Forbidden: A Romance Anthology

by Yolanda Olson

  But I’m not, and she is.

  When Texas lets her in and she disappears, I ball my hands into fists. I’m not angry or annoyed with her. No, I’m angry with myself. This would have been easier if I didn’t ask Whit to lie. She would have had the conversation with Primrose too, and it would have changed how I feel at this very moment.

  Pulling out my cell, I call her. She’s the only person I can talk to. She understands. She’s forgiving, and she will know what to do.

  “Dev?” her voice sounds out from the other end.

  “Hey, Whit. Got a minute?”

  I hear a door closing and then she’s back.

  “What’s up?” She sounds concerned, which only makes me love her more. We were best friends for so long. It’s why I trusted her to have sex with. I don’t want Texas and Prim to go through that. It would kill me.

  “I think I’m in love?” It comes out like a question, and I hear a small chuckle from Whit.

  “Sounds like you’re as unsure as I am if that’s a statement or question.”

  I laugh derisively, hating myself at this moment. She’s easy to talk to, yet this is the hardest thing I’ve ever discussed.

  “I met someone last night.”

  “Last night? That must be why Rosie called sounding upset. Did you not come home?”

  Whit knows me too well, almost better than I know myself. She waits for me to answer, also understanding me enough to know I need a moment.

  “I didn’t. Fell asleep at the bar,” I explain, running a palm through my hair and tugging a little to ground myself. She must be nodding. She and Prim have that in common. They nod, forgetting they’re on the phone and not in person.

  “You remember when I met Nick, right?”

  Her question is airy with that feeling of nostalgia and romance. She’s such a romantic at heart. How she stayed so long is beyond me.

  Not waiting for my answer, she continues, “We were both in Olvier for that night, me for that deposition, him because he needed an escape.”

  I remember this story like yesterday. She called me right after it happened, asking me what to do.

  “You guys bumped into each other in the lobby of Fort Inn Plaza,” I offer. “He caught you as you tripped over his bag, trying to read the map in your hand.”

  She giggles at my explanation. It’s such a light sound coming from her. The happiness-filled noise makes me grin wider than I have in a while.

  “You were in his arms, and he kissed you, said he couldn’t help himself—”

  She cuts me off. “Technically, he asked. Said, ‘you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. Can I kiss you?’ Of course I laughed, but I could see how serious he was, and I nodded.”

  “You ran away.” I chuckle, remembering that. “Called me for advice. Said you’ve never felt this way before. He practically whisked you off your feet.”

  “I knew right then and there. Even though I was scared and calling you, I knew. Yeah, it was a simple kiss. Maybe even a cheesy love at first sight thing, but I felt it then. I still feel it now.”

  Her story, the memory of it was exactly what I needed.

  “Thank you, Whit.”

  “You’re welcome, Dev. Don’t let him go. You deserve to find love, too.”

  The shit-eating grin won’t leave my face as we hang up and I think of my little prince and his honey eyes.

  It’s getting late, really late.

  When I open my bedroom door, I notice the lights are off everywhere besides the living room. Prim sits cuddled in blankets, watching her favorite teen drama, Riverdale. How I can remember the name? I can’t tell you, but she spent hours explaining the entire plot to me and how much she loved Cheryl. I don’t know who Cheryl is, but my daughter thinks she’s cool.

  I sneak over to the room Texas now homes and don’t knock before entering. It’s silent as I close the door without a sound. Turning around, I see him in the dimly lit room, laying on his back with his arm over his eyes. His ears are plugged with earbuds, and he must not hear me.

  For a moment, I take advantage of the opportunity to just watch him, relaxed, on a big bed, only a lamp on to light the room. He seems less depressed like this. It’s almost like my sad boy needs the quiet for peace and has a hard time finding it.

  I walk toward Texas, enjoying the view of him with only jeans on. His tattoos that I never paid attention to last night are completely visible now. One day, I’ll ask him what they mean. Sometimes, they mean nothing. Other times, they have stories.

  Unable to help myself, I stare at his hard chest and the plains and dips of his muscles that lead to his pebbled, pierced nipples. They may be my favorite part of his body. The little black barbells make me do crazy things.

  My eyes travel to the first bruise or, rather, hickey. Which is still a bruise, just the enjoyable kind. There are many littered all over his throat, chest, and his ear. I just can’t see that one with his hair covering it.

  He goes to move, his arms raising, when he notices me. His body jolts a little, making the bed squeak before he pulls out his music. Placing a finger to my lips, I hush him. A look of understanding crosses his face as he adjusts and sits up. I’m vaguely aware that I’m moving closer to him, reluctant to keep my distance. Sitting on the lip of the bed closest to him, I go to talk but end up opening and closing my mouth several times.

  “Pussy got your tongue, Dev?” he taunts.

  Did he somehow hear Whitney and I on the phone? I didn’t see him if so. My phone didn’t seem that loud. She’s the only one who calls me that. Always has.

  “I’ll allow that snide remark because I know what it’s like to feel suffocated by wanting something someone else has,” I muse, watching him narrow his eyes.

  I must’ve hit the nail on the head considering he bites the inside of his lip ring, making his lip dip inward. To be able to tug on that freely, that’s what would make me pleased right now.

  “Are you bisexual?” he asks without a preamble, throwing it out there like it’s an easy question for anyone to answer. Sexuality is a mystery to most, even a man like me.

  “No. I identify as gay,” I reply slowly, enunciating every word. “Whit—the one I was on the phone with—is my ex-wife. She was also my best friend, like you and Primrose.” Letting out a heavy sigh, I scratch my chin then hold it while leaning my elbow on my thigh. “I’ve known for a long time that I’m not into women, even when I slept with Whitney. But I trusted her to try. I’m not sure how to explain it, but I knew she’d understand my struggles somehow if I couldn’t...”

  My eyes shut with the cringy memories.

  “Well, I was sixteen and dumb. We had sex. We’d already stopped talking after that awkward situation. Low and behold, three months later, she called to tell me she was pregnant. We got married before Primrose came. I wanted to be there for her.”

  It all comes out in a rush, and I see understanding through his eyes.

  “We stayed together until Prim was twelve,” I mutter sheepishly, feeling a huge weight leave as the words tumble free. “I tried to love her that way, to please her body the way she wanted…”

  He grimaces at me with that, his face displeased.

  “You slept with her?” It sounds more like a choke as he rubs a palm down his face, fisting the sheets a moment later.

  “Not as often as I’m sure a normal couple would, but I wanted to satisfy her—to make her happy. It’s the least I could do.”

  His face isn’t showing happiness. It’s almost upset and chagrined.

  “What happened?” he whispers. It’s so light I barely hear it.

  “I was in Olvier with her. We were at a hotel, scouting out bars. I’d already owned mine for some time. It was more to see how I could branch out and make more. We already were fairly loaded. We lived comfortable lives, but I wanted to leave this place.” I rub the back of my neck uncomfortably. “I went to the pool while she was sleeping. Left her a note that I’d be up there.”

  He nods, waitin
g for me. I don’t know how to admit it, how to continue.

  “And?” he prods, seeing my hesitation.

  “I met a man. His name was Victor. He was from out of town, visiting for ski season. We flirted. A lot.”

  My stomach hurts thinking of this. For all those years, I didn’t watch porn. Didn’t touch a man, or do anything unfaithful. Because in my heart, I knew.

  “He made me harder than a rock,” I admit, feeling as much shame now as I did then.

  Texas leans into me, brushing his hand against my pants. “Like this?” He rubs back and forth, making me solid in a few breaths.

  “Yes,” I hiss then shake my head. “No, not like this.” A groan rises as he grips me with possessiveness. I love this feeling, the anger in his eyes, the need to claim what’s his. “Nothing feels like this.”

  He takes my mouth with that, rubbing my length fervently. I’m groaning and humping his hand for friction.

  He wrenches back, and it’s like losing all oxygen in my system. We’re fire, him and I. We can’t exist without oxygen, but it also absorbs all the air at the same time, siphoning our essence away. We’re both panting, and if our dicks are any show of good faith, we’re both horny and eager.

  Instead of waiting for him, I shove into him, planting both my palms at either side of his head.

  “Nothing,” I growl. “Feels like you or us.”

  A smirk plays at his lips, and I fucking kiss it, marveling at this man beneath me. I’m unable to stay away for any longer. He has me twisted up. Texas moans loudly, and it occurs to me we have to keep silent. Placing a palm over his mouth, I hope for my own strength.

  “Be quiet, little prince. Don’t need our princess hearing how much you like to take my cock.”

  He closes his eyes as if in pain, and I grind into him, forcing them back open.

  “Watch me as I fuck you, Texas. Because I’ll be the last man to ever have you. You’re mine. Do you understand me?” I rasp, feeling my heart catapult at my own words.

  He bites my palm and forces me to remove it.

  “That goes for you too, bartender,” he growls avariciously. It’s the sexiest I’ve heard his voice. Even with me deep inside him last night, it doesn’t touch the intensity now. “This is my cock—” His palm slips under my pants and fists my solid length, and the roughness of his hand abrades my skin in a delirious way. “—and only I’m allowed to pleasure it, fuck it, and make it cum.”

  I groan, biting his throat to avoid being too loud. He slides his palm up and down, rubbing my precum everywhere. He’s not as unpracticed as I would think.

  His grip loosens and lowers as he squeezes my balls, making them tighten in response. We fuck with our mouths, our tongues thrashing as we fight for the power of domination. He’s good with his tongue, and it makes me wonder if he’d suck me off well.

  Rising off him, I remove his hand. “Have you ever taken a cock down your throat, little prince?”

  His eyes darken, but I already know the answer.

  “I’ll teach you.” My mouth nearly salivates with the offer. My voice sounds nearly inhuman with how predatory the words come out of my mouth.

  He simpers and gets off the bed, lowering to his knees.

  “Good princes take their king’s cock,” I explain.

  “The best princes make their king weak for their prince’s mouth,” he argues with confidence.

  “Guess it’s a good thing your king likes your mouth,” I hiss before he’s taking off my pants.

  My eyes meet his, and my heart swells. This is what I’ve been searching for, a little prince to please me.

  Chapter Nine

  TEXAS

  How he challenges me with a look of utter ecstasy isn’t something I can forget. As I lower to my knees, I see the adoration mixed with juxtaposed desperation on his face. It’s unadulterated, passionate, needy. He wants this. He wants me.

  Looking up at him through my eyelashes, I remove his pants and boxers in one go but take my sweet time dragging them down, making his impatience grow. His jaw ticks as I’m sure his dick throbs too.

  After he kicks them off, he brings the tip of his engorged head to my mouth, painting me with precum. I lick the salty bead at the tip then my lips for good measure.

  A low rumble is all I can hear as I lick a long trail from his head to his balls. The flavor is something I’ll forever crave and the feel of him against my tongue feels as memorable as the tattoos inked across my skin.

  I draw him into my mouth, only a little, testing my gag reflex. As nothing bothers me, even though I feel my jaw may split, I take more and more of his length. He pats my head reverently.

  “Such a good sad boy. Relax and take more,” he coos, making my body warm.

  As I relax my jaw, he goes deeper. Then, he grips my hair, pulling tightly. Arching into him, I groan around his rigid length and see how his head is bowed backward. He’s enjoying this. My dick swells in approval as I move for him, putting my palms on his thighs for support.

  He growls and jerks me off him.

  “Fuck. Slow. Go slow.”

  His voice is broken, and it’s sexy hearing him lose control.

  He places my mouth back around him, and I keep going, not decelerating. I want him to feel how I felt earlier, limbless, numb from pure pleasure, and at my mercy.

  His hips pick up pace as he fucks my mouth, and when I think he’ll finally blow, gifting me his salty tang, he pulls out, massaging my head for a minute while his chest rises and falls shakily. He stares down at me, a king to his prince. A ruler to his subject. A lover to his lover.

  He helps me up and stares at me in wonder. “Get undressed. I’ll be back.”

  Without another word, he puts on his bottoms and leaves. I hurry out of my pants and socks as he’s gone. He’s quiet, so much so that I don’t hear him in the other room, only when my door barely clicks back open and closed as he comes back in only boxers. His toned stomach has scratch marks, and his thighs have little bruises already showing from my grip on them a moment ago.

  I’m sprawled out on the bed when he saunters to me, his steps purposefully, his eyes greedy, and his cock tenting his boxers. He kneels on the bed, now naked, and crawls to me with a predatory gaze. Chills sweep my frame in response.

  “Why can’t I stay away, little prince? Why do I want to sink inside you and never leave?”

  It’s rhetorical, but I need to know too.

  “I’m not sure, but I want that too. Sink into me and never let me go.”

  He sighs almost happily. Then he’s above me and trailing kisses to my nipples. Bringing a bud to his mouth, he bites, sending a sting of pleasure through me. He repeats his action with my other nipple all while slowly lowering, biting and leaving kisses along the way.

  When he makes it to my hips, I have to swallow back a moan while he taunts me. I bow my hips upward, begging for some sort of friction. Devin looks up at me, and I watch in awe as he takes my entire length in his mouth in one practiced move.

  My eyes roll back, pure bliss sizzling up and down my spine. His mouth makes a pop when he releases me. That’s when I notice a bottle of lube. With half-lidded eyes, I watch his face lower to my ass. He forces my thighs upward. My knees bend on their own accord.

  “We didn’t eat dinner, little prince. I’m fucking famished,” he grits out before spreading my cheeks and delving between them.

  A low groan releases, and he pinches my cheek in warning. His tongue penetrates my hole, poking and probing and I writhe beneath him. Without him even touching my dick, I feel like I might explode.

  I’m not sure when he lubed up his fingers, but his mouth is replaced by one then two. As he stretches me, my back curves into the air. It’s not discomfort. It’s pure pleasure.

  After he gets a third into me, he’s lubing his cock and probing my entrance.

  “Try and be quiet, little prince. I know how you like to scream around my cock.”

  “Please,” I beg, wanting the fullness he of
fers. “Please fuck me.”

  He eases in. Unlike last night, it’s gentle as he lifts my legs and settles in me.

  There’s only one porn I’ve ever watched like this. Men tend to fuck from behind, not face to face, but seeing the expression of awe on his face has my dick pulsing in a way it never has never before.

  His hips meet the back of my thighs, and I’m so full of him I could cry. The connection we have is a driving force. It takes away the sad and replaces it with yearning.

  “Watch me as I make you mine, Texas. Squeeze my cock for me.”

  I tighten around him and watch his abs flex as he restrains himself. He moves and hits my prostate, and I’m unable to hold back my rapturous cry. That sets him off. One second, he’s giving me slow thrusts, and then he’s pistoning into me.

  Thrust. Slap. Thrust.

  I try moving with him, but he’s chasing his own high.

  “Devin,” I moan. “Fuck, Devin.”

  His eyes stay with mine as he keeps his pace. Sweat lines his forehead, and when his mouth meets mine, he fists me and pumps my erection in tandem with his hips.

  We’re rutting, groaning, and working ourselves over until we both slow. His seed fills me. The warmth of it satisfies me, marking me. My cum sprays our stomachs, spurting swift and long strokes, and he keeps going until we’re both out of breath and spent.

  He hasn’t even left my body before we hear a scream.

  “Tex?”

  Her high-pitched screech has me frozen. I can see her from around Devin. Her face is pale as she rubs at her eyes. She closes them and runs out just as quickly, slamming the door. It shakes the frame, or maybe that’s my heart. Either way, everything feels raw and deafening.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Devin hisses as he exits me slowly.

  The loss of him inside me leaves me feeling absolutely empty. Something about the way she looked and the lost expression on his face has me worried this will end before it really started.

  He throws on his boxers and rushes out of the room. Before I know it, I’m rocking back and forth on the bed, crying uncontrollably. It was my groaning. It was my pleasure that did this. I’m sick and fucking ruined. I’ve messed everything up. For me, for her, for them.