Forbidden Desires

by Jodie Griffin

  It was quiet on the other end, and when Bella finally spoke, her voice was lower, more forceful. “Are you touching yourself, Marcus? I can hear the roughness in your breath, and the slap of skin against skin.”

  He flinched, but he didn’t stop jerking himself off. “You can hear that?”

  “You’re on the speaker phone. I can hear it all. The sounds of you moving in bed, the sheets whispering as you move around.” She paused. “Are you aroused, Marcus?”

  He gritted his teeth at her bald words. “Christ, yes.”

  “What are you wearing?”

  “Not a damn thing. I took a shower when I got home, dried off and climbed into bed like that. What are you wearing?”

  “Not a damn thing.” There was a smile in her voice as she parroted his words. “But I didn’t say you could touch yourself, did I? You didn’t ask permission.”

  Vivid images of a nude Bella pummeled his brain, and her possessive words fueled the fire in his gut. His dick threatened to explode, and though he argued with himself about following her lead, he stilled his hand anyway. The anticipation of what might come next felt like riding a brand-new, unseen roller-coaster for the first time, blindfolded. He had no idea when the next big drop was, or when he’d scream out loud, but he knew he’d be guaranteed an amazing ride. “M-may I?”

  “Mmm. Not yet, I think,” Bella murmured. He groaned, and she laughed lightly. “I want you to put your hands under your head. Would you do that for me?”

  “Yes.” It might kill him, but yeah. He’d do whatever she asked, as long as she kept talking to him with that I’m gonna rock your world voice.

  “And I want you to spread your legs as wide as they can go, and pretend I have you tied to the bed so you can’t move. Can you do that?”

  He groaned again—or maybe it was more of a moan—but he did as she asked. He felt damn exposed but so hot it wouldn’t take much for him to come. Air from the ceiling fan twirling lazily overhead teased his aching cock, and he had to grit his teeth against the need to move. “Yes.”

  “Oh, I wish I were there to see this. I’ll bet you look delicious.” Her voice lowered, and shivers slid down his spine. “Is your cock standing straight up, or is curled against your belly, weeping for someone to touch it?”

  “Oh, Jesus, Bella. You’re killing me.” He was panting now, like a fucking dog. He hated it, but he loved it, and didn’t that make him some kind of sick sonofabitch? The thought was almost enough to make him lose his erection, but then Bella spoke again with that amazingly sexy, compelling voice of hers, and it made him hard all over again.

  “We haven’t talked about this at all. I’ve been avoiding it, hoping the feelings would go away. But they haven’t gone away for me yet. What about you?”

  He groaned. “Now, Bella? You want to talk about this now?”

  She laughed lightly. “You’re there, I’m here. No embarrassing face-to-face conversation. How about we at least agree to this? We both recognize we’ve got complementary tastes in sex, and leave it at that. We won’t use the words neither one of us is comfortable with.”

  “So we ignore the elephant in the room?”

  “Oh, we’re not ignoring it. We’re feeding it peanuts and whatever else it wants, caring for its needs, but we’re not naming it.” There was a pause. “Metaphorically speaking.”

  In spite of the weirdness of the whole situation, he couldn’t hold back the laugh. “You have a very unique outlook, Bella mia.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  There was another long pause, and for a moment, he wondered if she’d hung up or if the line had gone dead.

  “Bella? You still there?”

  * * *

  Bella sagged against the headboard of her bed, trying to stop her body from shaking. What the hell was she doing? Her personal experience with domination and submission was both limited and negative. She’d read things in books, and she had a vivid imagination, but what if she said the wrong thing?

  “I’m here.” Wanting her hands free, she put her own phone on speaker too and waited for Marcus to speak. It took her three tries to hit the right button.

  “May I touch myself, Bella?”

  Marcus’s voice was gravelly with need, and it set off goose bumps all over her body. It was also hesitant, and she wondered if he even knew it. As ultra-confident as he was in other things, he wasn’t confident about this, which made her feel better about her own inexperience. A little, anyway. Maybe they could learn together.

  He didn’t wait for her to answer. “I was thinking about you too, right before you called. About how we left things last week. You know, right after the elephant got loose.”

  His droll words startled her, easing some of her tension. Bella laughed. “Enough with the elephant. For now, leave your hands where they are. I want you to tell me what you were thinking.”

  Jesus, she hoped she didn’t sound like an idiot, because the thought of him waiting for her to tell him when he could touch himself was a huge turn-on. She hoped he was getting something out of it too.

  “I was thinking about how beautifully stunned you looked when I knelt at your feet. I imagined myself kissing your ankle, and then your leg, and the sweet spot behind your knee. I was just trying to decide how far you’d let me go before you put a stop to things when you called. But Bella? I’ve jacked off in the shower more than once this past week, thinking about you. Last night, I fell asleep at the station dreaming about you. You were straddling my chest. I could smell your arousal, but you wouldn’t let me touch you. I was begging you to let me lick your pussy, to make you come.”

  Bella swallowed hard. Far from being put off by his explicit words, she was turned on even more. Even more than wanting a man who accepted her desire to take control in the bedroom, she’d always wanted—needed—a man who wasn’t afraid to tell her what he liked, and what he fantasized about. “Did I let you?”

  “I don’t know. We got a damn call, and I woke up.”

  She laughed, and he snorted.

  His voice dropped, low and deep. “Would you have let me?”

  “Maybe.” She kept her voice soft, matter-of-fact. “It would depend on the mood I was in. Or the mood you were in. I might make you wait. Build the tension, let you get all worked up before I let you go over.”

  Marcus groaned. “What about now? Will you let me come?”

  She slid down in bed until she was lying on her side, her hand between her thighs. She stroked herself, sliding her fingers through drenched curls. “Keep talking, Marcus.” Her knuckle hit her clit, and her breath caught.

  “Oh, Jesus, you’re playing without me. Please, I’m begging. I need to touch myself.”

  And he was begging. She could feel the need for relief coming through the phone, the desperation he felt while he followed her rules, difficult as that might be for him. “One hand only. And slowly. You don’t come until I tell you to come. I know you’re wet. Rub your palm over the top of your cock and get your hand slick. I want to be able to hear it when you stroke yourself. And keep your legs wide open for me.”

  He moaned. “Christ. You’re going to be the death of me. I wish you were here to do this for me, Bella mia. Your hand would feel so much better than mine. Oh, God, now. Please. I can’t take it much more.”

  Neither could Bella, but she drew it out longer, until his breath was rasping in and out in time with the slow movements she heard him making. She was so close, herself. One more stroke was all she needed. One. More. Stroke.

  “Oh, God. I’m coming. Now, Marcus. Now.”

  His hoarse shout of completion echoed around her room.

  For several minutes, they both were quiet except for the sounds of rough breathing returning to normal. “Marcus?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You going to be able to sleep now
?” She didn’t push him any further than that. She had a feeling he’d reached his limit.

  “Yeah. It’s late. You should hang up. You have work tomorrow, right?”

  “I do. I’m done at four.” She stretched out on the bed, yawning, languid now from their mutual release. “And I’m meeting Edna, Alice and Myrtle for dinner. We go out for dinner the first Saturday of every month, and if they’re up for it, we do the Gallery Walk. I’m taking them to the new Italian restaurant on Market Street. Want to come? They’d love to see you.”

  She expected him to say yes, and she was surprised when he didn’t answer right away.

  “You don’t have to go. I just thought you might like to join us. No big deal.” She said it, but she didn’t really mean it. Edna, Myrtle and Alice were really important to her.

  “Are you sure they’ll be okay with it?”

  She got the feeling he was hoping she’d say no, so as much as she didn’t want to, she gave him an out. “They’ll love it, but it’s up to you. If you decide to come, meet us at the restaurant tomorrow at six. There’s a parking lot behind the building.” She paused, not sure what to say next, but her yawn decided for her. She could barely keep her eyes open. “Good night, Marcus. Sweet dreams.”

  * * *

  Everyone was ready to go by the time she reached the nursing home. Bella felt positively underdressed next to her friends. Especially Edna, who looked surprisingly like Queen Elizabeth, funky hat, gloves, and all.

  Hoping Marcus would decide to meet them for dinner, Bella had worn a different kind of outfit to work, one that made her feel sexy and strong. Knee-length skirt, wrap-around shirt that showed her assets, heels that made her feel taller and not quite so chunky. No understated librarian clothes for her today.

  They drove the short distance to the restaurant and pulled into the small lot behind the building at about five minutes past six. No Marcus. Bella worried her lip. Maybe he wouldn’t show. She got the women settled on the benches surrounding a bubbling fountain in the fenced-in courtyard between the restaurant and the parking lot.

  “What’s the surprise?” Myrtle checked her watch again. “It’s holding up dinner.”

  “Oh, quit the impatient routine,” Alice retorted. “Like you’ve never been late for anything in your life?”

  Bella grinned at the byplay and sat down on the bench. “It’ll be worth a few stomach grumbles, I promise.” If Marcus didn’t show up, she didn’t know what she’d do about a surprise. Maybe a special dessert. She’d give him a few more minutes, though. She turned to Edna and smiled. “You look beautiful.”

  Edna blushed. “Thank you, Bella. I like what you’re wearing. You should always dress like that. You look like a woman who knows what she wants. But there’s a little bit of worry in your eyes. Are you okay, dear?”

  Bella blinked. With nearly three hundred years of life between them, she shouldn’t have been surprised they’d notice. “I’m fine. I’m just—” Her words were cut off by the loud rumble of a motorcycle, and then silence.

  Boot heels struck the ground as the rider strode toward them. “Hello, ladies.”

  Bella’s heart stuttered, and in a move reminiscent of the first time she’d laid eyes on him, she turned her head and looked up at Marcus. If she’d thought he’d looked hot in his uniform, and even hotter in his jeans and black sweater, she hadn’t been nearly prepared for him dressed as a biker. Good God.

  A tight black T-shirt, black leather riding pants, black biker boots. And that black choker she loved so much, this time with a small silver band hanging off it. With his dark hair, his dark eyes and the dark shadow of a beard on his face, he looked like a fallen angel. Bad boy through and through, dangerous and dominant. And not submissive in any way, shape or form.

  Chapter Four

  Marcus ignored the elderly threesome watching him like hawks. He stopped in front of Bella and reached out to touch her cheek. She arched an eyebrow at him, and he felt his cheeks flush. He’d almost forgotten. His stomach tightened, but he swallowed his instinctual denial and kept his voice low, for her ears only. “May I?”

  She nodded, waiting serenely for him to make his move.

  He held out his hand and tugged her to her feet. Gently, he cupped her jaw and bent toward her, pressing the tiniest of kisses to her lips. Still, the bottom fell out of his stomach as if he’d just ridden that monster roller-coaster he’d thought about last night. Bella’s serenity was gone, her face a charming pink, her eyes just as shocked as he felt. And all that from one chaste kiss.

  He couldn’t help himself. He leaned close and kissed her again. Jesus, she tasted good. Smelled good. Felt good. He started to pull back, but she stopped him by slipping a single finger in the silver circle hanging off his choker, and pulling him close. His heart stuttered. That move, with her knuckles brushing against his throat, made his cock instantly hard.

  “You look incredible. Those pants should be illegal. Commando?”

  He wasn’t sure he liked playing this game in public, but he grinned at her choice of words. “Of course. Less chafing.”

  She held him close until Myrtle piped up. “Drop his leash, Bella. We’ll die of starvation while you stand there and look your fill.”

  He barked out a laugh, but it felt as though someone had pulled the rug out from under him. If a ninety-something-year-old woman could get a read on the particulars of their relationship, he was so screwed. Especially here.

  Bella let go of the choker, nipped his ear and whispered into it. “Would you be shocked if I told you she spent most of her adult life as Mistress to her late husband?”

  Marcus flicked his gaze toward Myrtle, whose face held a wistful look.

  “Now that you say it, I’m not surprised at all.” He stepped back, giving himself some breathing room—and a minute to get himself back under control. He took a deep breath. “Bella, before we go in there, there’s something I need to tell you. This restaurant? It’s—”

  “Well, if it isn’t my wayward big brother.”

  Marcus winced at the tone of his sister’s voice. He risked a glance at Bella, whose eyes went wide with Maria’s bratty words. “Hey, pest. Are Mama and Dad here?”

  “Like they’d be anywhere else at dinnertime? The restaurant has been crazy busy. Not that you’d know, since you’ve only been here twice since we opened.” Maria glared at him, her hands on her hips.

  He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Not now, Ree.” But before he could say anything else, Bella faced him and gave him a smile. A somewhat forced smile.

  “We should probably go in. I’d like to get everyone seated before they get too tired. And our reservation is for six-fifteen.”

  Alice let out a very unladylike snort. “Bella, you know us better than that. But I am hungry, and it smells good out here. Like garlic bread.”

  Edna shushed her. “Where are your manners? Let Marcus finish his conversation. Your stomach can wait five more minutes.”

  Apparently, Myrtle couldn’t let either of them get the last word. “Well, I want a glass of wine. Let’s go.”

  Bella shook her head ruefully, and Marcus just grinned. These three were a laugh a minute. Thanks to their timely comments, Maria looked torn between being a good hostess and ripping him a new one. Good hostess won out, thank God.

  As Maria led the trio of elderly women in, Marcus turned to Bella. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you last night. But part of what we talked about last week? More to the story, I think we said?” She nodded, and he continued, “It’s all tied up in this restaurant and my family and my ex-fiancée.” He paused. “Our parents own this restaurant together.”

  Bella smiled wanly. “Oh. So, is the food good?”

  “It’s delicious. My mother is one hell of a cook.” He held out his arm, and Bella tucked hers through his. Maybe this was go
ing to turn out okay after all. “Let’s go check it out.”

  He started for the door, then the other thing he wanted to say to Bella crashed in on him, and he stopped short. “Bella?”

  She turned to look at him, a question in her eyes.

  “My family. They don’t know I like—” Embarrassment heated his face, and his stomach soured. He looked away, then down at the ground. God, this was why he’d denied himself so long. How could he crave something that made him fear being found out? And what was it about Bella that made him want to push through that fear, to say screw it, it’s what I like?

  “Marcus, look at me,” Bella ordered. There was no other word for it. Her voice was stern and demanded attention, and it called to an innate part of him.

  He looked up, and as he did, she leaned forward and kissed him, not softly, not gently, but with utter possession. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  * * *

  Bella surreptitiously eyed the back of the restaurant, watching the kitchen door. Marcus had excused himself right after dinner, and he hadn’t been back to the table yet. She’d seen him go into the kitchen, and his sister Maria had followed seconds later.

  “Bella, dear?” Alice said. “Don’t you like your cannoli?”

  She smiled. “It’s delicious but I’m stuffed. I don’t know the last time I ate this much.”

  Edna nodded. “Quite tasty.” She dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “Makes a woman forget her diet.”

  Myrtle snorted. “I’m ninety-three. Diet, schmiet. I’m going to eat what I want when I want it.” She paused and grinned wickedly. “And what I’d really like is a nibble of Marcus. How do you feel about sharing, Bella?”

  Bella laughed out loud. God, she loved these women. “Nope. Sorry. I don’t share.”

  Edna—Edna, who was dressed like Queen Elizabeth—raised an eyebrow. “Oh, Bella. You don’t know what you’re missing. I was a nurse in Europe during World War II. One time, there were these two French soldiers and we...” Her voice drifted off, and her eyes got a faraway look in them. Alice nudged her, and Edna laughed. “Well, let’s just say sharing can be a beautiful thing.”