Forbidden Love Read online

  Other books in this collection:

  Falling In Love… Again

  When Love Goes Bad

  Losing It For Love

  FORBIDDEN

  LOVE

  TALES OF RISKY CHOICES,

  IRRESISTIBLE PASSION

  AND TEMPTATION

  The timeless love stories from

  True Romance and True Love live on.

  Edited by Barbara Weller,

  Cynthia Cleveland and Nancy Cushing-Jones

  A BROADLIT BOOK

  BroadLit

  June 2012

  Published by

  BroadLit ®

  14011 Ventura Blvd.

  Suite 206 E

  Sherman Oaks, CA 91423

  Copyright © 2001, 2012 BroadLit, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN 978-0-9855404-8-7

  Produced in the United States of America.

  Visit us online at www.TruLOVEstories.com

  This collection is dedicated to all of you who are looking for true love or have already found it.

  FORBIDDEN

  LOVE

  TALES OF RISKY CHOICES,

  IRRESISTIBLE PASSION

  AND TEMPTATION

  Table Of Contents

  Introduction

  FROM ONE-NIGHT STAND—TO INDECENT OBSESSION

  He tasted my body once—and he’ll stop at nothing for more

  I MARRIED MY SPERM DONOR DAD

  INNOCENCE LOST: Too young to save myself

  MY HIGH SCHOOL AFFAIR

  Will We Live Happily Ever After?

  I’M STANDING BY MY RAPIST HUSBAND

  Even his prison sentence cannot dim the light of our love

  I’M A GOOD GIRL GONE BAD

  I couldn’t keep my panties on, and now I pay the price every single day

  THE TRUTH HURTS!

  Why do I destroy the people I love most?

  WE SAW A MURDER AND DID NOTHING

  It changed our affair forever

  NAUGHTY ORGASMS WITH MY EX

  They’re getting me in hot water!

  HIS MISTRESS IS BI—AND SO AM I!

  KISS, DON’T TELL

  Keeping my affair from him was the right thing to do

  MOM’S BOYFRIEND TOOK MY VIRGINITY

  I dangled my goods in his face so he’d make me feel like a woman

  Introduction

  No one is immune to the temptation of forbidden love.

  Many of us merely dip our baby toe into this realm -- perhaps by Googling the names of old lovers to see what they look like now, years later, while our spouse watches television in another room. Or we spy on an alluring married co-worker by studying his Facebook page to learn as much as we can about him. Or we create detailed fantasies about someone who is definitely off-limits for one reason or another.

  However, the sexually adventurous characters in these tantalizing stories have plunged much deeper into the web of forbidden love, making the rest of us look like pikers. Why have sex with just your husband when you can also have it with his best friend – or even his mistress? You’ll read about preachers who provide solace of the sexual kind and babysitters who look after more than just your children. Some of the sexual partners in these stories are illicit soul-mates – and some are selfish psychos. Who knew there was so much forbidden love to be had?

  But what pushes someone from merely thinking about forbidden love to actually engaging in it? Boredom or loneliness, of course. Sometimes it’s motivated by a desire for revenge or by a streak of rebellion or a bout of feeling really low. Most often, though, a palpable carnal chemistry that ultimately proves irresistible can overwhelm even the most prudent among us with a breathtaking swiftness.

  This much is true about forbidden love: It is never boring. Unlike true love, it ultimately forces you to face the question: Is it worth it? And while forbidden love almost always comes with an expiration date, there are exquisitely rare occasions where it actually morphs into true love.

  The stories in this collection let us venture deeply into the libidinous world of forbidden love – all while never leaving the comfort of our own lives. Sit back and succumb to its pleasures.

  FROM ONE-NIGHT STAND—TO INDECENT OBSESSION

  He tasted my body once—and he’ll stop at nothing for more

  I don’t even remember what I was feeling when I drove to work that Thursday morning. A little depressed, probably. Bored with reading romance novels, where wonderful, exciting things happened to everyone but me.

  Most of all I was lonely. I missed Frank, and I was frightened. With each passing day, I felt us growing further and further apart, and it seemed that there was nothing I could do to stop the process.

  What would life be like without him? In just two months, we’d be married five years. I couldn’t even remember what it’d been like before we met.

  Unlike my best friend, Angela, I hadn’t fallen in love during my teenage years. I’d gone to college first and completed my Associate’s degree. My feet were firmly planted on the ground when Frank Connor moved into the apartment across the hall from mine.

  We started out speaking when we met in the hallway, and slowly worked our way up to borrowing things from each other. Over that first year, our friendship grew into love, and the following spring, we were married in a small ceremony at my family’s church.

  Frank and I honeymooned at a romantic little cottage overlooking a secluded, mountain lake. He was tender and loving, and my wedding night was everything I’d ever dreamed it might be.

  I woke early that first morning and slipped quietly out of bed to sit, wrapped in a warm robe on the window seat, and watch my husband sleep. His dark hair was mussed, and I reached over to trace with my fingertips the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes, etched there from years of working hard at the outdoor jobs he loved. His broad shoulders were relaxed, one hand curled on the pillow; his lips were parted slightly in sleep.

  My heart ached with love. I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that I’d found my partner for life.

  “What happened to us, Frank?” I murmured as I wove my way through the traffic, driving to the offices of the Steadman Insurance Company, where I worked. “When did you stop caring?”

  Our first year together, we could hardly wait to come home to each other in the evenings. We grew comfortable together; I dreamed about buying a house and starting a family. But Frank wanted to wait.

  Then, during our second year of marriage, Frank received a promotion at work with a sizable salary increase. Unfortunately, his new position required that he spend a lot of time out of town, traveling on business.

  “We’re building a foundation, Mariska,” he said. “Let’s make certain that our future is secure, and then build our lives on that.”

  As impossible as it seemed now, three more years had slipped past. Frank had become totally involved in his work, and he never even mentioned children anymore. Pride wouldn’t let me beg him.

  I kept quiet about other things, too. Like the way Frank never noticed wh
en I had my hair highlighted, or bought a sexy new nightgown. I felt as though I held second place in his life, and I grew lonelier with each passing day.

  Still, as low as my spirits were, I felt something in the office atmosphere that morning, as soon as I walked onto the floor.

  “What’s up?” I asked Angela. She’d been my best friend ever since I’d come to work here, right out of college.

  “I don’t know all the details yet,” she said, pouring me a cup of coffee, “but rumor has it that we’re getting a hot, new salesman from Chicago. He’s single, with a penchant for fine wine and sports cars!”

  About ten that morning, Jared Beacon strolled through the claims department with Mr. Steadman, himself. Jared was tall, dark, handsome, and tanned, with a demeanor that exuded self-confidence. The room practically throbbed with the collective heartbeats of single women as he passed through—and a few married ones, as well, I suspect.

  Still, Jared was all business, listening attentively to Mr. Steadman’s introduction to the company. But just as he started to get on the elevator to go back to the executive suite, something totally unexpected happened. Jared turned and our eyes met.

  Time after time in those romance novels I’d read, the meeting between the hero and heroine had been described as “electric.” Sparks flew, bodies tingled, or lightning bolts split the atmosphere. Well, it had never been that way with Frank, so I’d always believed this was just a device used by the authors to make their stories more titillating.

  But when Jared Beacon looked at me that day, I experienced everything I’d ever read about. Sparks, tingles, and lightning bolts shot though me, one right after the other.

  I caught my breath and forced my eyes back to the work on my desk. Surely, I’d been mistaken. Even if I weren’t, the man surely wouldn’t play any part in my life. My job held no prestige, and my looks were not stunning, by any means. Jared Beacon had simply provided me with a few moments of excitement. A stirring of emotions long dormant. Nothing more.

  Which goes to show just how mistaken we can be.

  The following morning, I stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for my floor. At the last second, a man’s hand grabbed the closing doors, causing them to spring back open.

  “Hello,” Jared said. He stood there, smiling. As his eyes took in my every feature, I could feel a flush spreading over my face.

  Finally, he stepped into the elevator and allowed the doors to close behind him.

  “I haven’t had the pleasure,” he said.

  “I . . . I’m Mariska Connor.” My words came out in a hoarse whisper. To my horror, it occurred to me that Jared might think I was trying to sound sexy. I cleared my throat quickly to dispel that illusion.

  “Jared Beacon,” he said, extending his hand.

  “Yes, I know.” I spoke too quickly, and my face flamed anew. What was wrong with me? I hadn’t acted so immaturely since high school!

  Halfway to our floor, Jared reached over and stopped the elevator. My eyes widened in surprise.

  “You can’t do that,” I said.

  Jared smiled. “I already did. But don’t worry—it’s only for a minute. I’d just like to ask a favor.”

  “A favor? Of me?”

  “Yes. Are you free for lunch? My treat?”

  I was both flattered and curious all at once. “Well, yes—I mean—I—I suppose I could,” I stammered awkwardly, blushing a deep, miserable shade of crimson red. “But—where—”

  Jared returned the elevator to motion; it hummed as it whirred back into gear. “Meet me outside by the fountain at noon sharp.”

  As we walked onto my floor, I felt Jared’s hand briefly touch my back as he passed me by. That simple gesture left me with a warm feeling which lasted half the morning.

  “So? How did it taste?” Angela asked.

  I looked at her blankly. “What?”

  “You look like the cat that swallowed the canary. What’s going on? Give.”

  I laughed, glancing around to make certain that we were alone in the break room. “Actually,” I told her, “I don’t know what’s going on. Jared Beacon has asked me to lunch.”

  “What?” Angela shrieked.

  I nodded anxiously. “He says he wants to ask me a favor.”

  Angela’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of favor?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t have a clue. I swear. But I’m dying to find out. Anyway, can you cover for me—just in case I’m late getting back?”

  “No problem,” she said. “But you have to promise not to keep any secrets from me!”

  I laughed. “I promise,” I told her, raising my hand in a scout’s oath.

  As I rode the elevator downstairs at noon, I wondered why Jared hadn’t asked Angela out instead of me. Angela’s husband had walked out on her two years earlier. She had a dark, haunting beauty about her, and if Jared was looking for a date, the two sons she was raising alone shouldn’t have been any more of an obstacle to him than my husband would present.

  Jared had parked his little red sports car by the curb out front. I got in, and as we sped away, I leaned my head back for a moment against the soft headrest and breathed in the aromas of new leather and aftershave. Angela and I usually ate in the company lunchroom, and it felt wonderful just to get out of the building for a change.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, glancing at my watch.

  “Maria’s,” Jared said. “Do you know the place?”

  Did I ever! Maria’s was one of the finest restaurants in our area. Frank had taken me there once, on our anniversary.

  “Yes,” I told him, “but I only have an hour.”

  “They’re expecting us. I’ve taken the liberty of selecting the wine in advance. I hope you don’t mind.”

  At Maria’s, a hostess in period costume led us through the dimly lit interior to a table beneath a spiral staircase. Rich woods polished to a high sheen reflected the glow of candlelight; original prints of horses and carriages hung on the walls.

  “Jared,” I said as soon as we were seated, “I—I can’t help feeling as though you’ve made some kind of mistake. I’m—”

  “Married,” he finished for me. “Actually, that’s one of the reasons I decided to go through with this. Very few people are available for platonic, male/female relationships nowadays.”

  I can’t say whether I was pleased or disappointed. Before I had time to consider it, though, Jared went on.

  “May I be honest with you, Mariska?”

  I nodded.

  “When I saw you yesterday, I felt . . . something.” He spread both of his hands out in front of me, palms upward. “Do you know anything about soul mates?”

  “I—I’ve heard the term. . . .”

  “Once in a lifetime, if we’re lucky, we find people we’ve known since time began. I happen to believe that this is true for you and me.”

  I’d never met anyone so direct; it left me speechless.

  “Mariska, let’s just put that aside for now. What matters right now is that I’m new in town, and all the women I’ve met so far are only hoping to rope and tie me. You, on the other hand, are off-limits, so I can relax with you, enjoy your company. Will you show me around? Will you be my friend?”

  I began to relax. “Oh, of course I will, Jared. But you didn’t have to buy me an expensive lunch to ask that question.”

  Jared relaxed, too. The tension was finally broken, and our relationship began that day.

  During that first month, Jared took me out four times. I kept my guard up, just in case. In spite of my original attraction to him, I didn’t intend to allow anything to develop with him, or with any other man, for that matter.

  When Frank came home one weekend, I told him about meeting Jared, and about the times we’d gone out together. Maybe I was hoping that Frank would be jealous, but I knew in my heart that he trusted me completely, just as I trusted him.

  “I know you’re lonely, Mariska,” he said. “But it won’t be for much longer
. If everything goes as planned, I’ll be transferred here permanently within the year, and we’ll finally be able to settle down and live normal lives at last.”

  The problem was, I’d heard this promise before. Frank always made it sincerely, but then the executives would ask him to take on another assignment, and Frank would cave in to their wishes, eager as he was to establish himself with the company. He couldn’t seem to realize, as I did, that they were simply using him, giving him assignments that no one else would take.

  When Frank left again that Monday morning, he promised faithfully to come home for our fifth wedding anniversary at the end of the month.

  “It’s special to me, Frank,” I told him. “It’s a milestone; it means more than all the others.”

  Frank renewed his promise, and I spent days making plans. I even rented a suite at a hotel, as a sort of second honeymoon retreat. I also made reservations at one of the finer restaurants in town, one that had a rooftop ballroom. I figured we’d dance and dine in style.

  I carefully chose Frank’s gift, and spent days choosing a dress and all the accessories that went with it. On the afternoon of our anniversary, I had my hair done up in a style that would show off the necklace Frank had given me as an anniversary gift the previous year.

  His flight was due in at three. That was cutting it close, but it was the best Frank could offer, and I took it. When the hour came, I was walking around the apartment in my robe, nervously wringing my hands and looking at the clock. Frank wouldn’t forget. He just couldn’t!

  By four o’clock, when the phone rang, I was frantic.

  “Oh, Frank,” I cried, when I heard his voice, “I was so worried that you wouldn’t make it. But you still have time. Was your flight delayed?”

  There was dead silence for a few seconds, and then Frank said, “Mariska, something’s come up.”

  My heart sank right through the floor. “Oh, no,” I whispered.

  “Honey, I can’t tell you how sorry I am, but just hear me out. Okay?”