Forbidden Fruit

by Eden Bradley

  “So, talk to me, Mia Rose.”

  “About what?” She took a sip of the coollsangria, letting it mix with the spicy burn on her tongue.

  “About yourself.”

  “Haven’t we already done that?”

  “I’m pretty sure we’ve barely scratched the surface.”

  “I’d rather you tell me about your life. What was it like in New Orleans with your dad?”

  “Ah, New Orleans is a magicallplace. It’s like no other city in the world. It’s steamy and dark and a little sad, even at Mardi Gras. But it’s also colorfulland beautiful. And being there with my dad was always exciting. As I said, he’s a jazz musician, and his friends are all musicians and artists. The most fascinating people.”

  The waitress came back and set platters on the small table, crowding their plates; meat and vegetable dishes, sending scented steam wafting into the air.

  “This is alubias verdes con ajo, ” Jagger told her.

  “Basically green beans with a lot of garlic. And this is some chorizo, just sausage and peppers. It’s spicy, so you have to drink plenty of wine.”

  “Are you sure you don’t have an ulterior motive?” Mia asked, laughing.

  “Would you mind too much if I did?” He grinned at her and she couldn’t seem to argue with him, despite the alarm bells going off in her head. “Ah, here’s our patatas a la importancia. You’ll love these potatoes. They’re fried. You’re not one of those women who’s always on a diet, are you? No, never mind, I don’t think you are. You’re more of a sensualist, like me.”

  “Jagger, I’ll explode if I eat all of this.”

  “You have to try a little of everything, at least.”

  She shook her head while he spooned food onto her plate. “You were going to tell me about your father.”

  “Ah, well, he’s an amazing musician. Plays sax and piano, mostly, but he can play a little percussion, too.

  He’s a good man. He used to take me around to the clubs when he had a gig when I stayed with him in the summers, sometimes a few nights a week. I’d hang around backstage, or out in front if one of his friends was there to sit with me at a table. I remember that smell of cigarette smoke and beer, mixed with a little perfume.” Jagger took a bite of the potatoes, chewed for a moment. “And the women.

  There were always women around. That’s where the perfume came from, I guess. But I learned to appreciate a beautifullwoman. Dad was always a killer with the ladies. Still is.”

  “That’s where you get it from, I suppose.”

  Jagger’s features tensed, went a little dark. What had she said? But just as quickly his expression cleared. He picked up his sangria, drank, smiled at her, if a little tightly. “I guess so.”

  “And your mother? You told me she was an artist.”

  “Yeah, she’s still here, in Berkeley. Still painting. She travels a lot, has friends all over Europe. She’s there right now.”

  “No siblings?”

  “Dad had two daughters after he and my mom split up, but they’re kind of spread around. Serena is in Miami, Celia’s in New York. I don’t really know them.

  Their choice. What about you?”

  “No. I’m an only child. I always wanted a sister. When I was really young, I used to pretend that I had one, in the way small children imagine things. It would have been nice, especially now, with my grandmother gone.”

  He reached out and curled his fingers around hers.

  “Sorry, Mia Rose.”

  She shrugged. “It’s okay.”

  He looked at her for severallmoments, his gray eyes dark, unreadable. Then he lifted her hand to his lips, brushed them over the back of her fingers. A warm chill ran through her. She wasn’t sure what it meant: that look, him kissing her hand so gently. But it seemed to mean something. Or was she reading too much into it? She had no sense of objectivity where he was concerned.

  The waitress stepped up to their table and cleared the platters away, refilled their glasses. They drank quietly for a few minutes, lingered over the rest of their meal, talked of inconsequentiallthings.

  “Why don’t we walk some of this food off?” Jagger suggested.

  He stood, held her chair for her, and they went out into the coollnight air.

  “That was an amazing meal, Jagger. Thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure. I have dessert back at my place.”

  “Oh, I don’t…I don’t think I should.”

  “You’ll be ready for something sweet by the time we get there. Or we can sit and have some more wine first.”

  “No, I don’t mean…Jagger, I shouldn’t go back to your place. I don’t think it’s a good idea. I need to figure some things out before I…” She trailed off, too unsure of what she needed to say, what she needed to do.

  “It’s alright. I understand. I’ll walk you to your car, then.”

  She nodded, half gratefullhe hadn’t argued the point with her and half wishing he had.

  God, you really are a mess.

  They moved down the street, the night air coollon her face, but Jagger’s presence was warm next to her.

  As they walked, he took her hand, just a gentle twining of fingers around hers. It felt good. Better than it should have, and the sensation wasn’t entirely sexual. It was more, a different kind of heat that moved through her chest, loosened her up inside.

  Opened her up.

  They reached her car, a silver Mini Cooper, parked only a few doors down from Jagger’s building, a little too quickly.

  “This is me.” She tried to drop his hand, but he held on.

  “Come upstairs with me, Mia Rose,” Jagger said softly.

  She wanted to. Every cell in her body wanted nothing more than to go upstairs with him, to let him kiss her again, touch her. She blew out a long breath, leaned again, touch her. She blew out a long breath, leaned back against the passenger door of her car.

  “I can’t, Jagger.”

  “Alright. But I’m not going to let you go without kissing you.”

  He leaned in, and she found herself lifting her face to his, her mind emptying even before his mouth met hers. Then it was just the cool, plush texture of his lips on hers, that soft press of flesh upon flesh. Her hands went around his neck, his skin so hot and smooth there, and he moved in closer, leaning in to her, the weight of his body pressing her into the car.

  When his tongue moved her lips apart, he slid inside. She went soft and loose all over, her breasts aching for more than the hard press of his chest against hers, with the layers of sweater between them.

  In moments she was panting, wet. And he deepened the kiss, the heat of his mouth making her crazy. She wanted him. Wanted him to fuck her. Right there.

  Right now.

  His hips were hard up against hers, and that solid ridge of flesh pushed against her belly.

  God.

  Her hips tilted, her sex filled, throbbed, wanting, wanting. But she wasn’t supposed to be doing this.

  She was not supposed to be doing this.

  He kissed her harder, wet and hurting, bruising her lips. His hands gripped her waist, his fingers biting into her, and all she wanted was more. God, she could almost come if he only kissed her long enough, just kissed her like this.

  He pulled back, brushed her hair with his lips, with his cheek. He was breathing as hard as she was. He still had her up against the car, his body pressing her against the cold steel. His hands slid down over her hips, dug in again. She couldn’t have moved even if he hadn’t been holding her so tightly. She could barely breathe. She didn’t want to.

  “Jagger…”

  “Fuck. I’m sorry, Mia Rose.”

  “No. That’s not it.”

  “What, then?” He looked down at her, his eyes glittering in the silvery light of the streetlamp a few feet away.

  The words came out on a half-whisper.

  “I don’t want you to stop.”

  Karalee stood at the front of Gideon’s car, leaning against the hood.
It was a 1968 Mustang. Black and sleek. Fully restored. Not what she might have expected him to drive. No, he was more the BMW

  type. The man was a mystery.

  Even more mysterious as he paced in front of her, his steps echoing in the nearly empty parking structure. The smell of motor oillwas in the air, the faint scent of old exhaust. If she looked beyond him she could see the lights glinting on the tall buildings of the Embarcadero, the stark beauty of the Bay Bridge, the velvet dark of the sky. It was nearly eleven o’clock at night, but she could hear the muffled sounds of traffic moving below. And yet she felt safe here with him, even though she knew full wellwhat he was asking her to do.

  He wasn’t impatient. No, he was pacing off the energy that made his dark eyes glitter, that gave him such a sense of immediacy, of energy. She was shaking just a little. But she’d known instantly what her answer would be. Her entire body had swarmed with lust the moment he’d suggested it. He was the one who insisted she take a moment to think about it.

  “Gideon?”

  “Yes?” He stopped in front of her, stepped closer.

  “Do you have your answer, Karalee?”

  “Yes. I want this.”

  He smiled. “I thought you might.”

  “You knew I wouldn’t say no.”

  He nodded silently, then before she could think anymore he gripped her waist with his big hands and spun her around. She steadied herself, the hood of the car coolland smooth beneath her palms. He didn’t have to ask her to lean over the hood, to spread her legs for him. She simply did it, her body following his lead.

  He moved in close behind her and lifted her narrow black skirt. Heat shuddered through her when she heard him unzip his slacks. She was soaking wet already.

  There was no preamble, which was exactly what she wanted. Just him spreading her pussy lips before sliding inside.

  She moaned as he pressed his cock deep inside her, spreading a little more for him. One last hard thrust and he was buried deep.

  “Fuck, Karalee.”

  “Oh, yes…”

  She pushed back against him, wanting more, wanting all of him. He pulled out, let just the tip of his cock rest inside her, and held himself there, untillpleasure spread through her system like liquid heat, her sex aching with need.

  “Gideon, please…”

  He slammed into her, jarring her, pulled out, then rammed hard into her again. One sharp thrust after another, and she was panting, gasping, as her body thrummed with desire, with the need to come.

  His hand went into her hair, gripping hard, yanking her head up, and that moment of totallcommand made her go weak all over. She would have fallen if not for his arm slipping around her waist, holding her right up against him.

  “Jesus, Gideon. Just fuck me. Do it.”

  His hand moved down, pressed against her clitoris.

  “Oh…”

  He pushed into her again, ground against her mound with his hand. Her climax bore down on her, making her shiver all over, hot, intense. When he pinched her clit hard between his fingers she came apart, whimpering, panting, biting her lip to keep from crying out. Pleasure moved through her, shook her to the core. And still he pumped into her in long, devastating strokes, driving her orgasm on untillshe wasn’t sure she could take it anymore.

  And then he stiffened all over, pausing for one long moment before shoving into her harder than ever with a deep groan.

  “Fuck, Karalee. Need to fuck you. Just fuck you…”

  She collapsed onto the hood of the car, his arm stilltight around her waist. She felt as limp as a rag doll, as entirely helpless. But she felt wonderful.

  He was still inside her, still half hard.

  His hand loosened its grip on her hair, slid down to caress the back of her neck, sending a chill down her spine. And it was only then she realized she hadn’t thought for one moment since he’d bent her over his car that they might be caught, that someone could drive by, see what they were doing. Right now she hardly cared.

  Finally he pulled out of her, tugged her skirt down, turned her around, and pulled her in for a brief kiss.

  “Very good, Karalee.”

  She smiled, feeling dazed, sleepy, yet invigorated at the same time. She could have fucked him again right at that very moment if he’d wanted to.

  The low groan of a motor sent a shiver through the pavement beneath their feet, and a car turned the corner, cruised past them. Gideon smiled down at her, a wicked, crooked grin, and a new wave of pleasure swept through her.

  Oh yes, he was dangerous, this man. But he’d given her a taste for danger. And there would be no turning back.

  chapter seven

  MIA BROKE AWAY FROM JAGGER, HER

  BREATH COMING IN short, sharp pants.

  “Jagger…”

  “Tell me you’re not changing your mind now, Mia Rose,” he groaned, “because I don’t think I can take it.”

  “Jagger, we’re in the middle of the sidewalk.”

  “Yeah. Come on.”

  He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her the few feet to his building, took her inside, keeping their bodies pressed close together. The elevator was open and waiting, and they got in. The door was barely closed before his arms were wrapped around her, his mouth on hers, that wet, sensuallmouth. He opened her lips with his tongue, plunged inside, backing her against the wall while the old elevator creaked upward. She could feellhis erection against her belly again, wanted it, needed it, inside her.

  His hands were in her hair, his tongue delving deeper, his hips pressing into her, seeming to push the pleasure through her in a warm rush.

  The elevator reached the top floor, and he was stillkissing her as he backed them both out and into the hallway. He pulled away long enough to mutter, “Where is my damn key?”

  Then they were pushing through the door and into his apartment, and his mouth came down on hers again.

  His hands were on her, tracing the curves of her body, gentle for a few moments, then kneading her flesh: her shoulders, her waist, her hips. He pushed her back, up against the door with a heavy thud. She didn’t care. All she knew was the hard planes of his body against hers, his hands moving beneath her sweater to cup her breasts through the sheer fabric of her bra as fire raged inside her, making her wet and weak with need.

  When Jagger pulled his mouth from hers it was to draw her sweater over her head, then his own. She saw the smooth contours of his chest for the first time, the rounded muscles of his shoulders, those tattooed armbands really doing something to her.

  Beautiful. And his nipples were dark and dusky, succulent. Her own hardened. She licked her lips.

  He pushed her aching breasts together in his hands, bent his head, and laid soft, moist kisses on the curve of flesh there. She moaned, her body quaking with desire. She could hardly believe she was there with him, that he was touching her in the way she’d fantasized about all too often.

  “Take it off, Jagger. Just take it off.”

  He unsnapped the catch and her bra fell away.

  “Lord, you’re beautiful, Mia Rose. I knew you would be.”

  When he drew one nipple into his mouth, she cried out, desire lancing through her. She buried her hands in his hair, knew the texture of the silky curls as though she had touched him before, held on as he sucked her flesh into his mouth. Her sex went hot, absolutely burning. And her nipples were so damn hard they hurt.

  Again he stopped, this time to draw her jeans down over her legs, leaving her in her damp lace panties while he tore his own jeans off.

  She had one moment to see that he wore dark gray tight-fitting boxer briefs before he sank to his knees before her. With one hand he pressed against her stomach, holding her against the door. With the other he tore the scrap of lace down her legs, spread them apart.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured once more.

  She shivered, watching him look at her, waiting for him to touch her, to kiss her there.

  He moved closer, his breath warm
against her curls.

  But he didn’t touch her. Her sex was so hot, swollen.

  Needing him. A single drop of moisture trickled down the inside of one thigh.

  Finally, he bent and brushed his lips across her mound.

  “Ah! Jagger…”

  So good already, she could hardly stand it. Absolute torture that he didn’t just dive in, take her hard clit into his mouth.

  Oh yes…

  He blew on her skin, and her clitoris swelled impossibly. She moaned, tilted her hips toward him, braced her hands against the smooth wood of the door behind her.

  He used his fingers to open the lips of her sex, and even that gentle pressure was driving her crazy.

  “I’m going to taste you now, Mia Rose,” he said softly.

  “Yes. Oh, please.”

  His mouth came down on her, warm and wet, and she pulled in one gasping breath as pleasure knifed into her body. She was shaking all over the moment his tongue darted out, shook even harder when he licked along her wet slit.

  “God, Jagger.”

  She could come at any moment, but she didn’t want it to be over so soon. Not with him, with this man she’d been wanting as she’d never wanted anyone before.

  He licked her once more, that long stroke of his tongue teasing her swollen flesh. Then again, and again. She’d never been so wet in her life. When he put his fingers inside her, sliding right into her aching heat, she cried out.

  God, so good…

  And then he closed his mouth over her clitoris, drawing it into his mouth. Her fingers scratched against the wood, searching for something to hold on to.

  “Jagger, please. I can’t…oh God…don’t stop.”

  He sucked on that hard nub of flesh, pleasure driving deep into her body. In moments she was on that verge, her hips thrusting into his mouth, his fingers plunging inside her. And he kept sucking, sucking, untillshe exploded in a fury of heat and desire. Her vision blurred, pleasure poured through her, drowning her, untillshe could barely breathe.

  She slid down the door, and Jagger eased her onto the floor. He was kissing her again: her neck, her face. Then his mouth was on hers once more and allshe wanted was him inside her.