Forbidden Fruit: Volume 1

by Harley, Lisa M.

  With Gordon being Conner’s step-dad, regardless if we’re still together or not, I could never let him know my secret. I pried his hands off me as I shook my head, letting him know he’ll never know the truth. I stepped back just as I saw a flash in the distance and I squinted my eyes, trying to get a closer look.

  “Reporters,” Claude sternly said as he walked over to us, standing in front of where the flash came from. “I suggest you don’t touch her again,” Claude instructed Conner with an annoyed inflection. Conner quickly threw him an angry glare and then focused his attention back toward me.

  “So it is him,” Conner shook his head as he frowned. “Is it because he’s an older guy? Or maybe you like the protective type.” He took a step closer and pulled me against his hard body. His hands ran through my hair, gripping me tightly just as he did when he fucked me hard last night. He roughly grazed his lips against my cheek as his words tickled my ear. “Let’s see how jealous we can make him. Maybe he’ll fuck off. Does he know how I thrust my cock into you last night?” I inhaled sharply and the small brush of my breasts against his chest sent shivers through my core. I swallowed, attempting to try to contain my elation as he asked, “does he excite you like I do?”

  “Lina, come help me push Tinder!” Mitchell called out, causing me step away from his brother. I glanced at Claude, who was giving me a smirk. The small shake of his head, made me wonder what he thought of all this. Quickly composing myself, I walked over to help Mitchell and…Tinder.

  After Conner and I chased Mitchell and his friend around the playground, and some small talk with his new friend’s mom, it was time for lunch. I’m sure the child’s mom was wondering why I was there with two men; both of which at some point in time I touched flirtatiously.

  Once we returned to the house, I made lunch for all three of us in the kitchen. Claude met with the other security men, probably to discuss the upcoming interview tomorrow.

  “So, what’s your favorite color, Angelina?” Conner asked right before he took a bite of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Mitchell had insisted we all eat the same thing because it would be more fun that way. I watched a dollop of deep purple jelly fall from Conner’s sandwich onto his plate as he put down the half sandwich.

  Conner’s comforting tone made me feel like I was speaking with an old friend. It seemed so different than with Gordon. It was easy going with Conner just having lunch together. Thinking back, Gordon and I rarely had time for lunch with one another since we were so busy sneaking around. Something as simple as eating lunch with Conner just felt enjoyable.

  “Red,” a small voice called out through a mouthful of food. I looked down at Mitchell and laughed. Every game we’ve played together, he already knew I would always choose red.

  “That’s right. Red. Very good memory, silly.” I wiped his mouth as I made a funny face at him.

  “Really? That’s funny,” Conner remarked, shaking his head.

  I wondered if he was making fun of me so I asked, “Why would that be so funny?”

  “Because it’s Conner’s favorite color too!” Mitchell called out enthusiastically while he laughed.

  “It is?” I asked the little boy as he grinned up at me and then looked up at Conner who was nodding.

  “It’s the most meaningful color. The broad range of feelings the color evokes from people is astounding.” The tone of his voice turned sincere and passionate. I watched his expressive hand gestures as every emotion he felt came through while he continued to explain further. “It shows love, passion, but it can also show hatred or anger. It’s the color of love and yet, at the same time, it can represent the fires from hell.” His green eyes deepened with intensity, but there was something more to it. Something, I couldn’t figure out.

  “You sound as if color means a lot to you.”

  “My big brother is an artist. He’s going to be the best in the world. Well, mom says he can’t be, but I say he can.” Mitchell proudly stated as his little eyes pulled together to make sure I realized how serious he was. I glanced up at Conner and noticed his cheeks were…ironically, reddened just like our favorite color.

  “You’re a painter?” I asked, completely surprised that a man seeming to be on the path toward government relations would be an artist.

  “Yes. Well…” He sheepishly grinned as he turned back to his sandwich and moved it around his plate. “I’d like to be, but I have to study politics. It’s just something that I’ve toyed with.” He turned to Mitchell and ruffled his hair. “It’s supposed to be a secret between us guys, but someone likes to blurt things out!” He tickled his little brother who was giggling and trying to pull out of his brother’s reach.

  “Do you have any finished paintings?” I asked above the laughter. Conner stopped tickling Mitchell and went back to poking at his sandwich.

  “A couple,” he sheepishly answered, averting my eyes.

  Mitchell jumped off his stool and tugged at my hand. “I know where they are!” He continued to pull me to standing as I looked back at Conner. He looked slightly tormented, as if he were debating what to do.

  “Do you not want me to see them?” I stopped walking as Mitchell continued to pull my arm toward the door. His little body was attempting to drag me with everything he had.

  “Well, I do. I just…you probably won’t like them. I’ve never really shown anyone, well, outside this family.”

  Moments later we were viewing his beautiful paintings in Conner’s room. He had them hidden in the back of his closet and a few of them had to be dusted off. I smiled as I viewed them. I wasn’t really a connoisseur of art, but my father had taught me a few things to look for when we would occasionally visit an art museum when I was little.

  “They’re beautiful,” I remarked as I continued to view and study each one. The vibrancy of colors he used and the sweeps of his brush strokes along the canvas were intoxicating. Some of the paintings were abstract, but there were a few where he attempted portraits.

  He shrugged as I watched him walk toward the closet again, mumbling a thank you under his breath. He pulled out a box of wooden train tracks and placed them in front of Mitchell. Eagerly, his little brother dug into the box and began to build his own little railroad. I glanced back at Conner, who was starting to put back the canvases through the doorway he had just taken them from moments ago. I touched his arm as he began to put away my favorite one. Deep reds and swirls of gold tones created a stunning painting, at least to me it was.

  “Could you leave that one out, please?” I asked, still admiring the canvas. Conner nodded as he sat down in his desk chair.

  Our afternoon filled quickly with easy chatting of how he started painting and my limited knowledge of painting from my father. Conner’s passion in his art was apparent as he remarked that is what he truly wishes to do. He made it clear that he hated politics, which seemed to be so different than everyone else’s feelings in this household.

  Sitting on the floor, we both regaled stories of our childhood and things that we had done. Before we both knew it several hours had passed. Mitchell had fallen asleep near the train tracks for a while now.

  Leaning in closer, we both seemed to smile anticipating our lips touching again. A familiar thrill ran through me that I hadn’t felt since my first kiss with a boy. It was eager, tender and sweet. Our lips were so close and we both let out a small chuckle as if we were daring each other to lean in first. It was so different than the intense charge we had last night when we didn’t know each other. My heart beat faster as I glanced to his mouth.

  “Conner!” Gordon’s voice rang out from somewhere in the hallway, jolting both of us from our tender moment. We both stared at each other for a moment, disappointed that our mini-spell was broken.

  Conner scratched his head as he grimaced. “I’m in here Gordon!” He called out as we both continued to stare at each other, unwilling to fully break our connection. Meanwhile, my mind started to whirl at the oddness of my old and new lover about to be in th
e same room together.

  Gordon popped his head in the door, the smile he had on his face fell immediately as his eyes darted between us. “Conner, your mom is looking for you. She needs to discuss some points with you before the interview tomorrow.” The sternness in his voice gradually became more intent as he spoke.

  I looked down at my hands as I began to fidget with my nails. I quickly looked up to Conner as he told me, “I’ll catch up with you in a little while. Maybe we could head out to dinner? Alone?” I swallowed, wondering what Gordon was thinking as he stood there hearing his stepson ask me out on a date.

  “Uh. I…well, yes. I’m sure that would…”

  “She can’t,” Gordon interrupted quickly. His voice was tight and angry. “She has to watch Mitchell tonight since Lauren and I have a banquet to attend tonight.” I nodded unsure of how else to respond to Gordon. I was, after all, Au Pair to his child.

  “Oh, all right. Well, maybe I’ll have some mac ‘n cheese with you guys then.” Conner quickly shrugged off Gordon’s attempt to separate us.

  “Actually, you’re supposed to attend tonight also. With Mary. Did you not read your schedule for today?” Gordon’s tone was sharp and slightly demeaning. I guess I’ve never seen this side of him and I surely didn’t like it. Especially with a person I was already really starting to feel something for, even after such a short time frame.

  Conner’s apologetic eyes met mine as he gave me a small pressed smile. “We’ll just meet up tomorrow then, I guess.” He reached out and cupped my hands, giving a small squeeze. Just that small sweet touch sent a wonderful thrill through me. I smiled back and nodded to let him know that would be fine. He stood quickly and made a small joke about not keeping Lauren waiting and left.

  Gordon paused a moment before stepping inside the doorway. “Are you seeing him now?” He asked with a tight voice and I noticed he was now grinding his teeth.

  I dragged my index fingernail through the strands of beige carpeting as I contemplated how to answer him. “Are you?” He repeated as he took another step toward me. I shrugged since nothing was ever really discussed between Conner and me. “He’s getting married, you know.” My head snapped up to meet his eyes, which seemed like they were daring me to object to what he was saying.

  “’Lina…” Mitchell moaned, thankfully awake at the right moment. His little eyes fluttered open as he looked over to his train set. “Look what I did,” he proudly stated as he pointed to the wooden pieces placed together in a figure eight.

  “I would highly advise you stay away from Conner. You never know what could happen,” Gordon threatened with a taunting lilt as he walked out of the room.

  I stared at the empty doorway wondering what he really meant by that. Claude’s information from earlier at the playground seemed to ring a little truer than I wanted. I hoped they were both wrong. Either way, perhaps I should keep my distance from both Gordon and Conner. Although living under the same roof might prove to be quite difficult.

  Chapter Eight

  Angelina

  After a long day with Mitchell, I finally had time to myself. I decided a hot bubble bath was long overdue.

  Seeing Conner’s paintings, allowed me to see him in an entirely different light. He was passionate about his work and it showed through his art. They were beautiful and meticulous, displaying various emotions he felt at different times during his life. The one painting showed how troubled his life was during his parents’ divorce, although he never really shared why they divorced. I was glad he told me that he and his father have a very good relationship, but I couldn’t understand why his father would allow his son to be pushed toward the political lifestyle Conner didn’t seem to really want.

  I began running the bath and indulged in a few too many bubbles. I swirled my fingers under the warm water to make sure it was the perfect temperature for a luxurious bath. I slowly unbuttoned my blouse feeling the weight of the day lifting with every button I unfastened. As I tugged at my shirt, I skimmed my skin underneath, feeling how soft it was from my favorite body lotion. My sister sent me a care package full of my favorite things. The body lotion sold only in France was one of those items. I let my shirt fall to the floor and started to unzip my skirt, thrilled that the all my concerns were stripping away from me with every piece of clothing I removed.

  Fastening my hair into a messy bun, I stole a glance in the mirror. The reflection showed a young woman in her bra and panties with a fantastic body. Firm from exercise and watching what I ate, I was proud to know I did these things for me, not for Gordon. Or Jacques. Reaching back to the clasp on my bra, I opened it and let the lacy garment fall to the ground. I let my fingertips swirl small circles around my firm small breasts. Gordon had told me he would pay for larger fake ones. Like a fool I considered it, for him. I cupped both mounds of flesh in my hands and squeezed, feeling arousal sweep through me. These were perfect in my eyes, but not to his.

  My teeth tugged the corner of my bottom lip and I felt my nipples harden to tight buds, as I imagined Conner’s tongue lightly sweep over them. Tonight, it was just me and I was going to enjoy that time to myself. I slipped my hand down between the silky fabric of my panties, feeling the slight dampness between my legs. “Mmm,” I let out a moan, hoping no one would hear my sounds above the running water.

  I had lost myself being with Jacques and Gordon. Both of them telling me what they wanted, how they wanted to change me. Like an idiot I almost let them talk me into changing my body or my mind — for them. As I circled my finger around my sensitive area, I knew that I was perfect the way I was and wouldn’t change. Not for anyone. Any future lover, perhaps Conner, would need to realize that. With a firmer grip to my breast, I let my head fall back as I pressed harder on my nub, wanting a release by the person who knew me best. Me.

  Pressing my lips together, I closed my eyes and continued to picture Conner. His beautiful deep green eyes were passionate and lustful. The way his hands roughly gripped my body and the strength of his hold as he fucked me hard over the sink. I pressed harder against myself, knowing I was so close as I continued to remember the way Conner was with me. Another moan escaped my lips and I prayed it wasn’t too loud that time.

  My hand froze as I heard a knock on my door. It was my door, wasn’t it? With the bathwater running, I wasn’t too sure I even heard a knock.

  Knock. Knock. I realized I had actually heard someone at my door and quickly shut off the water. I was so close and even thought about forcing a quick orgasm when I heard another small knock. Merde. Maybe I moaned louder than I thought.

  Dismissing my selfish thoughts, I washed my hands and donned my black silk robe from behind the door. The same black silk robe given to me by Jacques; only when he had given it to me, the sash I was now fastening around my waist, was used by him to tie me to his bed. Hearing another small rap on the door interrupted that lustful memory and I quickly walked toward the door. It could be Mitchell with another bad dream. He usually came to my door first before his own mother’s since I spent more time with him during the day.

  I swung my door open, looking toward the ground expecting Mitchell and his crying blue eyes. Instead, I saw manly bare feet peeking out of the frayed hem of blue jeans. I continued to sweep my eyes up muscular jean clad thighs, a white V-neck t-shirt followed by a gorgeous dazzling smile on a very handsome face. My libido was already revved, but memories of that smile flashed through my mind and kicked up those flutters. Glancing at his muscular arms locked on each side of the door frame only added to wanting them wrapped around me. Or his hands gripping my ass again.

  I licked my lips as my heart rate picked up. Right then and there I not only wanted him in my bed, but also inside me. Just as hard as the other night. “Conner,” I breathed out his name, not even trying to conceal my desire.

  An upturn on the side of his mouth and he quickly licked his lips as he quirked his head to the side. “Angelina, my dirty little French Au Pair.”

  “Can I help you?”
Or have you again?

  His eyes glanced down my body and I realized I hadn’t tied my sash as tightly as I had thought. As excited as I already was, I went ahead and leaned against the door, allowing my black silky robe to fall open a little more. The glint in his eyes and a full seductive smile let me know he definitely noticed. It was that same appreciative smile he showed me at the bar when he enjoyed my silky smooth legs.

  Dropping his arms down from the frame, he slid one hand around my waist and pressed his body against mine as he closed the door behind us. My breath hitched as I felt how hard he was through his jeans. Without remorse, I pressed my mound against his hard thigh, losing whatever thoughts I once had about him and his fiancée that he may or may not be broken up with.

  His soft lips roughly took mine as our tongues lashed against each other and I couldn’t help but push myself harder against his thigh. The memories of the other night swarmed me with familiarity as my hands grasped his strong neck to pull him even closer to me. Between the warmth of his tongue, the feel of his hand as he clutched my hip, the silk of my robe sliding along my thigh all collided into one overwhelming whirlwind of sensations. Oh mon Dieu.

  My chest was rising and falling so rapidly and my tight nipples were brushing against the satiny fabric. When his hand slid under the silk, skimming my soft skin, I thought I would come immediately. I swallowed and let my head fall back. I felt his tongue against my throat and his hand grabbed my entire sex as he growled, “You’re so wet. I need to be inside you.”

  Abruptly removing his hand left me feeling completely deserted and I whimpered my displeasure as I opened my eyes. His hand wrapped around my waist as he bent down slightly and pulled me up into his arms. Carrying me over to my bed, his lips found mine as if he couldn’t wait to taste them again for just those few steps.