Forbidden: A Romance Anthology

by Yolanda Olson

  Fuck. What have I done?

  My body heaves as I start hyperventilating. Within seconds, I’m rushing to pack my shit before they can come back. I’ve already destroyed everything. I’ve fucked it all up. This is why I don’t make friends. It’s why I keep my distance, and it’s why, in the eyes of the world, I’m straight and unavailable.

  I’m so sorry, Prim… Devin… everyone. I get all my stuff in one go and leave the room. They’re not in the living room, so I take that opening, grab my keys, and leave. I’ve got no money, no family, and now no Loveless clan.

  The tears continue to fall as I get to my car and turn it on. My entire chest rips in two as my car backs away, leaving half at this house with a man who has stolen every piece of me.

  Chapter Ten

  DEVIN

  My moves are frantic all the way toward my room. I throw on pants and a shirt, not checking if they’re on correctly or even matching or appropriate for the cold. The only desire rushing through me is the hope to catch my daughter before she leaves. If she’s anything like me, she’ll storm out in an attempt to cool off. Her mom has always been the level-headed one, but Prim and I tend to go off emotions, using them as our fuel, driving us to whatever destination we rush into.

  That’s the thing with miscommunication and lies. They tear people apart from anonymity alone. Being dishonest with her shouldn’t have happened. It’s just like her loving Texas. My heart can’t pick who to love either. It just happens. It’s natural, and it’s unexplainable.

  Precautions… Usually, I take many, whether it’s driving hours away or meeting at a hotel. It’s for her protection. Being careless can singlehandedly be put on my shoulders. No matter my strong feelings toward my little prince, I’m an idiot for thinking we could sneak around. I should have held him down and covered his mouth. Fuck, I should have just kept my distance and not fuck her best friend, especially while she was here. What kind of father am I?

  Guilt eats at me, gnawing like a tick in the woods. It’s bitter, feeling that blistering pain of misguided emotions. I’ve got to apologize. Then, if need be, I’ll move out. I’m not willing to displace her for my pleasure.

  Regardless of my love for her, Texas stays. I want him. Wrong or not, he’s not someone I’m willing to give up, not even if my daughter needs that of me. I’m selfish enough to tell her no. Love comes so little in life, briefly, without cause. This is the first time I’m sure I’ve experienced it. He may be half my age, might even be in the closet like me, but I’ll do anything to keep him, even if moving to Vegas for my other bar is the only answer.

  Tears leak from my eyes. I’m not sure if they’re evidence of her pain, mine, or Tex’s. We’re all suffering now.

  Whit’s words repeat in my mind on replay. Don’t let him go. He can’t be a blip in my life. He’s too powerful for that. Cataclysmic. He’s an asteroid, bursting in through my atmosphere just to explode into a million pieces, destroying everything but him and me, making himself known forever.

  After searching the entire house, the only place I forget to check is her room. I knock twice and wait for a response.

  A minute of silence passes before she mutters, “Come in.”

  The sound of her sniffling makes me want to change everything. Be open with her. Prepare her for this. Somehow make her not fall in love with Texas.

  “Hey.” It’s a lame thing to say when it should be sorry or anything with more depth.

  Concern lines her face as sadness trails her cheeks. She’s red and puffy. The regret and guilt swallowing up her features shows me she’s sorry for overreacting. On my one hand, I can count how many times Primrose has had a tantrum or freak out. This is only the third. Even as a baby, she always seemed settled and calm. Sweet. My baby girl’s heart is massive. It’s always growing with a never-ending love for people.

  “I’m sorry I freaked out.” Her voice cracks as she apologizes.

  Fresh tears fall, and I approach her slowly, not wanting to invade her space if she’s freaked out. She doesn’t flinch or falter when I sit at the edge of her bed.

  “I should have told you.” It’s a whisper, but it brings a bite of shame, reminding me how much I’ve hidden. “I-I—”

  “It’s not my place to judge you for who you love, Dad, though it makes a lot of sense. But why him? Why the one guy that’s been nothing but perfect to me?” Her tone, as heartbroken as it sounds, seems strong, not destroyed. She’ll heal.

  “I can’t answer that for you,” I rasp, my throat clogged with emotion. She’s not even bothered that I’m into men. She’s only hurt that I got the guy. “We met by chance last night. When I went to work. I-It happened so fast. I’ve never—” I pause, struggling for words. “No one has ever made me feel this way. I’d never risk hurting you like this.”

  With my admission, she nods, her jaw clamped shut. If I could erase this pain, eradicate the imagery of me and Tex from her mind, I would. I would do whatever she needed.

  Except let him go. If that makes me a bad father, then I’m a bad fucking father.

  “It makes sense now. Why he never tried anything. Also, our conversation. You knew and were trying to protect me,” she says rhetorically, filling in her own blanks. “Never wanted that visual of you, though. Could live my entire life not seeing that.”

  I laugh, throwing my head back at her grimace. “I’d have rather you not have learned that way either,” I confirm. “I’m sorry that’s how you found out about me.”

  “Me too,” she mutters, wiping her face. Prim sits back against her headboard like she always used to, tucking her feet beneath her and covers herself with her pink comforter. “I wish you would have trusted me enough to let me in.”

  I choke up at that, feeling the burn of tears at the edge of my eyes. “What if you hated me?” I ask honestly, my heart hurting at the pictures I’d conjured the last seven years.

  She leans forward and places a hand on my knee. “You’re my dad. I’d never hate you.”

  The words are so open and honest that I’m breaking down. It’s amazing how such a simple response can bring a man to tears, but it’s the acceptance that’s making me emotional. All the years spent hiding, being unhappy, and unwilling to wreck her world for my happiness all leaks out of me.

  “Is Tex okay? He seemed really upset,” she says.

  I stare at her, remembering that I left him alone right after sleeping with him.

  “I’ve got to go,” I explain, standing up. “We can talk later?”

  She nods and shoos me.

  I’m not sure what I did to deserve such a perfect child, but I wouldn’t trade our relationship. She’s kind, considerate, and so open.

  I rush out of the room, open the guest door, and find it empty. I check the bathroom next and nothing.

  My heart beats too fast, and fear swims through me. He ran.

  After finding my keys, I rush to put on my shoes and coat before rushing out into the cool air. It’s pitch black. Clouds are hiding the moon and stars. As eerie as it is, somberness consumes me. Where would he go? We’ve only met. If anyone would know, it’d be Prim. I dial her, and she answers immediately.

  “He’s gone, isn’t he?” Her tone is sad, almost guilty, but it’s not her fault. It’s mine.

  “Do you know where he’d run if he felt cornered?”

  “He doesn’t have a home. Maybe he went to the cemetery? His mom is buried there.”

  “I’ll check. Anywhere else?”

  “I don’t think so. He always talked about how his dad hated him and his mom was the only person who cared. If he felt helpless, maybe he went to find peace?”

  “Thank you.”

  By the time I’m in my truck and back out of the drive, my worry has turned into dread. What if he isn’t at the cemetery? How will I possibly find him? Twenty-four hours ago, my biggest worry focused on a new place in Vegas. Now it’s stuck on a blue-haired prince who has stolen my heart. Why it happened so fast, so fiercely, and undeniably so, I’m no
t sure, but letting it slip away isn’t on the agenda.

  Once I hit Valley West Cemetery, I park and jump out. It’s even worse here. The darkness invades every crevice, expanding everywhere. Even with a little crack in the clouds, I can only see a foot or two in front of me. My phone illuminates the ground, and I see grass, graves, and rocks strewn about. The graves here range from ancient to new, back and forth, scattered in a weird pattern. The only sounds that fill my ears are the ground beneath my feet and the slow whistle of the wind. After walking for five minutes, I’m near desperate. It doesn’t help I’m not sure where her grave is or if he’s even here. Graves give me chills and an odd sense of being watched. Maybe it’s superstition, but the longer I’m here, the colder it feels.

  As I’m about to give up, I hear someone whimpering. The noise catches me off guard, but I circle my phone, searching for the source of it. When my gaze lands on a shaking form, I creep slowly, hoping it’s Tex and not some crazy rando who hangs out around dead things.

  When I get closer, I can see his blue hair clearly. Rushing him, I practically fall to get to him. His gaze shoots to me, and once the shock subsides, he stares at me in wonder. His eyes are red-rimmed, and he looks beyond exhausted.

  Touching his chin, I bring my mouth to his, needing to feel our connection, desperate for him to know I’m choosing him—us—whatever this is.

  His lips are ice and shuddering against mine. I reach for him, pulling him into my arms, enjoying the way he fits me perfectly. He feels like ice, freezing, all alone. Why did he come out here without a jacket? His hoodie isn’t enough for the biting temperatures tonight, let alone the wind and moisture in the air.

  “Why would you run, little prince? You scared me.” The words come out strained, showing how hurt I am.

  He shakes against me as I hold him. “S-She h-hates m-me,” he brokenly whispers, his teeth chattering. “My f-fault.”

  I kiss his head and help him up. “Let’s get you warm, baby.”

  He shakes harder, and I’m lifting him in response. I love the way he clings to me like I’m his savior. Like I’m his. I am. He can have me. Every fucked-up part.

  Carrying him to my truck takes longer than coming out here. Navigating without the light is miserable, but I try to watch my steps, hoping to not disturb any area. When we make it there, I open the door, and he raises himself in. After I close the door, I jump to my side and start the engine, turning the heater on. He shivers as my hands rub up and down his arms to warm him.

  “Primrose doesn’t hate you, Texas,” I finally state.

  She doesn’t. If anything, she’s more upset with herself for caring about us being together because you’re her best friend, than us being together because we’re gay.

  “She just felt like she lost us both in one night.”

  He eyes me with an I don’t believe you expression that has me smiling.

  “I’d never lie to you.”

  It’s true.

  I’ll always be open and honest.

  It’s my vow.

  “Do you hate me now? For hurting your relation—” he starts apologizing, but I interrupt.

  “Never. I’d never hate you, Texas. You didn’t hurt anything, baby. If anything, you fixed it, bridging a gap I set by keeping my sexuality from her. She’ll be okay. Time is all she needs.”

  “You called me baby twice,” he murmurs softly, his face a little flushed. Whether it’s from the nickname or the cold, it’s a good color on him.

  “That’s because, in this short time, you’ve become everything to me,” I admit. “It’s fast, I know, but—”

  He stops me. “I feel the same way.”

  We lean in at the same time, bringing our lips together. It’s not erogenous, but quick and furtive.

  “I love you, Texas Silver. If that makes me a mad man, then I’m a fucking lunatic.”

  He chuckles, capturing my jaw reverently. “I love you too, Devin Loveless. Even if your last name is a lie.”

  Epilogue

  DEVIN

  Loveless. An eight-letter word.

  The mentality that there’s no love in the heart.

  What a lie our last name is.

  Texas and Devin Loveless, two men fated for one another.

  Subconsciously, I roll my ring between my thumb and forefinger, loving the weight of it. It’s heavy almost, but a good kind of heavy.

  When Whit and I married, it felt like a shackle, a suffocating device that hid me from the world and everything I wished for but couldn’t obtain.

  My little prince and I tied the knot six months ago. We flew to California and had a beach wedding. We eloped last minute, and Prim came to the celebration dinner to congratulate us both.

  It’s beautiful seeing my husband love my daughter as ferociously as I do. Even now, they’re best friends, just more open than before. Tex and I moved to Vegas after our honeymoon, Prim decided to stay and build her own path. She still visits us. Me and Tex started helping with Loveless so Dusty can breathe. We cut the Drink More portion of the title before opening and made it one word. It’s already one of the biggest party spots on the strip. With how fast it’s rising up, I’ll be expanding across the US in no time.

  “Dreading the fact that you can’t run from me, bartender?” Tex muses, leaning against the door frame of our balcony, his shirtless abs flexing as he interrupts my overwhelmed mind.

  I can’t help but stare at his chest and the newest tattoo that matches mine, covering our hearts. Love More not Less. My perusal doesn’t stop there, though. It’s stuck on the little black piercings begging to be pleasured.

  With my mouth.

  He smirks, biting his lip slowly. “How can I taunt you when you look at me like that?” he asks sheepishly, his face flushing.

  Even after a year, I can still make him blush.

  He runs a hand through his light sandy blond hair. After the blue and black started to fade, he stripped the color and went to a baser tone that matched as close as his natural hair as he could. In a way, I miss the blue and black, but this makes his honey eyes almost seem inhuman. They’re vibrant, endless, and perfect. The sun shines on us as we stare at each other, waiting for one to make a move.

  Instead of answering, I rise off the lounger and stroll toward him like he’s the prey. Maybe he is, or maybe he’s been the hunter this entire time. Guess it’s time to test that theory, huh?

  “We both know you’re the one stuck.”

  He stares at me in awe. It’s something I haven’t quite gotten used to.

  I lick his throat, making sure to nip my favorite spot where his shoulder and neck connect, and he moans.

  “Being adventurous, Mister Loveless?” he asks.

  “Feeling daring, Mister Loveless?” I return with a smirk.

  His smile reaches his eyes. No more is my boy sad. No, he thrives, lives, and wants to watch as the sun shines on his face.

  “I’m willing to try anything with you,” he whispers in my ear, making goosebumps erupt over my skin.

  I pull away then grab his hand, leading us to our bedroom. Tex wanted to be trendy—hipster-like if you will—and convinced me to buy a circle rotating bed. You’d be amazed at how good the sex is when you’re more than dick dizzy.

  I push him onto the bed. It spins a little, and we chuckle. It’s not exactly something you get used to, rather you make use of the advantages and wing it.

  “I’ve never done this,” I finally say, going to our toy drawer for lube. When I find it, my heart hammers like a caged beast wanting to break free.

  “And what’s that?” he questions, not reading into my posture, fear, or still frame.

  I finally turn to him and feel my face and body heat. It’s a mixture of excitement and nervousness. I’ve always topped. Even with Tex. Not once has the need or desire to switch consumed me. If anything, the fear ebbed any type of desire toward it. Now, with his tattoo-laden body open for me, I want to give that to him. He always seems in pure rapture when I’m
deep in him, pushing hard and harder, and now, it’s an experience that’s tempting me.

  “I want you to fuck me, little prince.”

  His eyes snap to mine, honey zeroing in on amber, like they’ll tell him whether I’m lying or not. As if he has found the answer, he rises to his feet and comes to me. The absolute yearning on his face makes my cock thicken, pushing against my board shorts. When I look at his gym shorts, his erection is noticeable, tenting, begging me.

  “Say it again,” he grits, his voice deep and predatory. He holds my jaw, unwilling to drop my gaze.

  “I want you to fuck me,” I nearly hiss as he’s gripping my shaft tightly. His thumb rubs the head of my cock leisurely, teasing me.

  “Get on the fucking bed,” he growls. It’s sexy and grumpy, almost like he’s waited our entire relationship for this moment, and maybe he has.

  He turns us and walks me backward until I fall to the bed. He eats me alive with his unabated hunger, roaming my skin like a metal detector, not missing a single inch.

  My husband hovers me before taking the lube bottle from my hand. Then, he’s kissing me. Texas is a helluva kisser. He takes and takes and takes, and when you think he’s done, he takes a little bit more.

  I cave into his lips, his thrall, and moan when he starts lowering my boxers. His mouth leaves mine to tease my throbbing dick the way I crave. Licking from tip to the base, all the way to my balls, making sure to suck along the way, he pleasures me.

  “Fuck,” I grind out as he sucks my sack in his mouth.

  He pops off, trailing his tongue to the crease of my ass. As he lifts my thighs, I can’t help but hiss. Tex has rimmed me several times. It’s always tortuously slow as if he’s savoring me. With each swipe of his tongue, I feel like I’m coming undone. When he breaches the tight ring, a loud growl escapes me. It’s almost pained, desperate for more.