Forbidden Love
Copyright © 2014 S.R. Watson
First Edition: November 2014
Second Edition: April 2016
Third Edition: September 2018
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction. The publication of these trademarks is not associated with or sponsored by the trademark owner.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the express written permission of the author.
Cover Art : Sommer Stein of Perfect Pear Creative Covers
Cover Model: Heather Coker, www.facebook.com/heather.coker.3
Editor: Vanessa Bridges of PREMA Romance
Formatter: Stacey Blake of Champagne Formats
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Title Page
Copyright
Other Books
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Forbidden Love Playlist
Acknowledgement
About the Author
Other Books
S.I.N. Rock Star Trilogy
Sex in Numbers, Book 1 (Available Now)
Creed of Redemption, Book 2 (Available Now)
Leave it All Behind, Book 3 (Available Now)
The Playboy’s Lair Series
Silas: A Playboy’s Lair Novel—Part One (Available Now)
Forbidden Trilogy
Forbidden Attraction, Book 1 (Available Now)
Forbidden Love, Book 2 (Available Now)
Unforbidden, Book 3 (Coming October 1st, 2018)
Stand Alone
The Object of His Desire (Available Now)
Peppermint Mocha Love: A Christmas Novella (written as S. Renee’ … co-authored with R.L. Harmon) (Available Now)
To my mother, Clara Brown, who started it all. She put the first book in my hand and inspired my love for reading. This love evolved into a desire to write and share my own stories.
My mother taught me about the power of inspiration and courage, and she did it with a strength and a passion that I wish could be bottled.
~ Carly Fiorina
I lay here literally and metaphorically broken, listening to my mom give Liam shit in the living room. He is here to visit again like he does every day. My mom tells him to limit his visit to an hour because I need my rest. Yeah right. That’s all I’ve been doing is fucking resting. Jordan is away on some family retreat over winter break so my visitors are limited. I had plenty of family and old friends come by when I first came home, but people have since returned to the normalcy of their own lives. Without Liam, I would be going stir crazy. My mom still hasn’t forgiven him for cheating and breaking my heart, but we’re trying to work on our friendship. Neither Liam nor my mom, know about Grayson or our failed relationship; if you can call it that. I was his fuck buddy that he grew bored with. They don’t know about my stalker either. They would go ape shit and go into overprotective mode. I did call Officer Richards last week to tell him the truth about the phone calls. They’re looking into it. I haven’t had any anonymous calls since I got home so for now, I’m trying not to think about it. Liam comes in carrying pupusas in a Styrofoam container. He introduced me to this Salvadoran goodness earlier this week. They are tortillas filled with cheese, pork, and refried beans. I love them.
“Hurry and give them to me,” I demand jokingly. I reach for them, but he moves the container out of my reach before I can grab it.
“Nope. What do you say?” He taunts.
“Please. Now give them to me before I hurt you.” I give him a megawatt smile that is supposed to convey that I’m plotting my vengeance.
“You couldn’t leave it at please,” he jokes. “Hurt me? I’m so scared. You can barely get out of bed. Besides who do you think will bring you more of these hot commodities if you hurt me?” He has a point.
“Fine.” I love our banter. It serves as a solace from the heartache I feel when I’m alone with my thoughts and memories. He hands me the container and sits on the corner of my bed.
“How are you feeling today?” he asks, turning our conversation serious. I try to portray the picture of happiness, but every now and then I back pedal into depression and it shows. Everyone thinks it’s because of my accident and having limited mobility. I don’t tell them any differently.
“A little better. I’ve reduced my intake of pain meds so that’s something.” He cocks his head to the side and eyes me suspiciously—probably sensing there’s more that I’m not sharing, but he is unsure what.
“Okay. Well, that’s good,” he replies not totally convinced. He gets up and grab a few board games from my closet. “So which game shall we play today?” My choices are Scrabble, Monopoly, and Checkers. I choose Checkers because I know that it is secretly his favorite. His face lights up at my choice and I can’t help but laugh. Needless to say, he goes over the hour time limit my mother has for him. When she comes in to run him off, my eyes plead with hers to let him be. We play several games before I finally give up on the idea of trying to catch up to his number of wins. He puts everything away when my mom brings dinner in. He waves his good-bye and tells me he will see me the same time tomorrow. I don’t miss the not-so-subtle eye roll that my mom gives him, but he does.
“That boy is still in love with you,” she warns when he leaves.
“We’re just friends Mom.” I let out a deep breath. She doesn’t realize just how appreciative I am of that friendship right now. “That chapter of our lives is over, but there is no reason we can’t be great friends,” I reason.
“Just be careful,” she says before leaving me alone with my dinner. I devour the chicken breast and brussel sprouts. After the meal I had earlier, this is flavorless in comparison, but I know I need to balance my meals with the healthy stuff. Especially since, I’m not getting much activity. My ass really will have its own zip code. After my meal, I get ready for bed. I’m alone with my misery again and it sucks. Another day down and will reset tomorrow. It’s a slow recovery, but I’m making strides. I turn out the lights and get into bed. This cast is a pain in the ass to sleep in, but I manage.
As the wheels of the plane touch down on the tarmac, the pilot announces our arrival to Los Angles. The butterflies in my stomach that have been lying dormant over the winter break flutters at the realization that I’m back in the same city as the man who possesses my soul. Until now, numbness occupied the place where my heart resides. I was in shock at the way things transpired back when I was lying there in the hospital bed. Grayson let Vanessa deter him from checking to see how I was doing after my accident. His termination of our arrangement hurt me, but his refusal to see me in the end was annihilation to my already fragile existence. I don’t know what to do with these feelings that have resurfaced. Okay in fairness they n
ever left, just suppressed.
My hands clutch the arm rests of my seat as I brace myself for the sudden halt of the plane to a complete stop. I hate flying. Jordan looks over and pats my hand in understanding. She knows just how much I detest flying and small spaces. Combine the two elements together and I am a total nut case. The window seat did very little to offset my anxiety. We only flew because we left Jordan’s car back at the condo after my accident. I was too busted up to sit through a twenty-two hour drive home. Once the seat belt sign turns off, Jordan gets up quickly to grab our backpacks from the overhead storage. She then backs up to let me out, forcing the people behind her to wait until I ease into the isle in this God-awful boot.
It’s a black medical boot with velcro straps that go with everything— not. It’s a pain-in-my-ass contraption that makes my foot sweat, but it’s a necessary evil for my healing ankle fracture. My orthopedic doctor anticipates that I will need to wear this fashionable piece of foot accessory for another three weeks. Well at least I was able to say adiós to the cast and crutches. It feels great to be able to get around independently now. My mom babied me the entire time I was home. Believe it or not, Liam was my only saving grace from the looney bin. Jordan’s family whisked her off for most of the break for some sort of family retreat, but Liam visited me religiously. He would lose his shit if he knew about my stalker and the possible real cause of my accident. I did get in touch with the police officer though, to let him know the truth. He said he would look into it, but didn’t have much to go on since my lie caused the investigation to be ruled an accident.
My mother placated me by letting Liam come over, but her own failed marriage has left her bitter. I reassured her that there was nothing left between us, but friendship. This eased her concerns some, but she continued to eye him with disdain. Liam was ignorant to her disapproval of his presence. His mother, on the other hand, was happy that we were working on our friendship. I suspect that she is holding on to the idea that our friendship will blossom into what we had. That ship has more than sailed.
After we obtain the rest of our luggage and walk towards the front entrance of the airport, Jordan informs me that Bailey is picking us up. I pause in fear of what’s on the other side of those automatic doors.
“Shiv, I promise it’s just Bailey. I made her promise to come alone. She thought the request was odd, but she told me the others won’t be back until Sunday.”
“It’s not the girls I’m worried about.” I gnaw at my bottom lip.
“No Vanessa either. And of course Grayson would have no reason to be riding with her.”
When we walk out, Bailey is standing next to her Range Rover. She spots us immediately and runs up to give me a hug.
“Oh my god. I’ve missed you guys so much.” She gives me a soft squeeze before looking me in the eye. “How are you feeling?”
“Good. I’m glad to be back. I can’t wait to knock this semester out so we can finally graduate.” Yeah, I lay the lie on thick. Truth is, I’m nervous about the potential of running into Grayson. I am taking another marketing class this semester with a different professor, but the possibility of a run in is still there since it will be in the same building. I strategically chose the days opposite of his teaching schedule just to lessen the odds. “I agree with that. I can’t wait to graduate and start the next chapter of my life,” Bailey says dreamily. “You know, meet my future husband, have two point five kids, and buy the house with the white picket fence.”
She had me going for a second until I realize she is full of shit. She lives in a high-rise loft for God’s sake. I shove her and laugh at her sarcasm. She turns and hugs Jordan in equal measure. She then lifts her trunk so that we can load our luggage, only she slaps my hand away when I try to lift my mine. These people and their babying are going to drive me crazy. Yes, my ribs still give me trouble at times and I’m in this damn boot, but I am not incapable of doing things for myself. This is my mother’s behavior all over again. I don’t make a scene, though. I know she’s just trying to be helpful. I will just have to make sure the girls don’t go overboard. I hate feeling helpless.
I slide into the back seat and put my Beats earbuds in my ears. Jarell Perry’s “Win” croons through the earbuds and my mind once again falls on Grayson. I can already tell it’s going to be harder to push him to the back of my thoughts now that I’m back in Los Angeles. Jordan taps my leg in an effort to get my attention. I pull one bud out so that I can hear what she is saying.
“We were going to stop for a bite to eat before going home and I wanted to see if you had a place in mind.”
“It doesn’t really matter. Whatever you two decide, I’ll be good with.”
Now that she mentions it, I am kind of hungry. The snack on the plane did very little to curb my appetite.
“Well, I did have a craving for Chinese food,” Jordan offers.
“Craving, huh? You have something you’re not telling me?” Bailey catches on immediately and hysterically slaps the steering wheel. Realization crosses Jordan’s face and she pinches my knee. “Ow, I can’t believe you pinched me,” I joke.
“I am not pregnant you goof ball. That would be an immaculate conception seeing as though I haven’t seen Trevor since before the break. That and I’m a firm believer in the saying—no glove, no love,” she chuckles.
I don’t let on that Grayson and I’ve had unprotected sex when we were exclusive. “Chinese sounds good. I love their hot and sour soup.”
“Chinese it is then,” Bailey confirms.
“Only you Shiv. No one else goes to a Chinese restaurant for the soup,” Jordan teases.
We fill up on General TSO’s chicken and soup until we are completely stuffed. If I don’t watch it, my stomach is going to be as big as my ass. When we get home, Bailey decides she is going to come up to our condo and hang out for a while. I excuse myself for some relaxation time in the tub. Back at my mother’s house, I had to take showers because of the cast. My orthopedic doctor was thoughtful enough to transition me to a boot when he found out I was coming back to school for the spring semester.
As the tub fill with water, I pour in some of my handmade lavender-infused jojoba oil. The flowery scent wafts in the air and relaxes me before I even get into the steaming hot bath. I rid myself of my clothes and save my boot for last. It feels good to let my foot breathe. I’m careful not to bear any weight on my right leg as I ease into the silky water. I lean back in the tub and I can’t stop my thoughts from drifting to Grayson. This scene that I have set up for myself is similar to my last romantic night with him followed by awesome sex. My hand slips beneath the surface the water on its own accord. I gently stroke my clit as his face appears behind my closed eyes. I image his strong arms and washboard abs and my legs begin to tremble as I stroke faster. In my fantasy, it is Grayson who is bringing me to the brink of an orgasm. I hear his voice whisper ‘that’s it baby,’ and I explode in ecstasy. I bite my bottom lip to muffle my whimpers. Shameful, I know. I am supposed to be moving on from him. I blame it on being back here and all the damn memories we created.
Now that my skin is pruny like and I’ve rubbed one out, I get out of the tub and dry off completely before strapping my boot back on. I reluctantly put on a pair of sleep shorts and tank top, wishing I could just sleep naked and save myself the trouble putting on clothes. Jordan would get a kick out of that idea since she is the minimalist, clothing wise.
I’m not in bed long before Jordan is entering my room with two glasses of white wine. She sits on the edge of my bed and hands me one. “Did Bailey leave?”
“Yeah. She’s having a get-together Sunday once Angie and Meghan get into town.”
I give her my don’t-even-ask look and she laughs. “Don’t worry. I already lied and told her you had plans with Liam.”
“That may not be a bad idea. I can call him tomorrow to see if he wants to do something.”
“You’re playing with fire, Shiv. He knows you well and is using time to work his way
back into your heart,” she huffs. “I have my eyes on him.”
“You and my mother are insane. By the same logic, I know him too. He will not be sneaking past my defenses. We. Are. Just. Friends,” I emphasize as I gulp the last of my wine.
“Okay. Whatever. Anyway, I have plans for us tomorrow morning so get some sleep.” She takes my empty wine glass from me and literally skips out of the room. I know she is up to something, but right now I am too tired to care. I see that it is just shortly after one in the morning. I set the alarm on my phone for 8:00 a.m. before using the remote to turn out the light. Right now, this little invention is the best thing ever since sliced bread. I turn on my side, snuggle under the covers, and let sleep take me under.
The early morning light filters through my curtains and I feel the weight of Jordan’s body holding my covers taunt against me. “Get up Shiv and get dressed. You’re burning daylight.”
My alarm has yet to go off so that tells me that it’s not even eight yet. Jordan yanks the covers the rest of the way down as an incentive for me to get up. I feel like giving her a hard time so I groan my displeasure and pull the covers back over my head.
“Ah come on Shiv, don’t be like that. Get up already. We’re on a schedule.”
I try to hold back my snickering, but it is useless. She pulls the covers back once again in this tug o’ war we have going on and shows me her pout.
“Okay. Okay. Go on and get out already so I can get dressed.”
“I don’t know what you’ve got to hide. You know I’ve already seen your luscious goods. Just be glad that I’m straight, darling,” she kids as she gets up to leave my room. “I’m giving you twenty minutes and then I’m coming back,” she warns.
I know that she is not bluffing either. I pull my phone from under the pillow and grimace at the time. It’s six freaking forty-five. I really do groan this time. Jordan has lost her mind. What the hell is it possibly to do at this time of morning? This had better be good. I throw on a maxi dress and pair it with a blue jean jacket and ballet flats.
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