta, mingling with the faint clink of cutlery and the low hum of conversation from nearby tables. We sat in a booth, the pile of shopping bags spilling over the couch beside us

Aeri leaned over her plate of chicken alfredo. Sara, across from us, dug into her Pasta, her energy undimmed despite her earlier complaints of tiredness.

I twirled my fork in my pasta, the creamy sauce clinging to the noodles, and took a bite, savoring the warmth. Aeri glanced at me, her eyes soft, her smile gentle. "You don’t have work today, right?" she asked, cutting a piece of chicken, her voice light but curious.

"Nope, no clients today," I said, smiling back.

The truth was, Jonathan’s silence meant a rare day off, and I was grateful for it after last night’s madness.

Aeri took a sip of water, "And what about yesterday? You slept properly, right?" she asked, her brow furrowing slightly, her maternal concern making my chest tighten with affection—and a flicker of guilt.

"Yeah, I slept peacefully," I said, my smile tensing, a nervous edge creeping in as I kept my eyes on my plate. *Peacefully* was a lie, the memory of the mafia brawl, Raya and Kalina’s moans flashing through my mind. "Hehe.." I sighed internally, the weight of that secret heavy, knowing I could never tell Aeri about the chaos I’d stumbled into. "Just a quiet night," I added, forcing my smile to hold, hoping she wouldn’t press.

She nodded, seeming satisfied, and took another bite, her fork scraping the plate softly.

"How about you?" I asked, shifting the focus, my voice teasing as I shot a side-eye at Sara. "You slept and ate properly? This woman here didn’t trouble your peace, right?" My lips twitched into a smirk, knowing the jab would get under Sara’s skin.

Sara’s fork paused mid-air, a nerve twitching on her forehead, her eyes narrowing at me over her Pasta. She forced a fake smile, her teeth practically gritted, her stockings shifting as she crossed her legs under the table. She didn’t say anything, but the tension in her jaw screamed she wanted to kill me in half.

Aeri laughed, her voice bright, cutting through the moment. "Hehe, I slept peacefully, too," she said, her eyes crinkling as she glanced between us. "And no, Sara sleeps more than I do, so she didn’t trouble me with anything." She nudged Sara’s arm playfully, her sweater brushing Sara’s jacket, her warmth diffusing the spark of our rivalry.

Sara’s fake smile softened slightly, and she took a bite of her Pasta, white sauce smudging the corner of her mouth. "Yeah, I’m a champion sleeper," she said, her voice lighter now, though her eyes still flicked to me with a glint of challenge. "Unlike some people who probably stay up all night sulking because their mommy wasn’t with them."

I rolled my eyes, stabbing a noodle with my fork. "Sure, whatever," I muttered, keeping my tone flat, refusing to take her bait as I chewed, the pasta’s warmth grounding me.

Then, in the next second, Sara pushed back her chair, the legs scraping the floor. "I need to go to the washroom," she said, standing up, her jacket rustling, her boots clicking as she grabbed her phone from the table. "I’ll be back in a few minutes."

"Okay, come fast," Aeri said casually, wiping her mouth with a napkin, her eyes following Sara as she strode toward the restaurant’s exit, her skirt swishing.

I took another bite, the alfredo sauce rich on my tongue, when my phone vibrated in my pocket, a soft buzz against my leg.

I pulled it out, the screen glowing with a new text message—from Sara.

*Come to washroom right now!* it read, the words sharp, demanding, no explanation. My stomach twisted, a nervous *gulp* catching in my throat as I stared at the screen, my mind racing. What did she want now?

"I, uh, have to go to the washroom, too," I said, standing up, my voice a little too quick, my hands shoving my phone back into my pocket.

Aeri looked up, her brow furrowing slightly, but she nodded, her smile soft.

"Alright, don’t take too long," she said, her voice gentle, her fork twirling in her pasta, unaware of the message from Sara.

I nodded, my sneakers scuffing the floor as I walked away, the restaurant’s warm glow fading behind me, I headed for the washroom, my hands in my pockets.

"I wonder what she wants with me," I muttered under my breath, my brow furrowing.

I spotted her near the women’s washroom. She leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, her eyes locking onto me. She waved a hand, her red-painted nails catching the light, her voice cutting through the mall’s hum.

"Ezra, over here!" she called,

I stopped a few feet away, my hands still in my pockets, my expression flat. "What is it?" I asked, my voice low.

Sara didn’t answer. Instead, she grabbed my arm, her grip firm, her boots clicking as she dragged me toward the women’s washroom.

"Come inside," she said, her voice low, urgent, pulling me through the door before I could protest.

The washroom was empty as she tugged me into a cubicle, the door slamming shut behind us, the lock clicking with a sharp snap.

Before I could speak, Sara spun toward me, her hands cupping my cheeks, her fingers warm against my skin. She kissed me hard, her lips crashing against mine, fierce and hungry, her breath hot and fast. One of her legs hooked around my waist, her stocking-clad thigh pressing against me, her skirt riding up as she pulled me closer, her body pinning me against the cubicle wall.

The kiss was relentless, her tongue teasing mine, her nails grazing my jaw, the intensity catching me off guard, my hands frozen at my sides.

"Ughh, fuck..." she exhaled, pulling back just enough to catch her breath, her eyes smoldering, her chest heaving under her jacket.

She stepped back, her boots steady, and sat on the toilet seat, spreading her legs wide, her skirt hiked up, revealing her black panties and the sheer stockings clinging to her thighs. The sight was bold, unapologetic, her confidence electric, her gaze locked on me, daring me to move.

"Kneel..." she commanded, her voice low, sharp, a mix of challenge and desire, her hands resting on her thighs.

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