Forbidden Desires

by Roberts, Jaimie

  I pivot, facing him. "What?" I ask, unable to comprehend what I'm hearing. He died of an accidental overdose. Didn't he?

  "I killed two birds with one stone. Terry's gone, and the two girls got paid very handsomely for their part. They no longer have to work on the streets again. A win, win."

  "You…you killed him?" I ask.

  Owen sneers. "You really thought I would let him live after what he did to you? Think what you want about me, Savannah, but if someone crosses a person I care about, I will let unholy Hell rain down on them. The fucker got what he deserved."

  A whirlwind of emotions overwhelm me. Adulation and joy that he cared enough to go as far as killing someone for me, but, at the end of the day, he killed someone.

  "How?" I'm not sure I want to know, but ask anyway.

  Owen shrugs, like it all means nothing to him. "It's been widely known within Terry’s circles. His parents were always able to make it go away, and this death will be no exception. They'll no doubt hire a quick autopsy and find he went too far with the heroin this time. I should imagine they'll want a quick burial after that, and all to be forgotten."

  "But…how?"

  Owen smirks. "I gave the girls a very strong batch of heroin, told them to let him know how special that shit was. Terry could never resist a good hit. I was counting on him shooting up as much as he normally does, and thankfully, it worked like a charm. Otherwise, I would have had to have gotten creative, like a fall off a cliff, perhaps." He waves his hand in the air like he’s talking about planning a trip somewhere, not someone's death.

  I'm about to tell him he shouldn't have gone to those lengths for me when a clearing of someone's throat halts me. Owen glances toward the door, and I spin to find Frank standing there.

  "I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Montgomery, but Mrs. Montgomery mentioned something about flowers?"

  Owen brushes his arm against mine, standing beside me. "Yes. I will be right out."

  Frank nods. "Very well, sir." He acknowledges me with a nod, and I smile in return. When he's gone, Owen fixes his eyes on me.

  "This conversation might be over for now, but it certainly isn't the end. You take time out and sulk as much as you want, but you will be in my arms again. I can guarantee it. Not even you can take you away from me."

  I don't have time to answer before Owen walks out of the door, his head held high.

  Owen may have killed for me. He may have even done it out of some sort of regret after the way he behaved. But it still doesn't take away the fact that he said the things he did. It still doesn’t take away the fact that he doesn’t trust me and called me those rotten names.

  I am no one’s whore.

  Guilty

  Barbara Streisand & Barry Gibb

  Five months earlier

  I arrived at the lake house yesterday early evening, after getting some food for the duration. I'm not sure how long I will be here, but I'm thinking I will need at least a few days to figure out what I'm going to do with my life. I've only been working for Owen for a couple of months, so I’ve hardly earned enough to save what I’ll need in order to move back to the city and maybe find myself another job.

  I close my eyes on a sigh. When did life get so complicated? Everything was fine before I met the infamous Owen Montgomery. We may have been poor, but I had ambitions and an aim to work hard to get the results I wanted. I got seduced by the immediate lifestyle I was thrown into by my mother. In my haste at trying my damnedest not to be like her, I ended up becoming her. Obsession over Owen took a tight hold, and I gleaned in the attention and gifts he lavished on me.

  Now look where it's left me.

  Coming to the lake house was a part of me attempting to obtain my old roots. I needed a thump back down to reality, and this beautiful, cozy house offers just that. It's already Saturday afternoon and a little chilly. I sit in the gazebo with nothing but a mass of windows that take in the view of the lake. I've just eaten a pizza and I'm sipping on my second glass of white wine, enjoying the view.

  Determined to shut the world away, my phone has been switched off since I got here. I don't know if Owen has endeavored to call, and I think it would upset me more if I had left it on and he hadn't at least made an effort to find out if I'm okay. No matter how hard I try not to think about Owen, he still seeps into my mind. And every time he does, that horrible pang in the pit of my stomach surfaces. It makes me end up shaking my head at my stupidity. I could have sworn something was there between us, but maybe I wanted it so much, I invented all those looks I thought held a longing for me, when all along it was purely platonic.

  Feeling a nice buzz now, I pick up my glass of wine only to find it almost empty. I'm obviously enjoying the second glass much more than the first considering how quickly it's gone.

  Wanting another, I get up from my seat and walk into the kitchen area. Placing my glass on the counter, I move toward the fridge and stop dead in my tracks at Owen’s cool, intense eyes staring back at me.

  I gasp, taking a step back, and cover my heart. It feels like it’s going to leap out of my chest. Gripping the central island, I hope it will keep me steady on my wobbly knees.

  Why is he here? Is he going to attempt to convince me to go back home?

  Nervously, I swallow, and all I can do is stare. He's unshaven, and his hair is a little wavy—no doubt from having the top down in his car. His eyes narrow with the heat I convinced myself I saw all those times over the past couple months. He stands still, and I mimic his inaction. I doubt I could move, even if I tried. He has me locked with those beautiful, potent eyes full of danger, passion, heartbreak, desire, risk, joy, fear, and more—so much more.

  I inhale sharply when Owen finally makes a move and opens the door. I keep my eyes fixed on him, unable to look away as he strolls in, shutting the door behind him before turning and fixing those same eyes on me—the same eyes that make my knees tremble with need. He doesn't say a word as he takes one step toward me, then two. By the third step, I am in his arms as he crashes his lips to mine, coaxing a pathetic whimper from my mouth.

  His arm snakes around my waist and up my back as he pushes me forward to deepen our kiss. His tongue darts out, causing a fiery heat to dance inside my belly. I moan, grabbing his shirt and fisting it in my hands

  Breaking free from my lips, Owen trails kisses along my neck. Eyes closed, I throw my head back, a deep-seated need taking over my soul. "Owen…oh, God," I breathe out between pants. I want him inside me. "Please," I beg, needing him closer.

  Grabbing my waist, Owen hoists me up, and I wrap my legs around him. Gripping my ass, he walks up the stairs into his old room. In my own, sick little world, I chose to sleep here. I still wanted to feel close to him—as pathetic as it sounds.

  But now I'm here, locked in his arms as he kisses and nibbles my neck, his desire for me evident from his hardness digging into my crotch.

  Setting me down, our arms scurry into a frenzy. Owen's buttons fly off his shirt, my dress rips in half from the force of Owen's tug. He unhooks my bra, and as the straps fall down, revealing my breasts, Owen's eyes widen in marvel, and his tongue darts out, licking his lips.

  "Beautiful," he whispers, bending down to take one of my nipples into his mouth. He sucks gently, grazing his teeth along my hardened nub. I close my eyes, dropping my head back. My head swirls with dizziness, my longing for him becoming all too consuming.

  "Owen, please," I beg again, needing him to move faster. He threads his fingers inside my panties, and with one grunt, he has them falling to my feet. He looks up, his eyes feral and jaw locked. The intensity has my yearning for him reaching new heights. As I darken my gaze upon him, he hastily takes down his boxers.

  For that split-second, I marvel at his physique—so taut, it makes me wonder how his skin would feel under my touch. I lift my hands, trailing the contours of his chest and around his pecks before landing on his stomach. Owen's breaths are uneven, and his cock jerks in response. I look down, gazing at his impressive lengt
h, and for a brief moment, I wonder how I ever managed to restrain myself from touching him all this time.

  A finger pressed under my chin, pulls my face up to meet his eyes. Leaning down, he kisses my lips, and I groan. Owen walks forward, backing me up so I'm lying on the bed. His kisses are so soft and gentle, I almost forget about contraception.

  "Condom?" I ask, feeling a little panicked.

  Owen lifts his head, a brief look of annoyance. "Shit, Savannah. Seriously?"

  "I'm not on the pill."

  He closes his eyes, breathing out, "Fuck," before getting off me. Reaching into his nightstand drawer, he rummages through until he finds what he's looking for. "Thank fuck," he breathes out, turning to me. He rips the top off the foil wrapper with his teeth and positions himself between my legs. Rolling the condom on, he sinks inside me, and we both cry out, his length stretching me to accommodate him.

  Snuggled in tightly, he starts to move, both our breaths hitting each other's faces as we stare at each other.

  "I have dreamed of this fucking moment for so long. Do you know how hard it's been?" He thrusts, groaning out a moan. "Fuck knows how I held out as long as I did. Shit, Savannah, you feel incredible."

  I close my eyes, relishing this feeling. His movements, strong, his cock hitting the right spot with each thrust. My cries are effortless as he pounds into me, over and over.

  "I can't fucking go slow with you. Shit!"

  His words and his actions have my head spinning in a frenzy. My legs tremble in response to his onslaught, my body rigid at my building orgasm.

  "Owen!" I holler, my hands gripping his ass cheeks, making him grunt. Pleasure spikes, and with each movement, he pushes me closer to that edge. "Owen, I'm going to—ahhh!" I scream out my release, my whole body trembling with the intensity.

  "Fuck, Savannah, I can't hold out much longer." He keeps going, and with each thrust, my orgasm reins on, practically robbing me of sight. When I feel I'm going to pass out, Owen stills, his body rigid as he grunts out his release.

  "Fuck!" he hisses, collapsing on top of me.

  Breaths ragged, we both lie still, trying to slow our beating hearts. As the euphoria of my orgasm subsides, it dawns on me what just happened.

  Owen came for me.

  He wants me as much as I want him.

  The balance between us finally equalizing the scales—our desire for each other no longer ignored. What just happened can never be taken back.

  I wait for the moment of regret or guilt, but it never comes. My only fear now is Owen will feel it.

  He rolls off me and immediately gets up from the bed. I watch silently, biting my lip, waiting for what he will have to say now that the deed is done. He walks to the en suite, and flushes the condom down the toilet before walking back to the bed. I try to gauge his reaction, but he looks surprisingly calm for someone who just slept with his wife's daughter.

  He climbs in, pulling me into his arms, and I smile, snuggling into his chest. He starts to stroke my hair, and I close my eyes, listening to the soft rhythm of his heartbeat.

  "I don't know where the fuck we go from here, but I can't stay away from you anymore." He continues to stroke my hair, and I remain silent, too eager to hear what he might say next. "After what I witnessed Friday, I can understand why you turned to me. You want to use me, and I don't need to be a genius to fathom why."

  I lift my head up, frowning at him. "It may have been my intention at first, but…"

  He silences me with a finger to my lips. "I'm not judging you. I'm just telling you I understand."

  His hand rests under my chin, his eyes conveying a message I'm now reading loud and clear. What we have is just sex. A mutual connection coming together because of one person.

  My mother.

  For whatever reason, we're both sticking it to her. Me, for the obvious reasons, and Owen…well, I can't say why for him, but it would be nice to think he's doing it because he's appalled at the way she spoke with me on Friday.

  I nod, ending that conversation. Owen immediately relaxes underneath me. Maybe he's worried I’ll become needy and clingy now, which is not who I am. I can go the distance with no feelings involved. If it's as good as our time in bed just now, then I'm all in.

  "I was planning on leaving," I admit out loud, resting my head on his chest again.

  Owen stiffens beneath me, a strand of hair stuck mid-stroke between his fingers. "I would never have let that happen."

  Frowning, I look up taking in the angry lines across his face. I can't gauge what it is he's feeling. We're just sex…right?

  "Why, though? Wouldn't it be better if I were out of the house? Mom obviously doesn't want me there, and there's always tension between you and me. I just felt it would be best for everyone if I were out of the way."

  Owen pushes himself up from the bed, causing me to do the same. I face him as he sits upright, leaning on the headboard. He seems…aggravated.

  "Is that what you really think? That you're some inconvenience no one wants?"

  Hurt and angry, I fist the sheets with one hand. "I'm not going to be anyone's victim, but yes, that is what I think, because that is the way it is."

  "Fucking hell, Savannah…" He stops mid-sentence, taking in a deep breath through his nostrils. When he lets out the air in his lungs, he closes his eyes. When he opens them, he locks me with those sparkling greens. "You may have been brought up like that most of your life, but from the moment you stepped into my home, that shit stopped. Your mother is one thing, but as far as I'm concerned, the only reason there was tension between us was I knew there was an attraction there and I tried hard to keep away from it. Fuck knows why I kept away so long. It's not like your mom's been the most faithful wife." I visibly wince, causing Owen to shake his head. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to justify my actions with you. Our relationship is worth a damn sight more than any of her conquests. We just need to be careful, and the only way we can be is if we don't let feelings get in the way. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

  I smile, nodding. "Of course I do. And I'm on board. One hundred percent.”

  Yeah, I’m pretty sure I can do this.

  I just can’t allow myself to fall in love.

  El Paso

  Marty Robbins

  Present

  I think back to that night at the lake house as if it were a distant dream. I was so naïve—naïve to think I could have a relationship with Owen based on sex and sex alone. We both kept to our promises, but more recently, those lines have become blurred.

  We stayed at the lake house for two more days. One of the reasons we didn’t stay longer was because we ran out of condoms and didn’t want to leave the bed in order to go to the nearest store fifteen minutes out. The main reason was due to the pressing fact that we had both switched our phones off and worried someone would try to get a hold of us and it would raise suspicion. We had been so wrapped up in nothing but sheets and the sweet scent of sex, only leaving for necessities like eating and washing. Little did we realize, someone was trying to get a hold of Owen.

  Another week has gone by, and Christmas is only two days away. I have been doing my best to keep away from Owen, much to his obvious frustration. To add to his frustration, my mother has been around the house a lot more. If Owen and I had still been in our fucked up relationship, I guess I would be feeling the frustration too. Right now, I'm still so raw, even my own mother has become an ally.

  I stand at the kitchen door, staring out at the clear night and stars ahead. It's cold, but refreshing. The house holds a multitude of people getting drunk, their body heat making the night unbearably claustrophobic. I normally like parties, but tonight, I'm just not feeling it. Knowing no one normally comes into the kitchen, I decided it’s the best escape.

  "Did you know every star you see in the nights sky is bigger and brighter than our sun?"

  Jumping, I spin to the sound of an unfamiliar voice, only to be startled even more by what I find. A tall man, I assume early t
wenties, with cropped black hair and green eyes, approaches me, a small smile on his lips. Casually dressed in black khaki pants and a white hoodie, he nurses a drink—the strong stuff by the looks of the tiny measure. I have never seen him before. I would have remembered him—he stands out from the rest. Apart from Owen, this guy is one of the most handsome men I’ve ever come across. Not only is it the green eyes and great body, but the way he smiles, carrying confidence I find extremely attractive.

  "Is this the part where you tell me you're an astrophysicist?"

  He chuckles slightly, placing his drink down on the counter, his eyes doing a merry dance over my cleavage. Normally this would turn me off, but this guy makes me feel surprisingly sexy.

  "No, not quite. I just like to say random shit to impress the ladies. Has it worked?"

  I throw my head back, laughing, and loving how good it feels. "You've only said one sentence to me so far to impress. I'm someone who would need a good hour of conversation to be a judge. However, it was a valiant effort, I must say." I smirk, feeling better already.

  He raises his arm, leaning on the doorframe. We're inches apart from each other, and for the first time, I don't find myself stepping away from it.

  "I guess you'll be seeing a lot of me tonight then."

  My eyes widen. "Wow, really turning on the charm, aren't we?"

  "It has been a while. I guess I'm a little rusty."

  I would have thought someone as good-looking as him would have women lining up to date him. "Don't worry. I'll let you know if you come on too strong. Wouldn't want you trying anything with another lady and failing miserably."

  He places his hand on his heart. "That's very noble of you. Thanks." We both laugh before glancing at the stars together.