Forbidden Firefighter

by R. S. Elliot

  Forbidden Firefighter

  R. S. Elliot

  Contents

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  Forbidden Fairy Tales

  Prologue

  1. Lyndsey

  2. Hunter

  3. Lyndsey

  4. Hunter

  5. Lyndsey

  6. Lyndsey

  7. Hunter

  8. Lyndsey

  9. Hunter

  10. Lyndsey

  11. Hunter

  12. Lyndsey

  13. Hunter

  14. Lyndsey

  15. Hunter

  16. Lyndsey

  17. Hunter

  18. Lyndsey

  19. Hunter

  20. Lyndsey

  21. Hunter

  22. Lyndsey

  23. Hunter

  24. Lyndsey

  Epilogue

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  Sneek Peak into Forbidden Professor

  Aly

  © Copyright 2020 - R. S. Elliot

  All rights reserved.

  It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.

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  Forbidden Fairy Tales

  I am so excited to introduce my new series “Forbidden Fairy Tales”. Each book in this series is a standalone and can be read in any order.

  Forbidden Professor is Book 1 in this series and is the story of Aly and Zach.

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  Prologue

  I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself.

  Everything was riding on this.

  Everything depended on me keeping him at arm’s length.

  My inheritance, my future. It was the difference between whether I ended up disowned, penniless on the streets, and with my grandmother’s home occupied by strangers…

  …or an heiress to a billion dollars worth of assets and holdings.

  It didn’t matter.

  Nothing ever seemed to matter when I was with him.

  His hands glided over my naked skin, claiming every last inch of me as his own. Sweat dripped down the side of my face. I struggled to collect my breath, still spent and completely exhausted from our foolish surrender. My knees weakened. They nearly buckled beneath me but he was there. His thick arms wrapped around me, bracing me against the muscled planes of his chest. Reminding me he would always be there to catch me, always be there to prop me back up.

  And always be there to drive me insane with pleasure until my body gave way to fatigue.

  One bead of moisture trailed down my spine, tingling and enticing me with a blend of hot and cold sensations. The space between my thighs pulsated with a renewed longing. Flames fanned up the side of my face, weaving their way across my neck and down into the pit of my chest. His touch breathed life into me slowly, showing me how far from paradise I had been all these years. All the while, his lips worshipped my body as if beholding an ancient goddess of mythology.

  As if I stood between him and the key to his happiness.

  His kiss stole into my soul, whispering vows of unending desire and love I did not deserve. When he touched me, every nerve awoke in response, enlivened beneath an arousal nearly kismet in proportions. Even without him, my body craved him, relying on the phantom memories of his touch to propel me into uninhibited ecstasy.

  There was no need to imagine my nights without him now. Not when he was so close, our bodies pressed against one another in the most intimate of dances.

  He was not yet ready to let me go.

  I had pushed him away for too long, denied our passion far too many times.

  I never told him what our love would cost. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that money was the only thing keeping us apart.

  He wouldn’t understand. A kind heart and loving soul like him deserved the world. He deserved a woman as devoted to him as he was to her, not someone embroiled in a family feud that had been going on for almost half a century now.

  And yet…

  No matter how hard I tried, I could not control the emotions consuming me. Every time I was with him, I wanted more.

  Once would never be enough.

  A lifetime would never be enough.

  Not anymore.

  Chapter One

  Lyndsey

  “The house is yours.”

  I shook my head. I could not have heard him right.

  My grandmother had left the family home to me?

  Lyndsey Saunders? The one voted most likely to travel the world as an inspirational guru was now being given a permanent residence in the form of my family home, Hummingbird Hollow.

  “There must be some mistake,” I said, my gaze shifting to each member of the family before finally landing on the estate lawyer, Mr. Philips. “I don’t need a house.”

  “Of course, you need a house,” Mama said, giving me a gentle shove. “You don’t expect to stay with us forever, do you?”

  I honestly hadn’t expected to stay anywhere.

  I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. It had only been two months since I graduated college. I had taken an extra year to make up for all the changes to my major I’d made, but it was definitely worth it to stay away from the rest of the family.

  My only regret was missing that last year with my grandmother.

  Now, I was expected to lay down roots in the one place that never felt much like home. If I had planned on putting down roots at all, the last place I would do it was my hometown of Madison, Mississippi. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with Madison, of course. It was just too familiar, filled with too many people who knew my name.

  Nothing like the world of adventure and excitement I saw for myself after graduating from college in California.

  I’d been back home for three days already, visiting with family and friends after my grandmother’s sudden passing. In those three days, I remembered exactly why I couldn’t stay in Madison for longer than a week—hell, longer than three days! And four of them sat in the very same room as me during the will reading, staring me down with glares that would turn any mortal to stone.

  Screw ‘em! I’d grown accustomed to my cousin Kyle’s dagger-like stares of jealousy. After he’d married five years ago, the next set of eyes to glance at me with hatred belonged to that of his trophy wife, Vanessa. It’s not like I’d done anything to prompt this timeless feud between us, other than dote on a grandmother who meant the world to me. But of course, Kyle saw this show of love and affection to be no more than a grasp at our grandmother’s inheritance.

  Because that’s what he would have done.

  But what could I say? I loved my grandmother. She could have been broke, penniless, senile, and calling me by my father’s name. I would have still called her everyday, would have still made secret visits to see only her whenever I had the chance. She had been the only one to believe in me, my greatest champion.

  My inspiration.

  And now, she was gone.

  Add in this newest revelation of me getting the house, and there was little I could
do to dissuade Kyle and his wife of their long-held suspicions that I was a money-grubbing tramp with an aim for our grandmother’s fortune.

  Her fortune never interested me. As for the whole tramp thing, I owned it.

  “This is insane,” Aunt Rose hissed, springing to her feet to shout across the table at Mr. Philips. Poor man. It wasn’t his fault. Though, he seemed to take great pleasure in watching my family unravel like threads in a cheap sweater. “The girl hasn’t even been here for three years, and she gets the family house?”

  “Not to mention our children have been the ones taking care of the business since Papa Saunders’s passing,” Uncle Charles explained. “They’ve poured their blood, sweat, and tears into making sure their grandparents’ livelihood thrived. They should at least get something for all of their troubles.”

  “Sit down, Rose,” Mama snapped. “There’s no reason to act like a barbarian in front of Mr. Philips. He’s just doing his job.”

  “Barbarian. I’ll—”

  “Well, that brings me to my next point,” Mr. Philips said, sorting through the files in front of him. A ruddy, round gentleman somewhere in his fifties, there was no telling how many family disasters Mr. Philips had witnessed over the reading of estate papers. From the looks of it, he’d seen his fair share of family members launching themselves across tables and arguing tastelessly over the unfairness of the decedent’s wishes. He barely even batted an eye at the spectacle my family was making, nor did he show any regret in delivering the next parcel of news.

  “When it comes to the matter of the family business...” Mr Philips added, in his slowest southern drawl. He paused, gesturing for Aunt Rose to take her seat before he continued—possibly to regain control of the room, though a sneaking suspicion told me it was also for his safety. “...that also goes to Jake Saunders and his lovely wife and daughter.”

  “What?” This time Vanessa was the one losing her temper.

  We were one act away from being a three-ring circus. I buried my head in my hands and groaned. Why did I come home? Why was I still here?

  A court order. One that says you need to listen to what your grandmother wanted and suffer the consequences.

  “There’s no way,” Vanessa said. Her chest rose and fell so violently that I recalled the steps for performing CPR in my mind. “There must be some mistake. Is this the updated will?”

  “Updated last July,” Mr. Philips said, completely nonplussed by the pure homicidal rage now directed at him.

  Aunt Rose leaned forward and jabbed an accusatory finger in the direction of my parents. “You two had something to do with this, didn’t you? Is this some sort of a lawyer agreement? Did y’all pay him off to inherit the entire estate?”

  “Now, now, Miss Rose. There’s no need for any of that,” Mr. Philips said, still as calm and collected as if remarking on the weather. “I can assure you, both Lizzie and Jake had nothing to do with the writing of your mother’s will. She was quite clear about what she wanted for her company and who she wanted to inherit the family home.”

  Silence.

  Aunt Rose and Uncle Charles remained tight-lipped, nearly vibrating in their seats trying to withhold their anger. As for Mama and Daddy, there could not have been a happier couple, even on a honeymoon cruise.

  I was the only one who found myself in the crosshairs. Between Kyle, his wife and parents, and even my own parents, I felt as though all eyes fell to me, searching for the answers behind how I’d snagged my grandmother’s fortune.

  In truth, I’d done very little.

  In my high school days, I visited grandma everyday. I helped her clean, made Christmas cookies with her every year, and helped her decorate the entire house every season. After I moved away, I still called everyday. I even surprised grandma on a few occasions, making a quick trip out to see her and help her set up before any big holiday event. Then, I’d disappear as quickly as I’d arrived, avoiding any contact with the members of the family who expected more from me than I was willing to give.

  To them, at least.

  When I wasn’t around, I followed all the basic Saunders’ family traditions and listened to all the stories my grandparents had to tell. Things my cousin cared very little for. All he cared about was embedding himself in the family business, taking over one day, and transforming it into a company all on his own.

  “Not to worry, though,” Mr. Philips said. “Y'all's children have also been left a sizable inheritance for their troubles. And, of course, they will also be allowed to remain involved in the family business for as long as they so desire.”

  “Allowed?” Vanessa snapped, rising to her feet once again and staring down her perfectly straight nose at Mr. Philips. “I’m allowed to stay on at the business that I’ve been working at for ten years, now? This is insanity.”

  Vanessa swiveled around to face me, her chocolate brown hair flailing from side to side in a flourish. I suppose it was meant to intimidate me, but I’d seen worse. “You haven’t heard the last of us. You won’t get away with this. I will contest this decision, and I will see you all in court.”

  Each remaining member of Kyle’s family stood, popping up one by one like ducks lining up in a row. They stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind them with a force that sent shockwaves throughout. The windows clattered. The china stacked in grandma’s hutch chimed their silent pleas to remain intact. Somewhere in the house, one unlucky photo frame fell to the floor.

  What was happening? Was I now stuck here forever? My grandmother couldn’t have meant for this to happen. She wouldn’t have wanted me to be trapped in a town I hated, surrounded by people who hated me back. I couldn’t even sell the house. Too many memories lingered within these walls to have its contents gutted, for me to allow strangers to take the place of four generations of Saunders.

  I couldn’t just leave it either. The taxes alone were astronomical. And it cost too much to leave it empty for several months out of the year, or indefinitely, while I went off in search of another destiny to call my own.

  I could slowly see my life slipping through my fingers like grains of sand draining through an hourglass. This couldn’t be my life. This couldn’t be how I’d live out the rest of my days.

  “Well, Miss Lyndsey,” Mr. Philips said, drawing me back to face him. He dangled the keys out in front of me, a knowing smile playing across his lips. The devil. He knew exactly how I felt, all the things running through my mind. He was too perceptive not to.

  And still he added, “Welcome home.“

  The remainder of the day passed without much bloodshed and tears.

  I figured I might hear from my cousins again at least once during the day, but they never showed. So instead, I resigned myself to settling into my home, my new home.

  My grandmother’s home.

  There was no configuration of words that made any part of that sentence sound right. How could I be a homeowner in a town I would’ve never imagined to call home again? Even worse, how could the one woman who made this place feel like home be gone?

  There were so many memories in this house, so many things that reminded me of my grandmother and all the beautiful holidays, birthdays, and events we had shared here in this house. The town deemed Hummingbird Hollow a historic site in the nineties. It survived the Civil War, countless decades of weathering, and about three major social events every year since the 1920’s.

  All I cared about was how I would ever be able to measure up to it.

  The twinkling of my phone drew my attention away from the nostalgia seizing me. I held it up to read the name and released a sigh of relief.

  Aly.

  If there was anyone who could brighten the mood of this moment, it was my college roommate and best friend. Aly had been distant for the past two months, jet-setting off to Europe for her huge honeymoon excursion and then plunging headfirst into the charity work she founded alongside her husband.

  Hell, even I’d be distant with a hunk of a man like that in front of me
. Not to mention all the adventure Aly faced exploring a new world and pursuing her dreams.

  What must that be like? Pursuing your dreams?

  Even with everything Aly had going on, she’d still found time for me when she heard about my grandmother’s passing. She’d made time to call me everyday and do a quick check of my emotional state before leaving me to my own devices. I’m not going to lie, it had been pretty touch and go there for a few days, but I pulled through.

  I could not have asked for a better friend.

  “Hey, girl,” I answered the phone. “How’s the charity work going?”

  “Everything’s fine,” Aly said. “We’re right on schedule to start operations next month. How about you? How did the reading go?”

  I passed from room to room, looking at trinkets along the way and recalling every memory attached to them. Somewhere overhead, I thought I heard a floorboard creak.

  What the fuck?

  My heart galloped in my chest, nearly leaping into my throat from the shock. Was there someone in the house?

  Old houses settle, I told myself.

  They made noises resembling ghosts traipsing through the halls and sounded eerily of footsteps in the night. I breathed a momentary sigh of relief, having convinced myself it was nothing for now. Luckily, I didn’t believe in ghosts. Though it definitely didn’t make settling into the house easier.