Forbidden: A Stepbrother Secret Baby Romance Read online

  My voice squeaks as I answer. "No, I haven't,” I gasp.

  He takes his teeth and moves my underwear down my thighs. "Would you like to be?"

  His hot breath is over my clit and I feel like I might come just from the close proximity of his mouth. Paul is eager to ask for head but almost never returns the favor. "Yes,” I whisper.

  "Yes, what?" His blue eyes flash up at me.

  "Yes, please," I moan back at him, my back arching in a desperate attempt to get his mouth on me and over me and inside of me. His tongue...I moan again. "Please, please, please."

  Man Beast actually smiles, moving his rough hands down my arms and to my breasts, cupping them and squeezing them hard as his tongue teases my lower lips. The feeling is so incredible I already feel like I'm going to explode. It's like I'm vibrating down into my toes. My feet start to curl. Man Beast takes his right hand rips my underwear off of my thighs, throwing the panties onto the floor. I look up at the swirling fog through the glass.

  This is so surreal.

  His hands leave my breasts to find my inner thighs. He pushes them apart and back, pinning my knees behind my head. It hurts. It also feels like an aching part of my soul is about to be filled. He turns his attention back to my breasts, taking my nipples and tugging on them.

  It's like there's an electric current connecting my pussy to my tits. I feel wetter than I ever have in my life, trapped in this bed with this strange beast of a man. His tongue goes directly to the little nub of my clit, pushing down on it hard and sending more waves of pleasure through me. I want to come so badly I feel like crying. I reach my arms out to his skin to trace the designs over his back. He has muscles in places I didn't even know muscles existed.

  He starts flicking his tongue back and forth across my mound, finding my clit on every third lick. Then he does something that makes me scream. He flattens his tongue and rubs it down the length of my sex, sticking his tongue inside of me and flicking it back and forth. I feel waves crash over me. My vision is covered in a flash of white light, and my abdomen arches up so high I feel like the back of my head is touching my ass. I'm shaking. It lasts a lifetime, and when I come down, Man Beast is looking at me.

  I try to breathe. He gently pulls my legs down and starts rubbing them. I didn't realize they were numb. Under his strong hands, they start to wake up slowly. After a few minutes, I sit up. "You never asked why I followed you up here," I say quietly. The fog outside is so thick now it's like the walls of the glass box have been painted with a heavy layer of grey paint.

  Man Beast looks up from massaging me. "I know why you followed me. I asked for a thank you and you're here to give it to me." He pulls my hands roughly over to his waistband. I start unbuckling his black leather belt, my fingers caressing the cold, slick steel of the buckle. My hands fumble as I reach the button, clumsily pulling it through the ragged, stitched hole and releasing the zipper.

  I reach up to his athletic-cut boxer-briefs and pull hard to get the fabric over the bulge that is growing with every touch. His cock is so large for a second I wonder if I'm going to be able to get it all into my mouth. I lean forward, lightly licking the tip of it. Man Beast has his hands on my shoulders and I feel a rush of pleasure as I realize that he's digging his fingers harder into my flesh as if he is trying to control himself.

  Suddenly I remember another thing Jillian said. "Condom?" I ask him, moving away from him. He sighs and reaches down into his jeans, procuring one and unwrapping it. He hands it to me and I gently glide it over his cock.

  I can't believe I was nearly that reckless. What is wrong with me? But my body is urging me on. I take as much of him as I can into my wet mouth, slowly licking around the outside and letting the tip of him press into the inside of my cheek. I want to taste his saltiness. My hands run up to his chest. Finally, I get to feel the steely muscle of his chest. It's so hard under my hands it feels like sun-warmed granite.

  He starts thrusting his hips back and forth, and I take my small hand and wrap it around his circumference, pulling up and down in motion with my mouth.

  He pushes me back onto the bed and flips me over, pulling my knees to the edge of the bed. I'm on all fours he spreads my legs and shoves his face back between my legs. The change in direction is exhilarating. He moves his tongue up and down and left and right and licks the rim of my opening so hard I nearly come again. I realize I'm panting. Then I feel a hard, warm tip against me through the thin latex. He enters me so slowly I think I'm going to burst.

  He's so enormous there's a possibility that I actually will. Once fills me up with his girth, his hands find my hanging breasts again, and he rubs and pulls on them in rhythmic motion, timing it with his thrusts. I can hardly breathe, and after only a half-minute, my face is in one of the pillows and I am screaming at the top of my lungs into the fabric. I feel Man Beast shudder behind me and I know that we've finished at the same time.

  I can barely move. He pulls out and disappears from the room. I feel like I could fall asleep in this unreal cocoon for weeks. When Man Beast appears again, naked and mostly flaccid, he has the bottle of whiskey and my iPhone. He tosses the latter onto the bed and some of the former into his mouth. "Text your friend. You're not leaving until tomorrow."

  I try to hold back a smile but fail miserably. Dammit. I don't want him to know how much I'm enjoying this. I tap out an error-riddled message to Jillian saying that she can leave when she needs to. I'm safe. I'm fine. I even use our safe word that we came up with: Concord. Like the plane.

  Jillian texts back only in picture characters: a kiss face, an eggplant, and a creature that looks like a beaver. A second message comes in: a winky face. I try to hold back a schoolgirl giggle as I read it. I roll over and Man Beast is sitting on the bed, one knee pulled up to his chest and one leg draped over onto the floor. He hands me the bottle of whiskey and I take a full gulp of it, coughing through the fiery burn of the liquid.

  The sight of him in the ghostly glow of the fog-dimmed city lights takes my breath away. He is the most gorgeous man I have ever seen.

  And for tonight, he's all mine.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  JAX

  I wake up moaning, the image of me holding a curvy woman like a wheelbarrow, her legs wrapped backwards around my head while I bury my face in her pussy burned into my brain. Wet dreams are the best part of being a guy.

  I roll over, blinking and realizing that it is uncharacteristically sunny in this room. Then I realize there is something warm next to me. A woman.

  Shit.

  She’s the woman I was just dreaming about.

  The sunlight pierces my eyes and bores a hold through my skull. I squint and flail my arm around to the other side of the bed. The clock there reads 10 AM. I hoist my legs over the bed and stand up, my foot hitting something cold and hard. I look down. It's a completely empty bottle of Jack.

  Did I drink the whole thing? I look back at the woman, her luscious curves peeking out from the white, tangled sheets. The fur blanket is in a pile on the floor, and the lamp next to the bed is in shatters on the hardwood. I'll need to tell the maid service not to come up here today. If I replace the lamp before they see it, it'll be cheaper.

  I look back at the bottle. I'm guessing the goddess in my bed drank some too. My brain creaks awake. It's daylight. And she's still here. I feel panic in my stomach. They usually leave by now. Well.

  I usually leave by now; in my wake is always a brief note, a room service breakfast tray and strict instructions to dial the concierge and ask for the cab. I gotta get out of here. Now. Before she wakes up and things become more complicated. I stumble down the stairs. I make it into the downstairs bathroom. The sight of the toilet reminds me that I could throw up. The thought makes me want to.

  How much did I drink last night? I haven't been hammered like this since college. I turn the tap on and splash my face with water, the feeling of nausea mercifully leaving my body. I turn the shower on. I figure I might have a good ten minutes to showe
r, dress, call room service and tell the maids not to bother with the bedroom today before she wakes up. But I can't know for sure.

  I hate complications.

  ***

  "So what we have here is the VC proposal draft that we're sending to Horton and Associates," my assistant, Tony, says to me. "And Andrews called to confirm the twelve-thirty lunch meeting down at the Pier."

  I barely hear him. "Great, Tony, that's great. Christ, we need to get someone in here to install some blinds." The sun is pouring through the windows in my office. The downside to stark, modern spaces with huge walls of windows is the lack of shade. I sigh and close my eyes. San Francisco is supposed to be cloudy.

  "Rough night last night, boss?"

  I exhale. "Yeah, you could fucking say that." I pinch the bridge of my nose and loosen my necktie. I feel like I'm choking underneath the starched collar. "We should probably leave soon if you want to get down there in time. Traffic and all that,” I remind him. I hear a chair squeak. Shit. Tony's sitting down. I know what that means. We were freshman roommates in college and he knows me better than anyone else in the entire world.

  "Spill, Jax," he says, dropping the formalities of our business relationship.

  I sigh. "Can you at least get me some water before you interrogate me?"

  Tony looks at the Apple Watch on his wrist. "You have two minutes to talk. I'll get you water on the way downstairs."

  I exhaled. "I met a woman last night. I saved her from being harassed by three punk college kids."

  Tony nods.

  "And then she followed me upstairs."

  Tony gives me a look that I've seen a thousand times before. "You know, this really isn't a new story to me, Jax. What I'm curious about is how it's possible that you have a hangover."

  "Yeah, it's all a little foggy. But we blew through an entire bottle of Jack Daniels. Not that I remember doing that." I squint, trying to think. All I see are flashes of curvy, glorious body, her protruding nipples and the feel of her breasts underneath my hands. Shit. I need to stop that if I'm going to be forced to stand up in a minute without humiliating myself.

  "Did you leave before she did this morning? You were incredibly late coming in today. I'd hate for you to break your no-contact-once-the-sun-comes-up rule."

  I hesitate.

  "Oh my God, dude."

  "What?"

  "You're pausing. You never pause. That either means you did talk to her this morning or you're seriously considering tracking her down. Who is she? Did you actually get a name this time?" he asks me.

  I shake my head and stand up. "Nah. No names. I didn't talk to her this morning. I got out in time. Breakfast and a taxi as usual."

  Tony smirks. "But not like usual though."

  I put my blazer jacket on. "We're going to be late, Mister Assistant. Did you call an Uber yet?"

  "It's downstairs already." He follows me out of the room and into the elevator. "You going to try to find her?"

  My hesitation betrays me once again. Tony just shakes his head. "She must be some kind of woman for Jax Hadley to be breaking his unbreakable rules."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  TESSA

  Indianapolis is sweltering and oppressive despite the fact that the sun has gone down. The heat wraps around my body and fills my nostrils. I cough a little bit, sweat breaking out across my skin. My head is still pounding from my hangover. The flight back included such joys as a toddler screaming and kicking my seat, a large-framed businessman who kept trying to touch my leg on purpose, and an older woman wearing so much perfume I felt like I was choking.

  Welcome back to reality, Tessa. The flight back felt like a tunnel from the fantasy of the night before and back into real life. I’m already faltering on my promise to Jillian. I’m wanting to go back to Paul. I'd spent part of the flight going through old photos of me and him on my phone. He’s been in my life for so long it's hard to imagine going on without him.

  The taxi back from the airport is slow, expensive, and dizzying. I dread walking into my apartment as the driver finally pulls up to the curb. I hope Paul has actually taken all of his things like he said he would. He only has a drawer.

  Had a drawer. Until we broke it off again.

  My mind flashes to Man Beast caressing my breasts and I feel lost in that weird space between dream and reality. It almost seems like the night before didn't even happen. But it did happen. My sore body is assuring me of that.

  I put the key into the lock and step inside, hauling my rolling suitcase into the foyer. I go to turn the lights on but realize I can already see the inside of my apartment. It's lit up in an orange glow. I blink a few times and realize it's candlelight. On the floor are pathetic handfuls of wilted rose petals.

  I pad into the living room and see that Paul is sitting on the couch in jeans and a slightly ratty t-shirt, asleep with the remote control in his hands. On the table is a bouquet of roses still in their plastic sheath, casually tossed there next to three taper candles that are nearly burned down to stubs. Next to it is a box of pizza, grease spots marking the white cardboard like raindrops. I lift the lid with my index finger and see that three-quarters of it is gone.

  He's trying.

  I walk over and nudge his shoulder. "Paul?" I whisper.

  He awakens with a loud snort. "Huh!" he sits upright, startled. "Oh. Tessa." He rubs his eyes. "What time is it?"

  "Midnight or so."

  "I thought your flight was coming in earlier. I had...I had things ready. For when you got back."

  I sit down on the edge of the sofa, guilt eating into my stomach. "Paul. We broke up."

  Paul's awake now. "I know. I know that we did. I just missed you so much."

  I feel conflict in my heart. This is familiar. It's comfortable. He's trying. I need to tell him the truth about me and Man Beast. "Paul...I -"

  He grabs my hands. "I love you, Tessa. I know I haven't been great, but I feel like I need to try to do better this time. Please. Please."

  Guilt is eating away my stomach. San Francisco was a dream. It won't be hard to pretend like it hadn't really happened; I'm starting to question it myself. And Paul and I were decidedly broken up. There’s no question about that; it’s not like I cheated on him. He doesn’t need to know. Paul kisses me but his cold lips are not even close to the ones I kissed the night before. My body is aching for more. More from Man Beast.

  But Paul is here. I am here. Paul is familiar. Paul is convenient.

  So what if he’s not perfect?

  We fall into my bed together, my brain and my heart telling me two very different things.

  CHAPTER SIX

  JAX

  Lunch is a disaster. Andrews insists on ordering platters of oysters. I sit there, sweating and nauseous from my hangover, ordering endless glasses of water and doing my best to choke them down. He also insists on sitting outside in the glorious weather. My sunglasses feel like they have no tint on them for all the good they do at helping my headache. I know I have a pitch to make. I need the venture capital badly if I’m going to prove to my father that my business is worth anything.

  I'm pretty sure I’m blowing this.

  Andrews is running his mouth and I can’t even be sure that he’s speaking English to me. “…best if we proceed with a small investment to get the ball rolling, you’ll understand.”

  I nod and I’m not even sure of what I’m agreeing to. The oysters churn in my stomach as we sit under the beating sun. I excuse myself to go vomit in the marble-clad bathroom.

  I come home directly from the lunch at Tony's insistence. I have never been this hungover in my life.

  My hotel room is neat as a pin downstairs. I take a long, steaming shower hoping that it might revive me. I change into pajama bottoms and order some toast and applesauce from the restaurant downstairs. My mom always made me hot buttered toast when I was sick. The warm crunch of the crust settles my stomach nicely.

  I wander upstairs into my bedroom and am greeted with the sight of a
n unmade bed and broken lamp. Shit. I still need to clean up. I hit a few buttons to draw the mechanical metal shutters over the glass ceiling and the top half of the walls and get to work picking the sheets up off the floor. I pick up condom wrappers and toss them into the trash can that's hidden underneath the bedside table, then pick up the glass lamp shards as gingerly as I can. Thankfully the lamp broke in large pieces. I set the rest of the base in the trashcan and place the lampshade by the door. I'll have Tony buy another one for me.

  Then I lay down on the soft, fur blanket and shut my eyes. The throbbing in my temples subsides, and I start to drift off to sleep almost immediately.

  In my dreams I'm wandering the hallways of my office in a suit that is too small for me and I can't find my desk. Then suddenly I'm naked and standing in my bedroom that is now an all-white box with only a bare mattress in the middle. I walk over to it. There are objects on it, all tagged with black and yellow markers like they do on crime scene investigation shows. The lamp shards are in a plastic bag. The fur blanket, top and bottom sheets are folded and marked separately. The empty bottle of Jack is there as well. Then I see them.

  The condom wrappers.

  Two of them. Only two of them.

  I wake up from the dream in a cold sweat. My bedroom is now completely dark; I've slept for hours. I stand up and look under the rug, under the bed, under the attached tables. I nearly flip it over in a panicked rage.

  Two condoms.

  There is no way we only had sex twice.

  But we only used two condoms.

  Fuck.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TESSA

  EIGHT MONTHS LATER

  "I'm coming, give me a damn minute!" I yell through the door of the bathroom. I pull off a few squares of toilet paper and dab my eyes.