Forbidden Fantasies

Chapter One

Abi, where the hell are you?" Savannah's voice rang out through my living room, laced with impatience.

"In here!" I called back, my tone just as lively. She blew into my room like a whirlwind, her presence as vibrant as her striking red hair, which cascaded in curls pinned into a carefree updo. The leopard print dress she wore clung to her curves, showcasing her figure in a way that was both bold and alluring. A pair of black stilettos with signature red bottoms adorned her feet, elevating her height and amplifying her already commanding presence.

"Are you ready to go?" she huffed, glancing me up and down.

"Does it look like I'm ready to go, Sav?" I shot back playfully, still donning my professional black pencil skirt and crisp white blouse from the interview earlier that day—an interview that I'd aced without a doubt. Today marked the beginning of my journey at Figgins Law and Associates (FLA), one of the most prestigious law firms in the city. For a freshly minted law graduate like me, securing a position here felt nothing short of miraculous. It's just part-time and may only make me a glorified intern, but I couldn't contain my excitement.

"If you are, we need to have a serious talk about your wardrobe choices," she teased, an eyebrow arched in mock disapproval. I laughed, rolling my eyes at her as I shuffled into my closet. After a moment of deliberation, I settled on a stunning cobalt blue dress, its bedazzled spaghetti straps glistening under the soft light, and a sweetheart neckline that accentuated just the right curves. I paired it with sparkly, strappy heels before dashing to the bathroom to perfect my hair and makeup.

Once I was ready, I emerged back into the kitchen, where Savannah was perched at the bar, casually munching on a bag of chips.

"Remind me again why I let you have a key to my place," I said, half-amused as I snatched the bag from her hands, stashing it high up in a cupboard.

"Because you love me, duh," she replied, a playful grin stretching across her face.

"Yeah, and only God knows why," I shot back, shaking my head in feigned exasperation.

"Oh, Abi, you know you can't live without me. We've been best friends for as long as we can remember."

"You're right, as usual. Now, can we please go?" I urged, glancing at the clock. Savannah's mother and my own had been inseparable since their college days. Due to a happy coincidence, Savannah was born just ten months after me, leading to our lifelong bond. Even though our paths diverged—her pursuing nursing while I tackled law school—we remained steadfast friends. In truth, she's like the sister I never had, connected to me in spirit rather than blood.

Upon our arrival at the club, Savannah made a beeline for the bar, radiating confidence with every step. As I trailed behind, I noticed the admirative glances directed her way—the kind that followed her wherever she went, as though she was a magnet for attention. Yes, she possessed a captivating allure that drew eyes effortlessly. Me? I couldn't deny that I wasn't the same. It's not that I was unattractive; I just didn't boast the same striking presence. My body, while decent, didn't fit the mold of perfection. I had a little softness around the middle, C-cup breasts, and a backside that was pretty average. But I was at peace with it. Savannah's radiant confidence had a way of spilling over to me, helping me embrace my own self-worth.

"Pick your poison, babycakes." Ugh. That nickname again. Why did she have to call me that?

"Do you really have to call me that?"

"Of course I do."

"Why?"

"Because I know you hate it." I rolled my eyes and turned my attention to the barkeep, who was patiently waiting for my drink order.