Falling for the Forbidden: Forbidden Series #1

by Lorraine, Tracy

  “No!” I shriek, running to get between them. I’m too slow. Dad’s already committed to throwing the punch, only instead of landing on the person he was intending to hit, it connects with my cheek.

  “You motherfucker!” Ben roars, pushing himself off the wall and forcefully shoving my Dad out of the way so he can get to me. Unfortunately, Dad’s so pumped up that he ignores me, still clutching my face while on the floor, and he goes for Ben. The noise that comes from Dad’s throat is something I’d expect to hear from an animal, not a human—and certainly not my fucking father.

  “I’ve called the police,” someone shouts, and my Dad stops.

  Blood drips from Ben’s lip and his eye swells, but he doesn’t cower away from Dad. “This whole restaurant just witnessed you assaulting both me and your own daughter. I suggest you get the hell out of here,” he spits. “And take that cheap slut with you.” His lip curls in disgust as he glances at the woman over Dad’s shoulder.

  “This isn’t over,” he warns. “Lauren, come on.”

  “No fucking way. I’m not letting you anywhere near her.” The two of them stare at each other until the sound of sirens filters through the restaurant. Dad turns on his heel and marches towards the door, the woman hot on his heels.

  “Fucking hell, are you okay?” Ben drops to his knees beside me and gently takes my face in his hands. His eyes run over every inch of my face, looking for injuries. His hands tremble, making the tears in my eyes finally drop. “Fuck.”

  His thumbs wipe the moisture away and I’m lifted into his arms. Somehow, he manages to pull out a wad of cash from his pocket and, after apologising to the poor waiter who’s still standing there looking shell-shocked, he carries me from the restaurant.

  The police car comes to a stop outside just as Ben pulls away from the curb. “Shouldn’t we have stayed to speak to them?”

  “Do you think sending the cops after your dad is going to make this any better?”

  “No, probably not. I’m so sorry, I—”

  “Lauren, none of this is your fault. You have nothing to apologise for.”

  “But your face.”

  “Trust me, it’s looked a hell of a lot worse. He’s right about one thing, though. I never should have touched you. You’re way too good for an arsehole like me. I deserved a solid punch for that.”

  “Stop talking about yourself like that.” He quickly glances over at me and my heart breaks at the look on his face. “I meant it, Ben. I love you.”

  His grip on the wheel tightens, turning his knuckles white. He blows out a long breath and stares ahead. I can’t help feeling like my words just hurt more than my dad’s fists, but I’ve no clue why.

  “Stay here,” he demands, pulling up in front of a shop. I have little choice but to do as he says, so I sit in the dark and wait. My phone vibrates in my bag but I don’t have the energy to find out who it is. It’s probably Dad ready to fire some more fucks into me for my stupid actions. Rolling my eyes at his childish behaviour, I rest my head back and close my eyes. My cheek throbs and ruins any chance I might have had of forgetting the last hour of my life.

  My mind replays this evening over and over, trying to figure out how it all went so wrong. What were the chances of him being in the same restaurant on the other side of London? The shock I saw on his face when I first looked up, before his anger took over, told me that he hadn’t followed us.

  It really was just a horrific coincidence.

  The image of the red-headed woman standing behind him pops up, and I feel like I’m going to puke. I didn’t believe Ben all those weeks ago when he first found me in their kitchen and accused me of being my dad’s bit on the side. I was aware it was his wandering ways that broke him and Mum up, but I really thought he was serious about Jenny. Knowing the only reason he was in that restaurant in the first place was because he was also hiding a dirty secret ensures that my stomach continues to turn over. I guess it gives us some ammunition when we go home and confront him about all of this.

  “Don’t fall asleep,” Ben says the second he pulls the door open.

  “I wasn’t.”

  “You might have a concussion.”

  “I’m fine. Honestly. I didn’t hit my head.”

  Dropping a couple of bags at my feet, he starts the car and pulls away from the curb. Silence descends around us. I hate the uncertainty I’m suddenly feeling. I knew Dad finding out was going to change things, but I wasn’t expecting what happened.

  “A hotel?” I ask when Ben pulls up into the underground car park.

  “What? You wanted to go home?” The laugh that falls from him holds no amusement.

  “No. I’d quite happily never go back there again.”

  “Now you understand a little of how I feel about that place.” He throws both our phones in the glove compartment after turning off the engine, and I couldn’t be happier to be cut off from the rest of the world after everything that’s happened tonight.

  With my hand locked in his, we walk towards the entrance and book a room. The woman’s face behind reception twists in concern the moment she sees the state of us, but she soon drags her gaze away and hands over a key.

  Knowing that we’re going to be able to at least enjoy the rest of our night together before we face reality does have me breathing a little easier, although it doesn’t mean I forget everything we’ve got coming our way when we do eventually go home.

  “Go lie down.” Ben pushes me towards the bed, then goes into the bathroom briefly with the bags. I listen as he runs the tap before he reappears with a glass of water, a packet of painkillers, and a bag of frozen peas. “Here, take these.”

  “I really am fine. You’re the one who needs taking care of.” I wince as he presses the cold peas to my cheek. “Please, let me look after you.”

  Placing my hand over his, I look up into his eyes, pleading with him.

  “Fine,” he whispers. “But be warned, I’m not used to being looked after.”

  Getting up from the bed, I go in search of something to clean up his face with. I dampen some tissue with warm water and head back into the bedroom. I find Ben still sat where I left him on the edge of the bed.

  I unfasten his shirt buttons and push the fabric from his shoulders. He watches me through sad, swollen eyes.

  “Scoot back.” He does as I say, and in seconds he’s resting back against the headboard.

  I pull my dress up my thighs and throw my leg over him. After running my eyes over his face, I press some tissue to his blood-stained chin and attempt to clean him up. He winces when I brush past the cut, but he allows me to continue.

  “I’m so sorry for—”

  “Stop apologising for him. His actions have nothing to do with you.”

  “I know. But—”

  “No. No buts. I’ll always fight for you, Lauren, whether that’s with your dad or anyone else who disapproves of this.” His hips flex and I feel his length against me. Warm fingers wrap around my wrist, stopping me. He plucks the tissue from my fingers and drops it to the bed before pulling me down to him. “Me and you, Lauren. I’ll always fight for you…protect you. Always.”

  His hands push my dress higher up my thighs and fingers slip inside my knickers.

  “Always so wet for me,” he murmurs as he finds my clit.

  Groaning in pleasure, I grind myself on his fingers. I need the release that only he can give me after the night we’ve had. He works me into a frenzy before pulling his fingers out of me and undoing his trousers.

  “Pocket,” he grunts, and I dig around until I find the condom.

  He goes to take it from my fingers but I hold tight. “Can I?”

  His eyes darken with desire. “Be my guest.”

  I help him free himself and push the fabric down his thighs before I roll the condom down over his length.

  “Over to you, then, baby.”

  Lifting myself up, I pull my knickers to the side and slide down onto him. We both sigh in pleasure.


  “I’ll never get enough of this.” His hands come up and squeeze my breasts, and it only makes my impending orgasm build faster.

  All of the stress from tonight falls away as I focus on the sensations that fill my body. I keep my movements slow, enjoying the feeling of him filling me to the hilt.

  Circling my hips when I’m fully seated, I gasp when he hits me so deep that it almost sends me spiralling into my release.

  “Let go, baby. That’s it.” His eyes stay locked on mine, his hands on my hips, helping me move.

  Rotating my hips once more, light explodes behind my eyes and my body twitches and pulsates around him. I fight to keep my eyes on his but I lose the battle, the pleasure surging through me too violently.

  Falling down onto his chest, I’m vaguely aware of him thrusting up into me until he groans and stills before his cock twitches, releasing everything he has.

  His hands run up and down my back. It’s relaxing, but reality soon starts to creep back in.

  I reach for the bag of frozen peas still on the bed. Lifting them takes all my energy, but I manage to press them against Ben’s eye.

  “It’s fine.” He tries to move them away but I’m not having it. I feel pretty useless right now, and this is the only thing I can think of that will hopefully make somewhat of a difference.

  The rest of the night is mostly filled with silence. We’re both too lost in our own thoughts—or nightmares—to want to chat much. When I discover the bath has a Jacuzzi, I get it going and fill it with the salts I find on the side.

  Even with the warmth of the water and the relaxing scent filling the room, Ben’s muscles are still pulled tight. I can only imagine how he’s feeling.

  “I can’t stop seeing him hitting you,” he whispers once we’re curled up in bed. He pulls me even tighter to him. “Every time I close my eyes, his fist is flying to your face. No man should ever hit a woman. Ever.”

  “I was trying to stop him from hitting you. He didn’t mean to hit me,” I argue, but I know it’s weak at best.

  “It doesn’t matter. He still hit you. I was meant to be protecting you. I promised I’d protect you, and yet that arsehole hit you. In front of me.”

  Running my hand up his chest, I wrap my fingers around his neck and make him look at me.

  “None of what happened tonight was your fault, Ben. You need to stop blaming yourself. There was nothing you could have done.”

  “I never should have allowed myself to touch you. Your dad’s right. I’m bad news.”

  “Shut up, right now. Do not believe a word that comes from his mouth. He doesn’t know you. You’re incredible, Ben.”

  He makes an unintelligible noise and tries to push me away.

  “No. I won’t let you do this. I won’t let you pull away from me.” Wrapping my arm around his waist and throwing my leg over his, I hold him as tightly as I possibly can. No more words are said between us—we’re too lost in our own heads—but eventually we must drift off to sleep in each other’s arms.

  Chapter Twelve

  No words need to be exchanged the next morning. Just one look at each other and we know everything’s about to change. I can’t imagine a situation where Dad allows us to be together, but I’m not letting Ben go. Screw the business and the education I’ve been promised.

  Other things in life are more important.

  “I’m not ready,” I admit when Ben comes back from the bathroom and begins pulling his clothes on.

  “What’s the point in putting off the inevitable? We need to go and face the music.”

  “Just a little longer?” I plead, hoping to live in this little bubble we’ve created for just a few more hours.

  “We’ll have lunch, then we’re going back.” If I couldn’t see Ben’s face, I would think the words he’s saying aren’t affecting him. He seems so strong and sure of what we’ve got to do, but in reality, I can feel the fear the uncertainty radiating off him. It breaks my heart to know he’s hurting because of my dad again. But what can I do?

  I stand to the side while Ben hands the key over to the receptionist, fighting to keep in the tears stinging my eyes. I just want to curl up in a ball and cry. Through hazy eyes, I take him in, head to toe. I’m not ready for this to be over yet. We’ve got so much more to get to know about each other. We deserve more time.

  His eyes widen when he turns and finds me staring at him, but he doesn’t say anything. Nothing he can say can make this any better.

  I get a bit of déjà vu when he pulls up in front of the same shop we stopped at last night and tells me to stay put.

  I will my brain to stop, but it continues to race. It feels like no time has passed at all when he pulls the door open and climbs back in. The more I pray for our time together to last just a little bit longer, the faster it seems to go.

  I expect him to take us to a café or restaurant for lunch, so I’m a little surprised when he pulls up in the same car park he brought me the first day we really spent any time together. That day feels like a million years ago, now.

  “This is where it all started,” he says sadly. “It seemed like a perfect place to—”

  “Do not finish that sentence.” If he says the words I fear are coming, I’m going to lose it. Instead he nods, grabs the bag of food he bought, and climbs out of the car. His shoulders hang like he’s got the weight of the world on them. With a sigh, I follow his lead.

  After retrieving a blanket from the boot, we walk hand in hand over to the oak tree and set up our little picnic. The sun might be shining, but it feels like we’ve got a giant black rain cloud hanging over us, and I realise that as much as I want to put off going home, right now is torture. Looking at Ben, knowing this could be the end is just too much to bear.

  “Fancy a sausage roll?” A weak laugh passes my lips at his attempt at a joke. “Lauren, you need to eat something.”

  “I can’t. I feel sick.”

  I expect him to argue, but once again he just nods.

  * * *

  “I guess we should get this over with, then?” I ask after we’ve been sitting on the blanket in silence for well over an hour.

  “Just one more thing.” Crawling over to me, Ben cups the back of my head and gently lowers me down. His lips tickle against mine and I just about manage to hold back a sob.

  His kiss is so gentle and so full of emotion. My heart pounds like it’s going to explode out of my chest. For some reason, this kiss feels final, like it could be a goodbye, and it has a lump forming in my throat at just the thought of this being the end for us.

  Turning my head from his lips, my first tear falls.

  “Lauren,” he whispers, running his nose across my cheek until his lips are at my ears. “I love you, too.”

  The sob I was holding in erupts. I want to scream. I want to shout about the unfairness of all this, but I know it won’t help. Even if Dad were to hear it, it wouldn’t make one ounce of difference.

  Silence hangs heavy between us during the drive home. Our phones continue to vibrate from where we stashed them in the glove box yesterday and it’s just another reminder of what’s waiting for us.

  I’m surprised when Ben pulls into the driveway to find only my car parked in front of the house. I expected the most depressing welcome home party ever.

  Reaching over, Ben pulls both phones from their hiding place and hands mine over before unlocking his and reading through messages. I don’t bother looking. I’ve got plenty of time for that later.

  “Come on. I really need to get out of these clothes.”

  I can only agree—we’re both still wearing the outfits we chose for our meal last night.

  No one’s home and the house seems creepier than ever as we walk through it. I feel like I’m being watched, but as I look over my shoulder, it’s only Ben who follows me up the stairs.

  Every time I hear a noise, my heart jumps in my throat, thinking he’s going to come barrelling through the door. But he never does. When a key does slide in the lo
ck while we’re on the sofa trying to watch TV, it’s Jenny who appears in the doorway, looking her usual self. She’s does a double take when she sees Ben’s black eye and cut lip, but she doesn’t ask. I know for a fact it’s not the first time he’s come home after fighting. After asking us if we’re okay, she turns to leave.

  “Where’s Dad?” I ask before she disappears.

  “A golf weekend with a client, sweetheart. He won’t be back until tomorrow.”

  Ben’s eyes burn into the back of my head, and when I turn around, he mouths, Golf weekend?

  Shaking my head, I stand. I need to do something or I’m going to go stir-crazy waiting for him to appear.

  “What are you doing?” Ben asks in a panic when I go to leave the room.

  “Going for a walk.”

  “Wait. I’ll come.”

  “No.” He looks totally taken aback by my refusal, but I just need a few minutes to myself. “I just need—”

  “It’s okay. I get it. I’ll be here when you get back.”

  “Promise?”

  “Of course.”

  Sliding on a pair of trainers, I leave the house and head off down the street. I’ve no route in mind. All I know is that I need to move. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I look down at all the notifications. To my surprise, almost all of them are from Mum. Ignoring the missed calls and voicemails, I open my messages.

  Mum: Your dad just called. Are you okay?

  Mum: Honey, please just let me know you’re safe.

  Mum: Lauren. I’m worried. Ring me back.

  There’s a whole stream of messages from her, and I feel awful that she’s been dragged into this, and even worse that I’ve given her a reason to worry.

  “Lauren, are you okay?” she asks in a rush the second she answers the phone.

  “Yes, I’m fine. I’m so sorry. We left our phones in the car. If I knew he’d called you I never would have—”

  “It’s okay, as long as you’re okay.”

  “I am.” I ignore the throbbing that comes from the purple bruise on my temple. Bringing that up would only anger her more.

  “What the hell happened?”