Forbidden Fruit: Volume 1 (34 page)

Chapter
Seven

The next morning, Sylvia woke with a jolt, and a tapping on her door. In a panic she searched her bed, terrified that Finn was still in it, and her dad was at the door. She was relieved to find she was alone.

“Sylvia, Dorothy and I have decided to drive over to Pittsburgh to visit her sister. We’ll be back tomorrow night. Do you need anything before we leave?” Her fathered yelled to her, but remained on the other side of the door. That didn’t stop Sylvia from pulling her comforter up around her neck to cover her complete nakedness.

“That’s ok. I’m good. Have a good time,” she yelled back.

“Ok hun. Finn is out on the ranch somewhere, but if you need anything just call him,” her father said before retreating down the hall. She lay in bed for a while longer, relishing in visions of the night before. Passed out. Finn had caused her to pass out, sleeping through her alarm and him leaving her bed. Whichever happened first. Her body was deliciously sore, and she stretched her limbs, enjoying the ache.
 A nice hot shower was first on her agenda.

Her next mission was to eat. It was almost noon, and she hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before, and she had one heck of a workout.
 The house was utterly still as she made her way to the kitchen. As usual, there was a covered plate waiting for her filled with scrambled eggs, hash browns and canadian bacon. She ate breakfast alone, sitting at the large family table, thinking about the past week, not believing how different things were for her now. At the beginning of the week, she felt like running away. Disconnected from her parents, her new step family, and not having any friends to speak of, she felt miserably alone. Well one flat tire turned her world on it’s axis, and now she didn’t know what was coming next.

Her father was taking more of an interest in her, which would be wonderful if she wasn’t trying to hide such a big secret. But, oh what a secret. Her body grew warm just at the thought of being with Finn. The way he ravaged her body was nothing short of mind blowing. Soul shattering. The way he claimed her as his, there was no denying it. His name was invisibly tagged onto her soul, apart of her forever. No matter what happened.

After breakfast, she went in search of her man. Smiling inside at how that made her feel. Heading for the barn, she was disappointed to find that Finn wasn’t there. So she hopped on one of the three-wheelers that the ranch hands used, and headed out to find him. She rode through the middle of the property, hoping to locate him faster. Rays from the sun shone hotly against her skin as she powered through the tall blades of grass. She slowed her speed when passing the horses, not sure if the roar of her motor would spook them. When she finally did spot him, he was in a grassy field near the edge of ranch, propped up against a cedar tree with a sketch pad and colored pencils. Ed McCain was streaming from the speaker of his truck, and he smiled when he saw her approaching.

Sylvia parked her ATV, and jumped off, slowly stalking towards him like he was a skittish, wild creature. He laughed at her silly posture, raising an eyebrow as he watched her creep closer.

“What are you doing?” His chuckle deepened when she put one finger over her mouth to shush him.

“Quiet, I’m sneaking up on you,” she whispered.

“Oh yeah, I hadn’t noticed,” he teased,  putting his pad down to make room for her on his lap. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she hugged him close. He closed his arms around her, breathing in her scent, and placing light kisses on her temple.

“So what are you working on,” she asked, reaching for his drawing.

“Today I was just free flowing. I did a little sketch of the grove of trees over there,” he said, pointing to the spot he was referring to. Sylvia studied the sketch, impressed with his obvious skill and level of detail.

“Wow. This is really good Finn. How long have you been an artist?”

“Ah, I wouldn’t call myself an artist, but I’ve been drawing since I could hold a crayon,” he answered.

“Um, you are definitely an artist. This is amazing, and it’s ‘just’ a little sketch? I would love to see the rest of your work. I can’t draw to save my own life, shoot, I can barely maintain my handwriting.”

“Wait here,” Finn murmured before heading to his truck. He returned with a blanket and a larger pad that showed signs of wear and tear which he handed to Sylvia. Then he spread out the blanket, moving his tools onto it and motioning for her to join him.

“That is a collection of my favorite pieces over the years. This is what I usually do on the weekends if I’m not working.” Finn watched as she poured through his work. It was strange to see her so enthralled by his talent, because he had never shared that part of him before. He reached over, pushing the hair that was framing her face behind her ears so that he could see her better. He couldn’t believe that she had made such an enormous impact on him in so little time.

“So what are your hobbies,” Finn asked. Watching her peruse through his sketches produced a burning desire to know more about her. This creature of so many moods.

“Well, nothing as talented as what you have going on here, but I do write music. I used to help out a friend back in Cali who was part of a band. I would take her poems and turn them into songs, but that was the only time I did it for show. Usually I just write them and they never leave my notepad.” she offered shyly.

“Wow. So are you going to write a song about me?” He half joked. Truth be told, he would love for her to write a song about them. Sylvia seemed to bring out whatever romance he held within his soul.

“I suppose I could be inspired to do that,” she joked back.

The pair continued to talk and share bits and pieces of their past. While they were very different, there seemed to be some common ground between them. They liked the same foods, Italian being their favorite, and had the same taste in movies. Music was a different story. Sylvia concluded that Finn was two steps away from being a country boy, where she had a more eclectic collection of tunes. As they talked, Sylvia continued to look back at certain sketches that caught her eye.

“These are amazing. You are amazing,” she said with complete adoration. She placed his drawings to the side, angling herself so that they were face to face. She traced the rugged outline of his jaw, taking in his beauty. Not just his looks, but the goodness that she saw in his eyes. The man that she had written off as aloof, and boring, was really soulful and sensitive. If she wasn’t falling for him before, she knew she was now.

“Thank you,” he whispered, letting her continue her explorations. “I think you’re pretty amazing too. You make me feel incredible.”

Snaking an arm around her, Finn slid his hand through her hair, guiding her to his lips. This time their kiss was slow and soft. Finn wanted her to know that he needed her for more than sex. They had a get out of jail free card, to do as they wished for the weekend, but at that moment he just wanted to hold her. Under the warm rays of the sun, while the gentle summer breeze danced across their skin.

After a long day spent out in the hot sun, they both were tired and in the mood to relax. That night, they settled in front of the big screen TV in the living room to watch a movie. The day had be spent with them both sharing memories from their childhoods, and learning more about each other. Finn had taken Sylvia all around the ranch, showing her exactly how their business was run, and explaining all the changes her father had implemented to make things better. That made Finn think about their future as a couple.

“What do you think your father would do if he found out about us?” That question had been weighing on his mind all day. Sylvia sat up from her cozy position in his lap and glared.

“He would kill us. Both of us. Why would you even ask that?”

“It was just a question. I mean, you can’t think that we can do this forever,” he continued.

Sylvia let out a long sigh. “You’re right. I guess. I just hate the thought of my dad finding out. I can’t imagine that he would be happy about it.”

“Well, I think I should have a talk with him.” Finn’s voice was steady and confident. He let Sylvia slide out of his lap when she recoiled at his suggestion.

“Finn! What would you say? What if he forbids me from seeing you? What if this causes a rift between our parents. Have you thought it through?” She was highly agitated, on the verge of panic. Finn sat quietly, gathering his thoughts before he continued.

“I have thought it through Sylvia, and I think that coming clean is a better alternative than getting caught. And we will get caught, eventually. Unless, this is just something to kill time for you. Some sort of game.” He was edging her, hoping to finally get her to open up about her true feelings.

“I told you this means more to me. How could you say that?” She wrapped her arms around herself, almost as if attempting to hold in the hurt that his words caused. Finn immediately felt bad for goading her.

“Sorry Sylvie, I just don’t understand you. You say that what we have means something to you, but you clam up whenever I talk about our future. I don’t like the sneaking around. It feels wrong. I mean, yeah, it was exciting at first, but it’s too much to look your father in the eyes every night at dinner knowing all the things that I’ve done with you. I’m a man Sylvie, and I don’t want to hide how I feel about you. I would rather he be angry with me and know that I’m treating you well, than be caught sneaking around like I’m ashamed. Do you understand?” His eyes implored her to reason, and he reached for her, wanting her back in his arms.

Sylvia was deep in thought, her brows knitted in a tight frown as she absorbed Finn’s words. As much as it terrified her for her father to know the truth, she agreed with Finn. She couldn’t argue with him, and the fact that he was serious enough about her to risk exposing their relationship made her feel warm inside, while his strong arms made her feel secure.

“I’m just scared,” she whispered her truth.

“I know, darlin’, but I told you that I’ll take care of you. Even if that means we have to get our own place, or run away and start fresh.” He kissed her gently on her temple.

“Oh God, I hope it doesn’t come to that. I can’t afford to start over Finn.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that either, but I have money from my dad’s will, so I’m good. As long as we are on the same page,” he said. Sylvia took his hands in hers, and squeezed it.

“We’re on the same page,” she said with a smile.

A poem for Finn

With you, I am

Seeing for the first time

No longer fighting against love,

No longer blind

I’ve wanted you, for too long

Tonight is about me

In your arms

Tonight I don’t want to be strong

My feelings reign supreme

That’s what you do to me

So let me revel in your allure

Be consumed by your desire

It’s never enough

I’ll always want more

Strictly Off Limits

by

Jessica Hawkins

Chapter One

I swiped a finger across my iPhone one last time and looked at the piece of art lit up on the screen. Even in the picture I’d snapped before leaving the store, the dress glowed with thousands of tiny, gold sequins. Its beauty was indescribable. Epic. To die for. Giving up my spring break would be worth it. Yes, it was far too lavish and perfect for a fraternity spring formal, but I didn’t care. I had something to prove.

The elevator dinged.
I’d arrived at the top floor of Brittany Industries. My heart thumped once as the doors slid open to reveal a sprawling office that looked as though it was regularly scrubbed with bleach. Even though this was only temporary, my palms were clammy. It would be my first real job—one where my check wasn’t signed by my parents’ neighbors with a smiley face as I balanced their four-year-old against my hip.

Each step
farther into the office came with a deep inhalation. In reality, I had nothing to worry about—my new boss, Dean Brittany, was an old family friend. He’d watched me grow up. If my dad had such a thing as a best friend, he would be it.

Dire
ctly off the elevator was a platinum-haired receptionist with a low-cut blouse. “June” her nameplate said. She pointed me in the direction of Dean’s office. I passed an empty desk just outside his door, which I assumed would be mine, and knocked lightly. When there was no response, I knocked again.

“Come in.”

The sunny, downtown Los Angeles skyline brightened an expansive office. Dean was on the phone, his seat angled toward the view so I could only see his profile. He checked his watch and, still staring out the window, motioned for me to sit. I perched on the edge of a chair in front of his desk. He didn’t glance at me once as he spoke into the phone. I, on the other hand, had nowhere to look but at him. I noticed upon closer inspection that his hair had shaded from black to charcoal since I’d last seen him.

He listened, his
thick eyebrows furrowing until one shot up. “Next month?” he asked. “That’ll drive the cost up by thousands. What makes you think I have that to spare?” He paused again, staring out at the skyscrapers. “I’ll give you until the end of next week. If it’s not finished by then, you can spend
next
month
looking for a new job.”

He
reached out and dropped the receiver without looking, but it landed directly in its cradle.

After a
few moments of silence, I spoke. “Dean?”

His leather chair squeaked when he turned to me. “Alexandra James.”

His voice was deep, rolling sensually over my long, mouthful-of-a name. The way he said it tied my tongue, so I just tucked hair behind my ear.

He
stood and came around the desk toward me. In his sharp, navy suit, he wasn’t my dad’s friend who used to come over for golf. He wasn’t Vivian’s dad, the girl I was sometimes forced to play with during dinner parties. The way he leaned in and straightened his jacket before settling against the edge of his desk almost felt threatening.

“How long has it been?” he asked.
My eyes jumped to meet his.
Those
I remembered, his bottomless eyes. Their deep, dark blue was how I imagined the bottom of the ocean looked.

“A few years,” I said, but it came out like a question.

“Five.”

“Oh? Already?”

“That’s when I moved here full time. I suppose it’s been that long since I’ve seen you and your mother. How are you liking USC?”

“It’s fun,” was all I could think to say.

“Good. I appreciate you doing me this favor. I’m sure this isn’t how you imagined spending your first spring break.”

“It’s okay,” I said
. “You’re actually doing
me
the favor. I need the extra cash.”

“That so?” he asked,
shifting against the desk. His knee ghosted against mine, and I swallowed.

He looked at me expectantly, so I kept talking.
“There’s this dress . . .”

He chuckled. “There’s always a dress. You sound like Vivian.”

“I’ve been invited to a fraternity formal.” Dean glanced at my hands as I played with the fabric of my pants, so I stopped instantly. He still didn’t speak. “It’s next weekend, and I need a dress for it.”

“Won’t
Gary buy it for you?”

“Normally, yes. But
dad said this one was too much. I believe the word he used was
astronomical
.”

He nodded knowingly.
“How much is it?”

“
Nine hundred and sixty-five dollars. Including tax.”

That heavy, dark eyebrow arched again. “For a
frat party
?”

Inside I was cringing, but for some reason,
my hands were digging in my purse for my phone. He leaned over when I pulled up the picture, and his cologne wafted under my nostrils.

He made a noise of approval.
“I don’t know much about fashion,” he said, “but as far as dresses go, that’s a very nice one. And I imagine you’d look very nice in it.”

I
tugged on the ends of my long, light hair. Before I could thank him, he continued.

“I’m not sure how much
Gary told you, but my secretary, Grace, is out for her honeymoon. She’s very good at her job, and without her, my life feels a bit chaotic. I understand this is just a temp thing for you, however, I run a multi-million dollar business. While you’re here, you’re not Gary’s daughter. You’re my secretary. Can you handle that?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“Mr. Brittany,” he corrected immediately. “That’s what all my employees call me.”

“Yes, Mr. Brittany,” I said with a hint of a smile.

His eyes searched mine, and he cleared his throat. “Very good. You seem to take direction well. If that’s true, we should have no problems.”

“Consider me yours for the next
five days,” I quipped. “Whatever you need.”

He hummed
to himself, clasping his hands in his lap. “I’ll be paying you under the table, but as I told Gary, it will be generous. Just enough for you to get yourself that dress. But in exchange, I need your full attention this week. That means staying until the job is done. I requested my secretary not plan her wedding for this time of year, but clearly she did it anyway.”

I giggled into my hand, but his expression
didn’t change, so I stopped and put it back in my lap.

He gestured behind me. “Grace has left instructions at the desk for you. I’m not even sure what they are, but she should’ve outlined it all in the notes. You get one hour for lunch at noon, but other than that,
you should be working on something at all times. If you need something to do, talk to June in reception. Try not to bother me unless it’s absolutely pressing.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, standing
. His eyes scanned over my eggshell blouse and grey slacks, which hung from my hips since they’d sold out of my size.

“Where’d you get that outfit?” he asked.

“Um, Ann Taylor. I’ve never had an office job so I just—”

“No explanation necessary,” he said, rising
with me. “June takes lunch orders; you’ll find my list of preferences in Grace’s notes. If I’m feeling like something specific, I’ll let you know. Otherwise choose from the list. You’re dismissed.”

I left the room with a dry throat. Walking into the office I’d felt apprehensive but easy. Suddenly
my body was tight from his tone. His shift from my dad’s friend to my boss was palpable, and I wasn’t entirely sure who this man was. But I was sure of one thing: I did
not
want to upset him.