by R. S. Elliot
Forbidden Professor
R. S. Elliot
Contents
Join my Exclusive Newsletter
Forbidden Firefighter
Prologue
1. Aly
2. Zach
3. Aly
4. Zach
5. Aly
6. Zach
7. Aly
8. Aly
9. Zach
10. Zach
11. Aly
12. Zach
13. Aly
14. Zach
15. Aly
16. Zach
17. Aly
18. Zach
19. Aly
20. Zach
21. Aly
22. Aly
23. Zach
24. Aly
25. Zach
26. Aly
27. Zach
28. Aly
Epilogue
Join my Exclusive Newsletter
Forbidden Firefighter
Lyndsey
© Copyright 2020 - R. S. Elliot.
All rights reserved.
It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
Join my Exclusive Newsletter
Join my Exclusive Newsletter and grab the FREE Prequel to Beauty and the BOSS.
Click below link to download your FREE book.
Forbidden Firefighter
I am so excited to introduce my new series “Forbidden Fairy Tales”. Each book in this series is a standalone and can be read in any order.
Forbidden Professor is Book 1 in this series and is the story of Aly and Zach
Forbidden Firefighter is Book 2 and is the story of Lyndsey and Hunter. This book is available for Pre-Order at below link
Click here to buy Forbidden Firefighter
Prologue
I wasn’t taking “no” for an answer.
Not anymore.
He’d shut me out one too many times, pretended this meant nothing, when it meant everything to me.
I knew absolutely nothing about how to please men. There never seemed a time in my busy schedule to learn things like that. I had worked multiple jobs since I was old enough to apply for them. Anything to pay off my father’s medical bills, to keep a roof over our heads.
Anything to keep my mother from worrying about the fact that our lives would never be the same again.
My father was gone. And the house would soon be too if I didn’t pull myself together and find a way to make ends meet for the both of us.
Now, it was time for me to take control of my own life. To do something for myself for once.
I deserved it. I deserved to be happy, to fall in love.
To have passionate, mind-blowing sex with a man who drove me wild.
I didn’t want to stay a virgin my whole life. I didn’t even want to wait another day. I knew he was the one for me. From the moment his lips first touched mine, casting a spell over me with a hypnotic haze, no other man would ever do.
His touch awakened sensations and feelings I shoved down into the depths of my soul long ago. Things I thought I could live without all these years.
Until I met him.
My villainous memory recalled every path his hands took, feathering across my breasts, dipping between my thighs, and giving me a pleasure I never even imagined existed.
And his mouth. Good, God. The things his mouth did to the most intimate parts of my body should definitely be illegal.
I wanted more.
I wanted him there, between my thighs, my legs wrapped around him. I wanted to quiver beneath his touch with the same intense ecstasy as before.
Only this time would be different. This time, I would be his completely.
His forever.
It didn’t matter that I was risking everything. The apprenticeship, my degree, my future. It didn’t matter that I was about to throw myself at a man who could quite possibly never return my affections. He could toss me out of his office, remind me how forbidden a relationship like our was.
Because I was not the only one risking everything to be with him.
Still, there was no way I had imagined this whole romance between us. A man did not kiss a woman like that, he didn’t almost make love to her the way he did, and feel absolutely nothing for her in return.
What I lack in powers of seduction, I make up for in sheer determination.
And what I want is the one man who can ruin my career forever.
Chapter One
Aly
“It’s official,” I say, glaring back at my twin in the mirror.
The one wearing the same old uniform from Home Depot and looking just as ridiculous as the day I put it on four years ago. “I hate the color orange.”
It’s unfortunate, really.
I will probably be buried in this hideous orange apron. A testament to the fact that I’ve had to work at least two jobs since I turned seventeen, just to help my mother pay for the medical bills that piled up after my father’s death. A reminder that I will likely continue down this path, now that my dreams of being a groundbreaking therapist have been dashed long before they even took flight.
Here lies Aly McKenzie, my tombstone will read.
She worked. She collapsed. She tried.
I’m being dramatic. I know.
Just because I haven’t heard back about the apprenticeship doesn’t mean I’m out of the running for sure. And even if I don’t advance to the final round, it doesn’t guarantee my future plans of becoming a therapist are over.
Though this traffic-cone-colored offense to the eyes isn’t making me feel any better. If I don’t get that scholarship, this is where I will be next year. The same place as last year, and the year before that. Never moving forward, never progressing.
Trapped in this endless hamster wheel of a lifestyle.
Now, I guess that’s not all fair. I can’t hate something that’s paid for Dad’s medical expenses for the last four years. Something that has seen me through my own fair share of struggles, like putting food in my belly, a roof over my head, and a little something to send to Mom to ease the stress and sadness.
And she always looks so sad lately.
Taking inventory and leading others on a quest through the risky realm of DIY projects may be someone else’s dream, but I have other plans.
Plans that include saving the world, rebuilding communities and dragging overworked people up out of the dark cloud of depression surrounding them. I want to make a difference, serve my community and help my mother out of debt before we lose my childhood home forever.
None of which I can do on a minimum-wage salary and the two years’ worth of graduate-level student loan debt I’ll accrue after this semester is over.
Unless I receive that apprenticeship.
Lyndsey’s heart-shaped face leans into the mirror over my shoulder, drawn to my complaints of an innocent color which has done nothing but alert others of danger. Her wide brown eyes assess my clothing. She cocks her head to the side, already squinting. Probably to reduce the effects of the glare from my apron.
Her pert little nose wrinkles. “I don’t think anyone can pull that look off.”
When Lyndsey presses her face to mine, she is literally crouching down. She’s over a head taller than me with a physique both slim and thick in all the right places. I, on the ot
her hand, look like I was left in the dryer for too long. And don’t get me started on the things people say about short girls with red hair. If I hear one more joke about leprechauns, it’s going to get ugly.
“How about I do your makeup for you?” she says.
“I’m wearing makeup.”
“Oh, honey.” The sweet uplifting glint in my roommate’s face quickly turns to pity. But I can’t hold back the laughter all the same. I don’t need a ton of makeup to go into work. I can barely even afford the basics. Sometimes, it’s the best way to avoid the onslaught of testosterone I encounter each and every day. A female worker in a man’s domain. Yep. I already get my fair share of unwanted flirtations.
“The good news is Prince Charming will definitely spot you from a mile away,” Lyndsey laughs, taking my place in the mirror as I move to collect my things.
“I don’t have time for Prince Charming,” I say. Because I don’t. “Classes start next week, and I already feel completely overloaded.”
“If you don’t get the apprenticeship, can’t you just do something else?”
“Yes, but then I would have to start all over again. Research another direction to take, compile another proposal, search for grants. It’s a mess.”
Not impossible, I remind myself, just to keep myself sane. I have options. It would just require a little more work and time, which I could probably take out of my sleep schedule. I think I’m back up to five hours a night, now. So…I could probably spare some time.
“Plus this will give me a leg up from all the other candidates applying for jobs out there. Who’s going to hire me with no experience whatsoever?”
“You just need to get out of your own head,” Lyndsey says, adding a sway to her shoulders as she speaks. Her smooth, southern accent also gets thicker the more passionate she gets about something. “Try chanting the affirmation I gave you.”
“I don’t need an affirmation.”
“Say it.” Her eyes are tiny daggers piercing through the mirror. I laugh despite the terrifying look she gives me.
“I have everything I need to succeed,” I mumble in my most monotone voice. This is ridiculous. Silly chants like these might work for the daughter of two high-powered attorneys, who really does have everything she needs to succeed. But they don’t apply to someone who’s had to work paycheck-to-paycheck since the age of seventeen.
“That was horrible.”
“Well, let’s hear yours.”
“My affirmation is only one word.” Lyndsey paused to complete one final makeup adjustment, before addressing herself in the mirror. “Queen.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“Of course, that’s how it works. It’s an affirmation!” Lyndsey crossed the distance between us to stand in front of me. “All that matters is that you believe it and feel empowered.”
“Well, maybe I just need a new one.” Something along the lines of, Average is awesome, or You don’t suck as much as you think.
“No, Aly. This one is you.” Lyndsey shook her head, the southern drawl coming on hard. “You’re smart, beautiful and willing to work your ass off to get whatever you want. That’s the trinity of successful traits right there. Now own it!”
I sigh.
What the hell. I have nothing to lose in saying it, I suppose. The silliness I feel shouldn’t matter when it’s only Lyndsey and me in the room anyway. “I have everything I need to succeed.”
“Good. Now again, with more feeling.”
“I have absolutely everything I will ever need to succeed,” I shout, before bursting out into laughter.
Alright. I have to admit, I feel a little bit better. In the least, it helps to know I have a supportive roommate like Lyndsey to keep me going. My phone buzzes in my palm.
One new notification.
I hold my breath. It’s an email from Berkeley.
“What is it?” Lyndsey notes the change in my face.
My heart pounds furiously. I haven’t even opened the email yet. Win or lose, this does not define you. My fingers shake so uncontrollably I can barely press the right section on the touchscreen. The email opens and the cool rush of relief slides down my chest.
“I made it!” I shout, trying to keep myself from jumping up and down.
Lyndsey squeals beside me before throwing her arms around my neck. “I told you! What does it say? What are the next steps?”
“It says they’ll send me more information later on in the week.”
“Good.” Lyndsey claps her hands together excitedly. The bounce in her steps continues as she nearly dances from side to side. I can’t remember a time when I had that much energy. “When you get home from work tonight, we’ll celebrate!”
“I don’t think-”
Lyndsey groans. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to take you anywhere crazy. We can stay in for the night. I’ll order a pizza. Buy a nice bottle of Prosecco.”
“But there’s so much work-”
“Girl, stop!” Her hand flies out to stop me, silencing me like the queen she proclaims herself to be. “If I can cheat on my keto diet for this, then you can take an hour out of your busy life for some girl time.”
I laugh. “Fine. I’ll prepare myself for the nail polish and pillow fight.”
“You better.” Lyndsey buffs her fingernails on her shoulder. “I am the undefeated champ at pillow fighting.”
I check the time. My heart is still fluttering like a caged bird. I want to enjoy this moment, to relish in what little accomplishment I’ve made so far.
I just don’t want to get my hopes up. You know, just in case.
One hour into my shift and the jittery excitement still hasn’t left my fingers. I’m fumbling with the scanning gun, taking inventory of these giant slabs of lumber I would never be able to haul on my own. Not because I’m weak. Just because they’re over twice my height.
It doesn’t matter. This whole shelving unit could collapse on me now, and I’d have died happy. I’ve got my chance at that apprenticeship, and the more I think about it, the more I allow myself to dream.
A dangerous idea, perhaps. I guess Lyndsey has finally started to wear off on me.
The glimmer of movement shifting beside me draws my attention. I turn toward the man now searching the two by fours. The cheesy opener they have us use when greeting a customer lodges itself in my throat.
My God. He’s gorgeous. Sandy brown hair, the shadow of a beard forming on his impossibly straight jawline. Are men like that even legal? A warm flicker of heat blooms in my stomach, kindling like the building flame of a campfire.
Warm, inviting, like home.
It’s him. A voice whispers inside me.
Though nothing about this man feels even remotely familiar. He’s wearing three hundred-dollar shoes and a Burberry jacket. The man doesn’t even look like he belongs in a Home Depot, let alone the poor end of Oakland.
He faces me, and immediately I jerk my head away.
Omigosh! He caught me. He probably thinks I was creepily checking him out.
Well, I am checking him out, but I wasn’t being creepy. Was I?
A lump forms at the base of my throat. I should have at least smiled, or even said, “hi”. It’s not abnormal, right? I’m at work. I could have played it off like I was only doing my job and ask him if he needs help. But no. I just turned away from him like I didn’t want to be bothered with answering questions.
Now, I’m worried about whether he thinks I’m rude. It’s not like I can hide the fact that I work here. What would Lyndsey do?
I’d hike my boobs up and march my fine ass over there.
Yeah. That’s not going to work for me. I should at least say, “hi”. Ask him if he needs any help? I mean, it is my job, so…
“Excuse me.” His voice is right beside me. I jump despite the potential to die from embarrassment.
I face him.
Great. He’s even better up close. With such little distance between us, I note a slim white
scar that cuts through his brow to the side of his face. It’s barely noticeable except for the slight indent in his eyebrow. It adds an air of danger and mystery to his person, and I am instantly enthralled by needing to know more about this man.
“Hi,” is all I can seem to get out, along with a weak smile that barely hides the trembling.
“I was wondering whether you made custom cuttings or not?”
He looks scared. Am I smiling too much?
I take a deep breath. This is why you’re still a virgin.
He’s just a man. An impossibly handsome man with green eyes like jade gemstones, but a man in need of help at the place I work, all the same. All I have to do is suck it up and talk to him.
Besides, bolting down the aisle doesn’t sound any less humiliating.
“Normally, someone from the lumber department would be able to,” I finally say. “But, the main person who operates the machine isn’t here at the moment. I was assigned here as a sort of a last-minute replacement, and I’m not authorized to use the machine. I can put together an order for you, though, and have it ready for you in a day or two.”
“Sounds great.”
I walk him to a small table where the order forms are kept.
My pulse thumps against my throat, a reminder that he’s only a few inches away from me. Six bullet points down the list of orders and several thousand dollars worth of merchandise later, and all I’ve been able to think about is his voice in my ear. Wanting him closer, his hands on my body, pulling me against a chest that looks like it's been chiseled from marble and forged by the ancient gods.
