Forbidden Desires Box Set

by Katy Kaylee

  Malia loved Willow – I could see that a mile away – and I knew that if we were to maybe one day get married – a big maybe – that Malia would love my daughter like her own.

  That was all I wanted for Willow, only know, we'd both get what we deserved.

  Malia

  I quietly opened my bedroom door and peered down the hallway. The house was eerily quiet and I knew that one too-loud and ungraceful step would make a sound that echoed through the large house. I definitely didn't want that.

  I stepped out into the hallway, and quietly made my way to Dillon's bedroom. Sleeping alone in my bed when my boyfriend – god, I loved the fact that he was now officially my boyfriend – was sleeping alone in his, absolutely killed me. It was wrong, although we had decided it would morally be better. Plus I didn't want Willow to get the fright of her life ad possibly scar her for life when she walked in on us having sex. Dillon was quite the adventurous type sexually and the last thing I wanted was to be in a very compromising position when Willow had to walk in on us.

  Not cool.

  Very embarrassing.

  I was also pretty sure that Dillon had not had the sex talk with her, since she was only nine, so I wasn't very keen to do that right now.

  I stopped in front of Dillon's door and slowly opened it a little. I peered inside and smiled when I was him fast asleep in bed. He was on his side, the covers only covering his bottom half. His chest moved up and down as he gently breathed, and I loved the way his hair was messy and wayward. It was now just about long enough for me to run my fingers through and mess it up even more. He liked to keep his hair short and neat, given the fat that he owned and managed his own company, but I preferred his hair a little more casual. I guess it made him seem less intimidating, and little younger. His age didn't bother me at all, and personally I thought he looked fucking amazing for his age.

  I entered the room and slowly walked to his bedside. I slowly slipped under the covers and tugged at his shorts. He groaned sleepily, but I didn't let that stop me. He did however turned over onto his back, giving me easier access to him. I pulled his short down and took hold of his cock. I was surprised at how quickly it hardened in my hands, and I kissed the tip of it, gently sucking on it.

  "Oh my god..." His voice was groggy, and he lifted the overs off him.

  I glanced directly at him, the tip of his cock in my mouth and smiled slightly.

  "I thought you didn't want to do anything like this," he said to me.

  "I thought it could be fun," I said with a wink and slowly licked the length of his shaft.

  Dillon let out a low breath, gave me a hand gesture to carry on and threw the covers back over him, and me. He brought his hands under the covers as well and tangled up his fingers in my hair, tightening the grip the harder he became. I sucked harder, slowing my pace, quickening my pace, and his soft moans made this so much more sexy. Also of course the fact the we were doing something totally naughty in the house, with Willow sleeping four doors away.

  Frankly, I didn't care at that moment, as he hardened against my mouth, and he let out a deep groan. The salty taste of him filled my mouth and I knew he was close to coming. I threw the covers off us, gripped his shaft as I moved into a sitting position in front of him and watched his hands grab the sheets. He came, forcefully and powerfully, spewing his pleasure out onto his stomach, with me proudly standing by.

  He glanced at me, satisfaction in his warm brown eyes and I smirked at him.

  "That's not fair," he said breathlessly.

  "What's not fair?" I asked as I wiped the corner of my mouth, letting go of his cock.

  "Do you know how difficult it is to be quiet while you were doing that?" he asked and motioned to his dick.

  "Of course I do," I said coyly, and slid of the edge of the bed. I walked around the bed, bent down and kissed him on the mouth. "Good night," I whispered and made my way to the door.

  "Wait a second," he said and I turned to him.

  "Yes?" I pouted.

  "I'll get you for this," he whispered.

  "You better," I winked and left the room.

  As I made my way back to my room, I giggled to myself, feeling like I was walking on the clouds.

  Later that afternoon, Willow and I were in the grocery store, as I wanted to make a special dinner for the three of us. Willow was helping to pick out the sprinkles she wanted on the cupcakes, when my phone rang.

  A smile immediately formed on my lips when I saw that it was Dillon, but I hoped he wasn't going to want to talk about earlier this morning in his bedroom.

  "Hello," I said with a smile.

  "Is that all you hav to say for yourself?" he asked playfully.

  "I don't know what you mean," I said in an innocent tone.

  "Is that my dad?" Willow asked and I nodded. "Tell him about dinner."

  I nodded again and said, "Listen, Willow and I are at the store picking up a few things. I figured we could have a special dinner tonight."

  "Oh, uhh, well, that's actually the reason why I'm calling," he said. "A few of the guys at the office want to go for a few drinks after work."

  "Oh." That was all I could get out.

  "But if you want me to cancel, then I will."

  I bit my lip and lowered my gaze. I didn't want to be that girlfriend who prohibited him from going for drinks with his colleagues. We have only been dating a short period of time and I didn't want to be the jealous, overbearing and controlling girlfriend already.

  My mother used to tell me when I was younger, the closer you held them, the further and harder away they would pull, and in my experience it was the truth. In most of my short relationships in the past, I had been too needy, too controlling, never allowing my then-boyfriend any space on his own. Of course, those guys made it perfectly clear to me that I was too attached and they weren't looking for something so intense and serious, which of course broke my heart. I had learnt, for the sake of my own sanity that I needed to stop, because I was essentially the one who broke my own heart, becoming too attached too quickly.

  So naturally, I didn't ant to do that again. I couldn't tell him what to do. Sure, I was a little annoyed by this, as we haven't spent a lot of time together due to the craziness at his company and offices, but I decided not to say anything about it. He worked damn hard during the day and was fully entitled to go out with his colleagues.

  I also knew that Dillon wasn't much of a drinker and that it wouldn't be a late night at all.

  "No, don't do that," I said, trying to force a smile. "It's fine."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes, I am."

  "You're not one of those women who says that it's fine when it isn't, are you?"

  He did have a point, though. A lot of women I knew, including my mother, my best friend in high school and most of the women in film and television would say that they were fine when they were in fact not. I didn't understand why people did it, because essentially you're just avoiding something, allowing it to stew and fester, ultimately driving you crazy until you lashed out at any given time.

  "No, it's okay for you to go. We can just have dinner another night," I answered.

  "I'll make it up to you, I promise, okay?" he said.

  "Okay," I answered. "I'll see you later."

  "See you later," he said and the call disconnected.

  I lowered my phone and glanced at Willow, who still hadn't decided on the sprinkles. She turned to me, holding three tubs and cocked her head.

  "He's working late, isn't he?" she asked.

  "Actually no. He and a few of his work colleagues are going on for a few drinks after work," I answered.

  "And you let him go?" Willow asked, clearly perplexed by my decision.

  "Yes. Your dad is a grown man and I am not the boss of him. Although I would have preferred to spend tonight with you two, in the comfort of your house, I can't tell him what to do," I answered. "Besides, I'm not supposed to tell him what to do."

  "My best friend a
t school, Nora, she says that her mother wears the pants in their house. Does that mean she tells her husband what to do?" Willow asked.

  "Yes, in a manner or speaking. Some women are just like that. They like things to go their way, and only their way, and their husbands are just too obedient and weak to stand up from themselves. I could be wrong, but that's normally the way it goes," I shrugged.

  "So, we're not making a special batch of cupcakes for Daddy?" Willow asked.

  "No, but we can still buy the sprinkles."

  Willow sighed and placed the containers back on the shelves. "What's the use?"

  I bit my bottom lip and frowned. I didn't like seeing her like this, and I ran my fingers through her dark ponytail.

  An idea suddenly popped into my head and I smiled at her. "I have a great idea."

  She looked at me wordlessly and waited for me to continue.

  "Why don't we go out for dinner, just the two of us?" I proposed. "We can go anywhere you want."

  "Anywhere?" she asked and her eyes lit up.

  Dinner turned out to be so much fun. We went to a fun little restaurant which had an all-you-can-eat ice cream station and had the best time. We laughed, we told stories and just enjoyed one another's company as we normally would. We even forgot about Dillon for a while. I tried not to check my phone at all, but it was hard not to. I promised myself that I wouldn't send him a text, or call him, because once again, I didn't want to be that girlfriend. He was allowed his freedom, like I was allowed mine – although I was with Willow during her making hours, which I didn't mind. It was still my job, and I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.

  We left the restaurant just after nine and I could see Willow was exhausted from all the fun we had. When we arrived back home, I clearly noticed how she glanced around the house, hoping that her dad would be there, but he wasn't. His car wasn't parked in the driveway and as tempted as I was to call him, I just left it.

  Again, I wasn't his nanny.

  After Willow's bah, I put her to bed, read her a story from her bookshelf and she drifted off to sleep. It felt strange to be the only one awake in the house. Normally Dillon would be there, we'd watch a movie, or talk, or have sex in the pool house, or the sauna for that matter, but I was by myself.

  I put on a romantic comedy, lounged out on the couch, but I didn't even make it twenty minutes in. I was tired too, and frustrated that Dillon hadn't texted me to say how long he was still going to be. I supposed that he didn't have to, but it would have ben nice to know what time he would be home, or if he was okay to drive. All those thoughts seemed to just tire me out, and pretty soon I was passed out on the couch.

  Dillon

  The tequila burnt my throat, and all the way down as I placed the shot-glass on the bar and pulled a face. I wasn't used to drinking tequila, or any had liquor for that matter. I never truly understood wha the fuss was, and hated being drunk. As someone who thrived on being in control all the time it just seemed like not drinking was a better alternative. Plus, hangovers weren't for wimps, and the few that I had encountered in my life were pretty brutal. Being a migraine sufferer probably made it worse, but I literally thought that I was about to die the next morning after drinking too much.

  "What's the matter, Dillon? That tequila too strong for you?" my Public Relations Manager, Geoff laughed.

  "No, not at all. It's just the taste that gets me," I answered, feeling the warmth rise up in my throat like a bad case of heartburn.

  "You get used to it after the tenth one," my Head of Public Relations Department, Walter, snickered, "Another round, barman."

  I glanced down at my watch, narrowing my eyes slightly and sighed. It was after eleven already, and I had definitely not planned on staying out this late, or drinking this much. One more drink, I thought to myself and ordered a bourbon.

  I listened to the men as they started talking about women, and I let myself out of that conversation. I knew it was just locker room talk, but I didn't want any part of it. The topic of women was not a popular one in my opinion, and luckily they all knew this. They didn't try to include me on it either, which I was incredibly thankful for.

  "Shit, Dillon. You're lucky you don't have a ball and chain any longer," Walter sighed.

  "Mine texted me five times already," Geoff added.

  "But that nanny of yours," Walter said and I glanced at him, "she's fucking hot. How do you keep your hands to yourself?"

  "It's called being professional, Walt," I said snidely.

  "Oh, come on, Dillon. Can you tell me, in all honesty, if you had a chance with her, you wouldn't take it?" Geoff asked.

  "No."

  "I don't believe that," Geoff said, shaking his head.

  "Okay, okay. I get it. You think she's too young for you, right?" Walt asked and glanced around him. "What about her then?"

  I glanced over my shoulder and spotted the woman Walt was referring to. Sh was a beautiful woman, sure, but she reminded me too much of Jade, and that was a bullet I definitely wanted to dodge.

  "She's not my type," I muttered, turning my attention back to my drink.

  "Just go talk to her," Geoff said, and this started ganging up against me, cheering me on to try to change my mind. Eventually, I grew tired of their constant nagging and said, "Fine, I'll go talk to her."

  I slid off my bar stool and straightened my shoulders. The room turned a little, and I hadn't realized that I had so much to drink as to cause this shift in the earth's rotation. Or mine.

  I took a few steps towards the brunette, but about halfway towards her, I turned on my heel and headed back to the bar. The guys glanced at me with exasperated glances as I sat down again.

  "I can't," I said to them.

  "What do you mean you can't?" Geoff asked.

  "I mean, I can't. I..."

  Was I seriously going to do this? Was I going to tell them about Malia?

  "You what?" Walt asked.

  I took a breath and shook my head. I ran my fingers through my hair and said, "I've been seeing someone, actually."

  "Really?" Walt asked and I nodded. "Who is she? Do we know her?"

  "No, I doubt that," I answered.

  "So that's why you don't want to go talk to that woman?" one of the members of the law department, and an incredible lawyer, Ted, asked.

  "Yes," I answered and looked at him. "I don't want to mess it up by chatting up a random woman in a bar, where she'll probably slip her number into my jacket pocket, and get her perfume on my shirt, her lipstick on my collar. Then I'd have to please explain whose number it is and the lipstick mark, and I don't have neither the strength, nor the patience to deal with that shit right now or ever. The less shit, the better."

  Geoff scoffed and said, "That's ridiculous, Dillon!"

  I cocked my head at him, and for one split second I was convinced that he thought I was lying.

  "Like that woman would just hand her number over to you willingly," Geoff exclaimed and the other burst out into laughter.

  I wasn't even offended by Geoff's remark, or the others laughing at my expense. I was just happy that the attention was off me. And Malia.

  "I do agree with you on one thing, Dillon," Walt said and raised his glass. "The less shit, the better."

  The others, myself included, raised our glasses and repeated with more vigor and intensity, "The less shit, the better."

  I finished my drink and said good-bye to them, although they were loudly protesting that I should stay for 'one more drink'. Luckily I knew that it never stopped with one more drink, and left the bar.

  The fresh summer air hit me between the eyes like a baseball bat and it actually made me stagger a bit. I walked to my car, even if I knew it was a bad idea to drive in my condition. I climbed inside but when I glanced out of the front window, I realized that this was about to put my life at risk, and I didn't want that. If something had to happen to me, Jade would get custody of Willow, and I was not goin to allow that to happen. Ever.

 
I took my phone out of my pocket and dialed Mike's number. He answered within two rings, as he always did, in his usual deep voice.

  "Mr. Marsh."

  "Mike, I am so sorry to bother you at this hour, but I need your help, I said to him.

  "Is everything okay? Did something happen?"

  "Honestly, everything is so much better than it has been in a long time," I admitted drunkenly.

  There was a small pause and Mike asked, "I don't understand, Mr. Marsh."

  "I had a little too much to drink, and I am in no condition to drive. Would you please come get me? And bring Cole along to drive my car back."

  "Of course, Mr. Marsh. We'll see you in a bit."

  "Thank you, Mike," I said and disconnected the call. I dropped my phone down onto my lap and glanced at it. There were no texts, or even calls from Malia, which I found a little strange. Was she giving me the silent treatment for canceling her dinner plans this evening, even though she insisted she was fine with it? Maybe she was just giving me space to enjoy my evening with the guys, but it did feel a bit unrealistic.

  In my defense, all the women I had dated, especially Jade, were fucking crazy. Possessive as hell, controlling, which was weird, because it seemed like back then I was a really pussy. Maybe I just got older and my bullshit tolerance just lowered significantly.

  This was why things felt right with Malia, she didn't give me bullshit, and she didn't take any bullshit either. We could be honest with each other without hurting each other's feelings, which was nice. I enjoyed being spoken to like I mattered.