Falling for the Forbidden: Forbidden Series #1

by Lorraine, Tracy

  The three of us stay silent as the sounds of him crashing about in the kitchen filter through. Jenny looks between us once more before muttering her excuse and racing from the room.

  “This is bullshit,” Ben barks.

  Looking up at him, I see all the happiness and relaxation from our time together has gone. He’s once again full of anger, and as always, it’s directed straight at my dad. Frustration fills me that I have no clue what the issue is, but Ben’s made it very clear that he’s not going to share. I decide there and then that I need to start working on Dad. I need to get to the bottom of this if there’s even a slim chance of this working between us.

  “I know but—”

  “But what? You have some master plan that you haven’t shared that will magically make all of this okay?”

  “No, but—”

  “I can’t do this. I can’t sit around and watch you from a distance. I’m outta here.”

  I don’t get the chance to respond, because he’s gone. The front door slams and his car squeals out of the driveway.

  “Oh, has Ben gone?” Jenny asks, walking in with two mugs in her hand.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve got things I need to do.” Biting down on my bottom lip so she can’t see it trembling, I race past her and up to my room.

  The second I enter, his smell hits me and I’m reminded of every thoughtful and gentle thing he did this weekend. My eyes sting and a lump forms in my throat. It was all so perfect for those few hours. Falling onto my bed, I silently cry for what could be. For what Ben and I could have if the situation was different.

  * * *

  “What’s wrong?” Dad snaps when the three of us are sat around the dining table later that evening. Ben still hasn’t reappeared, and the messages I’ve sent him to ask if he’s okay have gone unread. I feel sick. How can things go from being so perfect to so fucked up so quickly?

  “Nothing,” I mutter, shovelling some rice into my mouth.

  “Could you at least sound a little grateful, Lauren? Not every kid has it as easy as you.”

  “I’m not a kid.” My eyes find Dad’s hard and angry ones across the table, but they do little to douse the fire raging inside me. “I’m not a fucking kid.”

  “Lauren, do not use—”

  “What? Are you going to march me to my room and ground me like a child? I’m an adult. I can make my own choices and live my own life.”

  “You’re eighteen. You don’t know what you want, let alone what’s right,” he roars.

  “And you do? How could you possibly know what I want and need? You’re too busy controlling everything and everyone around you to have time to notice anything I do.” Throwing my fork down on the plate, I push my chair out behind me and race to the door.

  “Oh, I notice, Lauren. I fucking notice everything,” he seethes as I round the corner.

  I’m panting when I lean back against my bedroom door. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve stood up to my dad, and most of those have been since I moved in.

  “Fucking hell,” I mutter to myself, pacing back and forth across my room. Knowing I can’t sit here stewing, I grab my phone. I’ve got two options.

  * * *

  “Over here,” I hear my best friend shout the second I step foot in our favourite bar.

  Looking over, I see she’s got our favourite booth and there’s already a cocktail pitcher in the centre. “So, you want to tell me what this impromptu drinking session is about?”

  “Not really.” Grabbing myself a glass, I fill it to the top and allow the cold, sweet margarita to slide down my throat.

  “In my experience, it can only be two things. Your parents, or a boy. Now, knowing what your dad’s like, it’s probably him, but for argument’s sake, let’s say it’s a boy. Give me all the details. Make it up if you have to. I need juicy details to make up for my lack of a boyfriend.” My cheeks heat and Danni doesn’t miss it. “You’re blushing. So there is a boy!” she squeals in excitement, clapping her hands together.

  Groaning, I fold my arms on the table and drop my head down onto them. “Yes, no…maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Tell. Me. Everything.”

  I do—well the beginning, anyway, because the second she sees where I’m going, she stops me.

  “Wait…please don’t tell me you’re fucking Ben. Oh my God, you are. You’re fucking Ben. Ben, your stepbrother. Ben!”

  “A little louder, please? The bartender in the staff room didn’t quite hear you.”

  “Shit, fuck. I’m sorry. But fuck, Lauren. You’re shagging your stepbrother? Do you have any idea how hot that is? Forbidden. But still, hot as fuck!”

  I bite my tongue to stop myself agreeing.

  Question after question falls from my best friend’s mouth as she tries to piece together how I ended up sat here a broken mess.

  “So is it over?”

  “What? No. Well, I don’t think so. I hope not.” Panic at the thought alone crawls up my throat and I know that I’m in way too deep with this. No matter what happens next, this thing with Ben is going to shatter me.

  “Maybe you’ll get another nocturnal visit. He might sneak into your room, into your bed—”

  “Stop, please,” I beg, not needing the images in my head.

  * * *

  The house is in darkness when the taxi pulls up later that evening. It’s way too late to be out on a school night, and I’m equally too pissed. It seems to be becoming a habit that I really need to get myself out of.

  After shoving some money at the driver, I stagger my way towards the house. Leaning against the front door, I fumble with the key when it suddenly opens. As I fall forwards, I prepare for the pain that’s surely going to follow, but instead of the solid stone floor, I hit a warm, hard, and very familiar body.

  “Ben?” I ask, trying to get my eyes to focus so that I can see him.

  “Where the fuck have you been?”

  “Out,” I snap, not liking the tone of his voice. It’s too similar to Dad’s—always demanding answers.

  “Whoa, okay. I’m sorry,” he soothes when I start fighting to get out of his arms. “It wasn’t meant to come out like that. I was just worried when you weren’t here and I couldn’t get a hold of you.”

  “Sorry,” I whisper, mortified that for even a moment I put him and my dad in the same box. “I just needed to get out of this house.”

  “Trust me, I understand that more than you could know.”

  He guides me towards the kitchen and, once he’s happy I’m safe on the chair he’s placed me on, he sets about getting me a glass of water and some tablets.

  “I’m fine,” I say when he hands them over.

  “Now you are. In a few hours when you have to get ready for work, it’s going to be another story.”

  Groaning, I swallow down the tablets.

  Once he’s cleared up any evidence we were here, Ben sweeps me up into his arms and carries me up the stairs.

  “I can walk, you know.”

  “Sure you can, baby. I just love having you in my arms.” I’ve no idea if the first part is meant to be sarcastic or not, but I let it go, enjoying the feeling of being pressed up against his hard body.

  I don’t realise I fall asleep in his arms, but the next thing I know I’m perched on the edge of my bed while Ben pulls my shirt over my head. Once my clothes are off, he stands and pulls his own t-shirt off before covering me with it. His scent surrounds me.

  “Mmm, it smells like you,” I mumble as he laughs at my drunken state.

  “Strange, that. Do I need to get a bucket?” His words pass me by as I watch him take care of me. He’s so kind and gentle with me that tears sting my eyes.

  “I think I’m falling in love with you.” It’s not until his face pales in front of me that I realise I said it out loud. “Shit,” I whisper.

  “No, Lauren. It’s just the excitement, the thrill of being caught.” He might be saying the words, but there’s no strength behind them
, and as I drift off, I wonder who he’s trying to convince. Him or me?

  Chapter Eleven

  I feel like death when I wake up the next morning. It’s not until I pry my eyes open that I realise it’s not as bad as I first thought, because my head is resting on Ben’s chest.

  “Morning, baby. How are you feeling?” He laughs when I grunt and roll onto my back.

  He goes to kiss me but must think better of it when I bite down on my lips. My mouth feels like the bottom of a bird’s cage; I don’t need to share it with anyone. His lips go to my neck instead, and almost immediately my hangover is put to one side.

  * * *

  “Good morning,” Erica sings when she sees me walking into the office. “Did you have a good weekend? Wait, don’t answer that…I can see it written all over your green face.”

  “I need tea,” I mutter, walking past her desk and going straight to the kitchen.

  “Sooo…” she purrs behind me. “Was it everything you thought it would be, even with the hangover from hell?”

  I can’t keep the smile from my face, and Erica squeals like a teenage girl. “It was…incredible. But the hangover is courtesy of my best friend. Dad and Jenny came home and things went to shit pretty quickly. I needed to get out and she was more than willing to ply me with cocktails if it meant she got the gossip.”

  “Sounds like a smart girl. Does your dad know?” Erica suddenly drops her voice and whispers the last bit.

  “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

  “Yeah, but the verdict’s still out on Ben.”

  The memory of his hangover cure this morning makes my cheeks heat. “I’ll take that blush as him still being alive, too…for now.”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I admit.

  “I wish I had the answer for you, I really do. But in all honesty, I’ve no idea what advice to give you aside from enjoy yourself while you can.”

  My mood quickly depletes. The look Dad gives me when he eventually appears from his office is one that would melt a weaker person, but I’m fed up with letting him run my life. I’m nearly nineteen, and it’s about time he realised that his control-freak nature won’t roll with me. Jenny might bend over backwards to make him happy, but I won’t. It’s bad enough I agreed to live with him, although I can’t really regret that decision anymore because it brought me Ben.

  I’m thoroughly pissed off when I march through the house later that evening. My hangover has long disappeared and I’m just about ready to start drinking all over again if it means forgetting my shitty day.

  Aside from a tense few minutes in the kitchen with Dad and Jenny while I find myself some dinner, I hide out in my room, silently hoping I’ll get a surprise visitor, but he never comes.

  * * *

  “Lauren, get in here,” Dad barks from his seat behind his desk.

  “Sure thing, boss,” I mutter under my breath as I push my chair out and follow his demands.

  “I need you to work late tonight.”

  “Great.” The sarcasm in my voice causes his lips to press into a thin line.

  “I need all the customer details from these,” he says, pushing a massive stack of paper towards me. “Put into a spreadsheet.”

  “We’ve already got—”

  “Are you questioning me?” he snaps, his eyes darkening with frustration.

  “No. Whatever you need.”

  “What I need is for you to do your job without questioning everything. Can you do that?”

  “Sure, but—”

  “No buts, Lauren. Just go and do your damn job.”

  I walk out of his office with the stack of papers in my arms, tears stinging my eyes.

  As I watch everyone else leave for the night, I’m still setting up the bloody spreadsheet Dad had drawn out for me on a scrap of paper. Spreadsheets are not my forte, so it takes much longer than it should.

  I’m just making a start on inputting everything when the buzzer for the main door to the building rings out loud around the silent space around me. I glance at my phone, but I’ve got no messages or missed calls.

  When it rings again, I make my way over and press the button to see who’s at the door.

  My heart turns over when I find Ben looking back at me. “Are you going to let me in anytime soon?” he asks into the speaker.

  “Yeah, sorry. Hang on.” Pressing the button down, I give him time to enter the building before going over the office door to wait for him. “Mmm...this is a nice surprise,” I say once he’s released my lips.

  “I got this really weird message from Mum telling me that she and your dad were going out to meet a client tonight and that you were working late. She never usually tells me shit like that—”

  “She knows about us.”

  His eyes widen in panic. “She does?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I’ve got a feeling.”

  “That would make sense,” he says with a nod. “Anyway, I’ve come to help, and I’ve ordered pizza.”

  “My saviour,” I sigh dramatically. “Surely you’ve got something better to do tonight than help me with this bullshit?”

  “What are you doing?”

  I walk over to my desk and explain.

  “This is bullshit. This spreadsheet already exists.” He clicks around in the server and pulls up a replica of what I’m creating.

  “He just wanted me out of the house. I can’t believe it.” The frustration I was already feeling starts to morph into anger.

  “I can.”

  “He’s not going to get away with this.” Grabbing my phone, I unlock it and go to call his number, but it’s snatched from my hands.

  “Think about this, Lauren. I’d love for you to call him up and rip him a new one, but do you want to make him any more suspicious than he already is? He thinks that, by giving you such a pointless task, he’s keeping us apart. You can hardly tell him that I turned up to fuck you in his office and pointed this out.”

  I stare at him. The anger coursing through my veins suddenly turns into something else. “You came to fuck me on his desk?”

  “Well, I came to help. I was just hopeful for more.”

  Stepping up to him, I press my lips to his. His hands start on my waist but are soon tangled in my hair as he deepens the kiss.

  The buzzer going off again forces us to break apart. “I hope you like pizza.”

  “Who doesn’t like pizza?”

  He shrugs before walking over to the buzzer and letting the delivery guy in while I smooth my hair down.

  “How did you know that spreadsheet exists?”

  “I’m more involved in this business than everyone believes.”

  “Oh.”

  “This is my legacy. My future. I need to know that there’s going to be something left for me when my time comes.”

  “Why wouldn’t there be anything left? As far as I can see, the profits are only increasing year after year and our reputation is sky high.”

  “Things aren’t always as they seem.” It’s not the first time he’s said those words to me.

  “So, what are they, then? What are you trying to say?”

  He’s silent for a few seconds as he tries to come up with an answer. “I don’t want to drag you into it. Just be aware, is all.”

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I wait for him to elaborate, but it soon becomes clear that he’s not going to say any more on the matter.

  “Now, copy and paste that stuff into a new spreadsheet so it looks like you’ve made a start, and then meet me in your dad’s office.” He winks at me as he tidies up the pizza boxes and a rush of heat fills my body.

  I shouldn’t be fucking my stepbrother. I really shouldn’t be fucking him on my dad’s desk. And I really, really shouldn’t be this excited about it.

  I do what I need to do in case Dad starts asking questions first thing. I’ve no idea what Ben’s doing, but I can hear him crashing about in Dad’s office. My pulse thunders in my veins as I think about what’s w
aiting for me on the other side of that door.

  This is so very wrong, but I can’t think of anything I want more right now.

  By the time I hit save, my entire body is aching with anticipation for what’s to come.

  After shutting down the computer, I comb my fingers through my hair and wipe away any smudged makeup from under my eyes. It’s crazy because he’s been sitting here right next to me for the last hour, but I’m nervous.

  My legs feel like jelly as I walk over to the door. I should just turn the handle and walk in, but something stops me.

  With excitement and anticipation filling me, I lift my hand and gently knock the solid wood.

  “Come in.” His voice is deep and has tingles racing down my spine.

  The door clicks as I turn the handle, then I push it open and walk in. I find Ben sitting in Dad’s chair with his feet propped up on the edge of the desk like he owns the place.

  If it wasn’t for the pulsing muscle in his neck, I’d say he was totally unaffected by this situation, but I know it’s not the case.

  He’s just as excited as I am right now.

  “Strip,” he demands. His fingers entwine across his stomach as he rests back in the chair like he’s about to watch TV—only his sole focus in on my body.

  My hands tremble a little as I lift them to the top button on my blouse, but I never move my eyes from his.

  With each button I undo, his blue eyes darken and the muscle in his neck pulses faster. He’s fighting to keep himself in that chair right now, and the knowledge that it’s me causing that has fire burning in my belly and my confidence soaring.

  Turning my back to him, I allow the fabric to fall from my shoulders and slowly drop down my arms, exposing my back. It flutters to the floor and I look over my shoulder just in time to watch him follow its journey.

  When his attention comes back to me, his impatience is clear on his face. “More.”

  Nodding at his request, I unclip my bra. I make quick work of toeing off my shoes and unzipping and dropping my skirt, revealing my thong-clad arse to him. His groan of approval spurs me on.