The Other Brother Part 1: Forbidden

by Lauren Hawkeye

  Tucking my house key into a small pocket in my shorts, I bounded out of my room and ran right into a man just outside my bedroom door.

  My heart leapt into my throat. “Jesus.”

  “I’m sorry. Are you all right?”

  I laughed although I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Patrick. What are you doing up here?”

  “I came up to tell you I was here in the office, and that Hannah and Mark had gone out to a showing.”

  “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “I guess I should’ve waited until you came down again.” He gave me a lop-sided grin that made my belly clench just a little.

  “You think?”

  I wasn’t angry at him. Patrick was a good guy. He worked for my mom and step-dad and was at the house almost every day. So I’d known him for at least year now. I liked him being around, especially when my parents were gone. Not that I didn’t like being home alone, I did most days, but sometimes, I liked knowing there was someone downstairs that would help me if I needed it. Patrick was a stand-up guy, and in didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes.

  My mom would kill me if she knew I’d harbored a few fantasies about Patrick. The guy was tall and lean, and wore the shit out of his suit. And his eyes were bluer than the sky sometimes and when he looked at me through the lens of his thick black-rimmed glasses, I swore they lit up just a little.

  Even though he was six years older than me, I was eighteen now, so I figured I could fantasize about him all I wanted. He was fair game when I masturbated.

  “I checked in the office when I first got home. I didn’t see you.”

  He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. He seemed a little nervous. “Oh, I must’ve been in the bathroom.”

  We walked down the stairs together.

  “How was school?”

  “Okay. My history teacher threw a fit in class today. Ivy thought Napoleon was a type of ice cream.”

  Patrick laughed. “Well, she’s not the brightest bulb on the tree.”

  I slapped his arm. “Hey. I thought you were a nice guy.”

  “I am a nice guy.” He grinned. “So you glad it’s almost over?”

  “Yeah, only thirty three more days.”

  “Then what’s the plan?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “What about NYU?”

  I shrugged. I had yet to tell my mom that I didn’t want to go. “We’ll see.”

  Patrick adjusted his glasses. “I won’t keep you any longer from your run.”

  “Thanks Pat. I’ll see you later.”

  After my run, I felt a little better. My mind was definitely clearer even if my thighs and shins ached from pushing myself so hard. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, cracked it and chugged half of it down. I wiped at my mouth, then drained the rest.

  “Have a good run?”

  Startled, I spun around to see Mark behind me, munching on an orange.

  “Good. How was the showing?”

  He frowned. “How did you know we had one?”

  “Pat told me. He was doing up some paper work when I came home from school.”

  “Really? I thought he left when we did.”

  “He was probably trying to impress the boss with his diligence. You know what a slave driver the boss is.”

  He snickered. “Yeah, your mother can be quite the tyrant.”

  My mom entered just as he finished his sentence. She was smiling. “You better not be talking about me.”

  Mark shrugged. “See what I mean?”

  I laughed. I liked how Mark and my mom could joke around with each other one minute and be loving the next. I liked that Mark’s eyes always lit up when my mom walked into the room. It made me happy that my mom had found love again after my dad had died. And that I had found another adult I could depend on. Mark had once told me he’d always be there for me no matter what. And I believed him. He was fiercely loyal like that I noticed.

  That made me think about Jordan. Maybe I would find something better, a relationship that was based on something other than high school standards, high school ideals. I wanted a guy who made my heart race. A guy who could make me feel everything. All Jordan had ever really made me feel was frustrated and bored.

  My mom handed me a red envelope. “This was left for you in the mail box.”

  My name was scrawled across it in neat flowing handwriting.

  “Is that from Jordan?” Mark asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe. Except this isn't really his style.”

  “Maybe he's changing?”

  I shook my head. “Doubtful. I know how much you liked him, but I don't foresee a fancy little garden wedding in the future.”

  “That's okay. I don't want to give you away, anyhow.” He put an arm around me and pulled me in to kiss my on the top of my head. It was something my dad had always done. “You’re all mine.”

  I gave him a smile and pulled away gently. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I wasn’t comfortable with his actions. It was the first time he’d done that, and it made my stomach clench a little.

  “I’m going to go do some homework.”

  I ran up the stairs to my room. Once inside, I shut the door and sat on my bed. I fingered the envelope, almost dreading opening it. I really hated that Jordan wouldn’t let go. It wasn’t endearing to me, it was stubborn and selfish.

  Finally, I opened it and slid out the single piece of paper and read the words written on it.

  The Nymph that undoes me, is fair and unkind;

  No less than a wonder by Nature designed.

  She's the grief of my heart, the joy of my eye ;

  And the cause of a flame that never can die !

  Her mouth, from whence wit still obligingly flows,

  Has the beautiful blush, and the smell, of the rose.

  Love and Destiny both attend on her will;

  She wounds with a look; with a frown, she can kill!

  The desperate Lover can hope no redress;

  Where Beauty and Rigour are both in excess!

  In Violet they meet; so unhappy am I!

  Who sees her must love; and who loves her must die!

  I knew the poem was a famous one, I just didn’t know who wrote it. There was no way Jordan or any other guy could write something like that. It was both beautiful and creepy, and it gave me a bit of uneasy feeling. This was probably not the result the sender was hoping for. It was the last line that made me queasy, that and the fact he put my name in the poem.

  Someone knocked at my door. Then it opened and my mom peeked in. “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  She sat on the bed beside me. “Was it from Jordan?”

  “I don’t know. It’s unsigned. But I don’t think so.”

  “A secret admirer maybe?” She smiled and nudged me in the side.

  I shrugged. “It’s weird.”

  “No it’s exciting.” My mom wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Maybe there’s some romantic boy out there too shy to reveal himself.”

  “Yeah, Mom, that’s creepy, not romantic.”

  “You girls are so jaded now.” She sighed, then stood up.

  When she was gone, I lie back on my bed and read the poem again. Maybe this was romantic. Maybe this was a gesture from some guy hopelessly in love with me. If only.

  I shook my head and let the paper fall from my fingers. I wished I had my phone so I could call Dahlia and Ivy about it. Unfortunately I busted it and it was in getting repaired. I could use the landline, but decided I’d tell them tomorrow.

  Tonight I was just going to chillax and forget about boys and love and relationships. I was going to grab all the junk food I could find in the house, and watch season two of Sherlock. Tonight was all about my fake boyfriend Sherlock Holmes and his adorable love interest John Watson.

  Violet is Blue—available free now!

  Read on for an excerpt from Three Little Words, Book 1 in the Three Li
ttle Words series from Lauren Hawkeye, now free at all retailers.

  MAL

  She was back.

  I leaned back in the uncomfortable library chair in what I hoped was a casual manner. I stretched, something I actually needed to do after five hours hunched over my textbooks, but I was really just using the movement as an excuse to stare.

  An excuse to stare at her.

  After weeks of studying her in quick looks and hidden glances, there shouldn’t have been anything new to see, yet I found my gaze dragged to her anyway.

  Her hair was long, a riot of silky waves that made my fingers itch to touch. Those waves were so red that they couldn’t have been natural, but it still suited her.

  In contrast, her skin was pale, a creamy white that looked like it never saw the sun. Lots of it was visible, since she wore tight, low slung jeans and some skimpy little top with straps no wider than a piece of spaghetti. Yep, wide expanses of skin open to my hungry eyes.

  Even more than the skin, I was fascinated by the ink that was etched onto it.

  Brightly colored flowers sleeved her arms. I didn’t have a clue what kinds they were, but I knew that they suited her.

  I wanted to run my fingers over them, to trace the brilliant, gem colored petals and stems. It was an urge that didn’t sit comfortably. No matter how hot she was, girls with tattoos weren’t my type.

  I’d had ‘my type’ carved out for me since birth.

  Tugging my stare away, I looked back at my textbook. The black print and yellow highlighter swam in front of my eyes. I blinked once, hard, and snuck another quick glance at her.

  This time she was looking back. The expression on her face, in those insanely blue eyes was slightly mocking, daring me to say something, or even to just smile.

  A jolt rocketed through me as I felt myself pulled into the intensity of that stare. I tried to open my mouth, to say something, but the words stuck in my throat.

  Finally I tore my stare away, mortified. I felt my cheeks flush, not such a manly look for a dude.

  I seriously had to get this... obsession, or whatever it was... under control, or I was going to have to find a new place to study. Though I still didn’t understand why she hung out here, in the law library. She could have been prelaw, I supposed, but I’d certainly never seen her in any of my classes. I would have noticed. Not to mention that... well... she just didn’t look like law school was her big calling. There were exceptions, true enough, but most of the people that I crammed into those massive lecture theatres with were a bit more on the conservative side than the redheaded goddess seated down the table.

  More conservative... more like me.

  Focus, I told myself, trying to shake her from my mind. It didn’t matter how much she fascinated me, nothing was ever going to happen in that direction. I wasn’t even sure that I wanted it to.

  She was hot. I wanted her. But I couldn’t imagine us together. I had a preconceived notion of my life, a five year plan, and a sexy redhead with tattoos didn’t fit into it.

  The scent hit me first. Wild and sweet, the perfume teased the insides of my nose, heated my gut.

  I swallowed thickly, bracing myself, then looked up to find the gorgeous creature from my most prurient daydreams, sitting across the table from me.

  “Hey,” she said, and her voice was exactly like I’d pictured it, smoky and full of sex.

  “Hi.” My own voice sounded strangled. I took a deep breath, exhaled through my nose, and tried to calm the fuck down.

  “Don’t you ever take a break?” She leaned over and drummed her fingers on the open page of my textbook. Those ropes of red hair brushed over the tops of her breasts as she did, and I had a sudden mental picture of that vivid scarlet against the heat of my cock.

  Bad Mal. Focus.

  “Well?” She repeated her question, and I blinked, struck dumb by the twilight zone of having the object of my affection actually talking to me.

  And now that she was, she was going to think I was a total dumb ass.

  “I have a lot of studying to do.” Man, that sounded lame. I settled back in my chair and raked a hand through my chestnut colored hair, which was likely sticking straight up after so many hours in the library. “Prelaw. You know.”

  “I don’t, actually. I’m in nursing.” She tossed that long hair over her shoulder, and I watched, mesmerized, as the breasts revealed by that skimpy top jiggled with the movement. “I just like to study here.”

  Pinning me with a look that I couldn’t tear myself away from, she grinned and sank her teeth into her lower lip. “It’s got a great view.”

  Holy hell. Did that mean what I thought it meant?

  “Don’t you have to study in nursing? Isn’t that why you’re here?” Way to go, Mal. I flinched inwardly as the most boring words ever poured out of my mouth.

  But that was me—studious. Driven. Headed for an Ivy League law school, ideally the one my father had attended so many years ago.

  In a word... boring.

  I thought she’d make a face, one of those ones that girls do when they suddenly realize that the guy they’ve been talking to is a complete dud. Instead she surprised me by tilting her chair back and laughing. I didn’t get the impression that she was laughing at me.

  “Yes, I have to study.” She grinned and let the chair fall flat again, the resultant thunk echoing through the silence of the library. “But I believe in taking breaks from time to time.”

  I had no idea what to say to that, so I just nodded my head like an idiot.

  Leaning forward like she was about to share a deep, dark secret with me, she pointed to the front of the library. The entire wall and doors were made of glass, with a clear view of the street and campus beyond.

  “See that building across the street? The shit brown one?” She pointed; I squinted. I didn’t see as well with my contacts in as I did when I wore my glasses, but the guys in my fraternity poked fun at me when I wore the thick plastic frames.

  I nodded again, warily, not sure where she was going with this.

  “I live there. I have coffee. And I’m heading there right now.” She stood, the neon lights of the library illuminating those floral tattoos.

  Why was I so drawn to those tattoos?

  When I tore my gaze from the ink to look at her face, I found that she was watching me with amusement. “Interested?”

  “I—” I sputtered a bit, wishing so hard to be cooler than I was. At first I thought she was calling me on my bullshit, asking me if I was interested in her.

  I didn’t lie. I was crazy interested, even if I didn’t want to be. She was like a bright butterfly flitting through the black and white television show that was my life.

  She quirked an eyebrow at me when she caught my quizzical look, and I realized she was referring to the coffee she’d offered. She cast another grin my way, then started to gather up her stuff. I stood, reaching out and catching her around the waist before she walked away.

  The thin cotton of her tank top stood between my fingers and her skin, but the flash of heat that passed between us burned me.

  “Wait. What’s your name?” Slowly I let my fingers fall. It was hard to break the contact.

  She watched my hand fall, then studied me for a moment, as if trying to see inside my head.

  “I’m Adele.” She cocked her head to one side, clearly waiting for me to reciprocate.

  “Malachi. Mal. Malachi Hunter.” Man, why did I feel like I was trying to speak a different language around her? I tried to phrase my next sentence in my head before blurting it out, but she winked at me and turned to saunter across the library floor, heading towards that front door.

  “See you if I see you, Mal.”

  I sat back down in my seat and watched her walk away. She had one of the sexiest asses I’d ever seen, and my mouth watered.

  Why had she invited me over? Was it really for coffee? Or was it for something more?

  I had no business going to find out, and yet I barely had
time to wonder before my body found itself slamming my textbook closed and throwing my things into my backpack.

  I could tell myself that she wasn’t my type all I wanted, but the fact remained that I couldn’t wait to find out.

  Three Little Words, available free now!

  And check out this steamy excerpt from At His Service by Tawny and Lauren’s good friend, the amazing Suzanne Rock!

  Shit, shit, shit. Karin glanced around the bathroom. There was nowhere to hide. She clutched the cell phone to her chest and squeezed behind the door. Leo breezed past her into the room and turned on the hot water in the large tub. Steam rolled up from the marble basin, filling the small space. Karin held her breath as Leo undid the buttons of his suit coat and shrugged it onto the floor.

  He’s undressing. Karin tried to force her muscles to move, but they refused to listen. She watched as Leo placed his glass of scotch on the floor and then peeled off his layers of clothing, one by one.

  For once, Karin didn’t mind the mess. Wes was right, the Perconti brothers were sinfully handsome, and the oldest brother was the best looking of the lot. His tan stretched up his muscular arms, around his perfectly formed shoulders, and down his lean, angular back. Even his firm, tight ass was a golden color, putting delicious thoughts of Leo sunbathing nude in her mind.

  She could easily picture his sleek body stretching out on some Italian beach, soaking up the sun. Karin wondered what it would feel like to press up against such a flawless physique and feel those solid hips between her legs.

  She dropped her gaze down his torso as he turned toward the marble tub. Dark hair dotted his chest and lower abdomen, drawing her attention to his long, thick cock. Karin’s heartbeat drummed in her ears as he stepped into the bath. Something fluttered inside her as she imagined crawling in alongside him and running soap along his athletic frame.

  Oh God, she needed to focus. It had been far too long since she’d had sex, even longer since she’d had great sex. Looking at the grace and muscular beauty of Leo Perconti’s body, she knew that a night with him would go a long way toward alleviating all of the stress that had been building up inside of her.

  A dull ache formed between her thighs as she imagined straddling his hips and taking his hard cock deep inside her channel. She reached down her torso and pressed her hand against her mound and imagined his muscular body pressing up against hers. Embarrassment at her boldness heated her cheeks.