Forbidden Touch: A Second Chance Stepbrother Romance

by Rye Hart

  Back in the day, he'd walked around Elsinore Academy, our private school, like he owned the place. And in a lot of ways, I suppose he did. His swagger combined with his confident grin could persuade any girl to skip class and meet with him in the bathrooms. And yes, I'm ashamed to admit that I was one of many who'd been suckered in by that handsome, chiseled face, and had done some rather unsavory things in the bathroom with him.

  “Well, here's hoping I was wrong about you,” I said, trying to remain as composed and put together as I could manage. “I'm starving, so let's try that new place down the street.”

  Carter shrugged and followed me out the door. I could feel his eyes on my ass, watching my every movement. I cleared my throat and tried my best to ignore it, to keep a professional distance between us. But, it was so hard not to put a little extra swish my hips, just to give him a little show.

  I looked over my shoulder and caught him staring. With a smug, cocky grin on his face, he wasn't even trying to hide it. Nor was he trying to hide the very obvious erection in his jeans.

  “I'm assuming I'm driving since you've been drinking already,” I said. “The last thing we need is for you to get a DUI on top of your assault charge. Get in.”

  Carter surprisingly, didn't say a word. No arrogant quip or cocky comeback. He simply did as he was told, sliding into the passenger seat and buckling up without having to be told to do it. The ride over to the restaurant was mostly silent, something else that surprised me. Carter just sat there, looking almost thoughtfully at the street in front of the car. I suddenly wished I knew what was going through his mind.

  I wanted to slap myself, but as I drove, I couldn't keep myself from stealing glimpses at his crotch. He didn't even try to hide the hard-on he had for me. He was a well-endowed man, which made it nearly impossible to cover up, though, out of decency and respect, he could have at least tried to. But no, he wanted to drive me mad with lust and desire.. As we drove, I felt myself growing warmer and wetter between my thighs by the minute as I remembered how thick and long he was, and how great it felt to have him inside of me.

  I licked my lips and cleared my throat, trying to banish those images and memories from my mind; and failing at it miserably.

  “You okay?” Carter asked.

  I looked over and felt my cheeks flare with heat when I saw the sly little grin on his face as though he were reading my mind It's why he sat there in the passenger seat with a very noticeable hard-on. He wanted me to see it. And he wanted me to crave it.

  “Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?” I was clearly flustered, but I hoped he didn't notice.

  “Because the cafe was back there a couple of blocks,” he said with a laugh. “Maybe I should have driven after all.”

  “Shit,” I hissed. “Dammit.”

  Blushing even harder than before, I turned the car around at the next opportunity without another word. I dropped my car off with the valet and we walked inside a cafe that obviously catered to the hipster crowd. We were seated almost immediately outside on the patio – one benefit of being fairly recognizable in these parts.

  I relished the feel of the sun on my skin and the cool breeze that blew by us. It helped to calm me down and take a little bit of the steam out of the fires burning inside of me. I ordered an iced tea, and Carter, of course, asked for a beer, even though it wasn't even noon.

  “I was really hoping we could have a serious, sober discussion, but I guess that's not entirely possible with you, is it?” I muttered, scanning the menu instead of looking over at him.

  “On second thought,” Carter said, catching the waitress before she stepped away, “I'll just have a Coke, if you don't mind.”

  I raised an eyebrow and glanced at him over my menu.

  “What? Don't act so surprised. I drink non-alcoholic beverages sometimes,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Usually only when they're mixed in with your liquor of choice,” I teased.

  “Yeah, maybe, but perhaps I should consider turning over a new leaf,” he said. “At least for a little bit.”

  “I was hoping you might say that, and actually mean it,” I said, closing the menu and staring at my stepbrother earnestly. “Because let's face it, neither one of us could survive without our parents’ money. If they yank our trust funds, we are screwed, Carter. You do get that, right?”

  “Is that what this is about? The money?” he said dryly. “And here, I thought my loving stepsister actually cared about me and wanted to see me get back on the straight and narrow path.”

  “I do care about you, Carter, and you know that,” I said. “I'm worried about the direction your life is taking. But you've told me many times over that it's not my business and to leave you alone. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that. If you don't want my help – and refuse to do anything to help yourself – can I really continue banging my head against that brick wall? Should I?”

  The waitress brought us our drinks and we ordered our food. Truth be told, I wasn't really in the mood to eat; this little lunch date was more about talking to Carter in a place where he couldn't get me into bed.

  “It's not that I don't appreciate your concern or your offers of help, Vanessa. But let's face facts, you'll always be a Daddy's girl who cares more about the money and the status of being an Elliott than you'll care about me,” Carter said. “Not that I blame you. You have a hell of a career ahead of you.”

  I looked down at my hands, not sure if I should be offended by the first half of his statement or flattered by the second half. As with everything else when it came to Carter, the issues and feelings – not to mention my thoughts – were all confused. A complex maelstrom of shit that circled around and round in my head, and in my heart. Nothing was ever simple with Carter. Nothing had ever been simple with Carter. So, why should it surprise me that it wasn't now?

  “Do you remember when we were in high school?” Carter asked, a smile on his face. “How you were obsessed with becoming our student body president? You went up against what's her face – Abigail something?”

  “Abigail Taylor,” I said, almost shocked he remembered something so inconsequential from so long ago. “She was a shoe-in for the position, the most popular girl in school.”

  “Niece of the Vice-Chancellor and favorite of teachers all over campus, if I remember correctly,” he said. But you beat her. And from that day, I knew you were special. You’re a force to be reckoned with, Vanessa. No one could ever hold you down when you put your mind to something.”

  Now he really was making me blush. I opened my mouth to say something, but found that I had no words. Instead, I just looked away and remained silent.

  Carter reached across the table and took my hand in his giving it a gentle squeeze that made me look up and meet his gaze. His eyes were surprisingly clear – clearer than I'd seen them in a while. And when I looked into his face, I knew he was sober and that I was speaking to the real Carter. The Carter I knew and loved so deeply.

  My breath caught in my throat and my stomach tied itself in knots as we gazed into each other's eyes. I looked around, pulling my hands back when I caught people staring at us. Everyone knew the family around these parts – and they knew we were stepsiblings. Holding hands with my stepbrother would most definitely send the wrong message.

  “I'm shocked you think that highly of me still, considering all the mean things you've said about me lately,” I took a drink of my iced tea to avoid looking at him. “I was actually starting to think you hated me.”

  “Nah, I could never hate you, Vanessa,” he said softly. “Just the opposite actually.”

  My heart did a flip-flop in my chest. No way. Carter Prescott didn't love anyone but himself. I pulled my hand from his and sat back in my seat, studying him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was playing me.

  “So if you don't hate me, then why are you determined to make my life a living hell?” I asked him.

  I caught him staring intently at my cleavage and while it sent a thrill o
f desire through me as a burst of heat erupted between my thighs, I knew I had to keep myself under control. After all, if I couldn't keep myself in check, how in the hell was I supposed to keep him in check? I pulled my dress up a bit, hoping to cover up a little more, though honestly, it didn't do much good.

  “I'm not. At least, I don't mean to be,” he said. “I'm just trying to live my own life, on my terms. I thought you, of all people, would understand that.”

  “But all the drinking and the drugs,” I whispered. “Why do that to yourself? Do you really want to end up a strung-out addict? Do you have a death wish?”

  He shrugged, and it broke my heart to know he really didn't seem bothered by the idea of his death. Carter wasn't suicidal, but he was careless, and clearly thought he was invincible.

  “It's fun and it gets my mind off the shitty stuff I have to deal with,” he said. “What can I say?”

  “What shitty stuff, Carter?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “You're rich, handsome, could have any woman you wanted – ”

  “Not any woman,” he interrupted me.

  He held my gaze intently, making me look away from him again as the heat crept back into my cheeks. Not many men had the ability to render me speechless, but Carter was definitely one of them.

  “Pretty much,” I said with a dry laugh. “And you're smart. I know you're smart, Carter.”

  “You're the one that graduated from Stanford, not me.”

  “Because you didn't even apply,” I said. “You forget all those long conversations we used to have. You forget that I know how smart you actually are. And why you hide that away from the world is beyond me. ”

  “I didn't apply because I knew I wouldn't get in. Not with my grades,” he said. “And even if I had somehow managed to get into Stanford or someplace like it, I'd would eventually get myself suspended or kicked out. So, why bother? I'm not cut out for that life. At least I'm honest enough with myself to admit that.”

  “Then what are you cut out for?”

  “Drinking, fucking, and having one hell of a good time,” he said with a smirk. “And we both know I'm good at all three of those things. Damn good.”

  Carter stood up and walked over to my side of the table, taking the seat next to me. He leaned forward and for a second, I thought he might kiss me, but instead, he surprised me by whispering into my ear.

  “Who are we kidding, Vanessa?” he said. “Let's get out of here and fuck like we used to.”

  His hand moved up my inner thigh, stroking me between my legs. I could feel myself growing wetter at his touch, the fires inside of me burning out of control as his fingers continued to trace a circle around my panties. If he kept that up, my desire for him was so strong, I might come right there at the table.

  And, he was right – who were we kidding? I wanted him, he wanted me, and there was no use denying it.

  He slipped my panties aside and I gasped as his finger entered me. He smiled salaciously at me as he pressed his other finger to my lips, silencing me as he moved his finger in and out of me. My gasp was soft, quiet, but the sensations that rocketed through my body were intense and I had to bite my bottom lip hard to keep from crying out. All while people sat nearby, oblivious to the fact that my stepbrother was fingering me at our table.

  My toes began to curl in my shoes and my eyes were rolling back in my head as he drove his fingers in and out of me. I so badly wanted to reach down and stroke the obvious erection in his jeans, to take him in my hand while he had his fingers in me.

  “You know, we may call it fucking,” he said, sticking two fingers inside of me this time, “but it's always been more than that, hasn't it?”

  I couldn't bring myself to move or to say anything. I sat there, my body rigid clenching my jaw, terrified that I might cry out or groan in pleasure as he continued fingering me. I just stared into his eyes, fighting the urge to kiss him right there in public. The last thing I wanted to do was to give our secret desire for each other away. If Carter and I were caught, it would be disastrous for my father's campaign. It very well could end his political career.

  “You mean more to me than the others. You always have, Vanessa. And you know that,” he said, pulling his fingers out from my pussy and licking them clean, never breaking eye contact with me. “It's always been you.”

  The others. All the others. Countless others. From Abigail Taylor back in the day to that tramp Brittany, to the countless others in between. There had never been a shortage of warm, willing bodies filling up Carter's bed, catering to his every sexual want, whim and desire. But he was right about one thing – between us, things had always been different.

  Carter put his fingers back between my legs, but this time, I grabbed his hand before he could slip inside. I squeezed his hand hard as he stared at me.

  I wasn't playing that game anymore. I was a grown up. I had grown up responsibilities. And even though every nerve ending inside of me was crying out for release, even though my mind was screaming for me to take him home, I couldn't let myself give in to those base, carnal desires. There was simply too much at stake.

  “How many times do I have to tell you – we can't do this, Carter,” I said through clenched teeth. “We're family now. It's wrong.”

  “We're not related by blood,” he said. “only by marriage.”

  “Not in the eyes of the press,” I said. “And we can't – ”

  “Can't have lives of our own?” he spat, growing angry. “At least, not when daddy dearest is running for office. We wouldn't want to disappoint or embarrass him, now would we?”

  “Carter, it's more complicated than that,” I said and sighed.

  I shook my head and looked away. My heart was hammering inside of my chest and my pussy was still aching with desire. It was so incredibly hard to tell him no. My body wanted to say yes, to sleep with him, to taste that pleasure with him again, but my brain knew it was a bad idea.

  “No, really, it's not,” Carter said, finishing the last of his Coke. “But it's easier to say it's complicated than admit we have feelings for one another, isn't it? And you claim I'm the one pushing you away. Right. Pardon my language, dear stepsister, but what a crock of shit. You're just a coward.”

  Tears welled in my eyes, but I fought them back and was able to remain in control of myself.. My grip on my composure was tenuous at best. I was hanging on by a mere thread.

  “Carter, please, we need to be good. I need you to behave,” I said. “I can't let this ruin my own political career, my own future. And if you care for me, if you've ever cared for me at all, you'd understand that.”

  Carter stood up and dropped some bills on the table. “You know what? I'm no longer hungry,” he said. “It's been nice talking to you, sis.”

  He walked away, but I called out to him. “Carter, please – ”

  He stopped, turned and looked at me with a renewed hope in his eyes.

  “Please, we really can't afford to lose our trust funds,” I said, hoping to appeal to the only thing that I knew would get through to him.

  Carter snorted and shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

  That was all he said before he turned and walked out of the cafe, leaving me alone at the table. I slammed my hands down and clenched my fists to stop myself from screaming. Every time we were together, it went this way.

  There was no way I could keep an eye on Carter twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week – not if I wanted to stay sane.

  But dammit, I was tired of him thinking I was no fun, some prim, proper, goody-two-shoes, stick in the mud.

  And I was tired of denying myself what I wanted most in the world.

  CHAPTER SIX - CARTER

  I took an Uber back to my family's home to get my car. After that blowout with Vanessa, the last thing I wanted was to be trapped in a car with her. On my drive back to my place though, I noticed that there was a black car following me. Part of me thought I was just being paranoid, but no matter which way I turned, it was always back there.


  An ominous feeling crept over me as I watched it in the rearview mirror – watched as it turned down the same streets I did, keeping close to me. When I pulled down my private street on the bay, that ominous feeling intensified when it turned down with me. Parking my car in the secure garage, I waited for the gate to close and let out a sigh of relief. He couldn't follow me down there, which meant I'd lost the guy. But I knew he was still outside the complex, watching me. The question was – who was he and why was he there?

  I thought about it, puzzled it over, and came to the one inescapable conclusion – Vanessa. My stepsister was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. If she wasn't willing to be with me all day, every day, she'd hire someone else to do it. Someone who could report on my location at all hours of the day or night and let her know if I've been naughty or nice.

  Great. Just what I wanted, a fucking babysitter. It was fine when it was going to be Vanessa. Given our history, it could have even been a lot of fun. But some asshole following me around, reporting on every little thing I did – that was some serious bullshit.

  I considered calling her up and laying into her. Part of me wanted to roast her for hiring a PI to follow me around; one who couldn't even keep himself hidden. Or maybe, as I gave it a little more thought, he wasn't even trying to hide himself. Maybe being obvious and not very discrete about following me was the point. Maybe Vanessa wanted me to know I was being followed, being watched, hoping it would keep me from doing something stupid.

  It showed how little she actually thought of me, since I wasn't stupid either. I wasn't in the mood or inclined to play her little games. So when Joel called and wanted to hang out at Liquid Lounge again, I told him I'd be right there. The PI wasn't going to stop me from living my life and having a good time in whatever fucking manner I saw fit.

  I changed into different clothes and put on a hoodie that obscured my face as much as possible. After getting dressed and ready, I slipped out of my penthouse, taking the elevator down to the private entrance in the rear of the building – the one that was mostly used for discreet encounters the wealthy folk in the building enjoyed having. I'd seen some of these corporate bigwigs sneaking mistresses in and out of that entrance more often than I changed my underwear.