Taboo Love The Complete Series
Page 2
“Shit.” He pulled out quickly, but continued to hold me close. “Was that okay? I mean, I won’t get you—”
“No,” I said, his words cutting through my post-coital fog. “I’m good. No worries there.”
“Good.” He kissed my forehead. “Sorry I didn’t think to…”
His words went unheard as it hit me. I’d just fucked my step brother. What would Mom think? What would his father say? Suddenly, I needed to get away from him.
“I need to pee.” And I dashed for the bathroom.
After fifteen minutes, Shamus knocked lightly on the door. “You okay?”
I took a deep breath, then let it out in a long, slow sigh. “Yeah.” Then I rested my forehead in my hand. “I think so.”
“What’d you mean, ‘you think so?’“ Now he sounded concerned, and the door cracked open an inch.
I smiled up at him, though my mind swirled with confusion. Despite any of our differences over the years, Shamus and I were usually there for one another. At five years old than me, he’d developed a protective streak back when I was in high school, and he in college. I was a shy, awkward teen, and he let it be known in our neighborhood no one better bully Mary Quinn, unless they wanted a visit from Shamus Quinn and a few of his friends. I appreciated his compassion now, as I did then.
“How did this…happen?” I said.
He didn’t answer me at first. Instead, his gaze roamed over my naked body, and I noticed his attention zeroed in on my breasts. A quick glance down told me my nipples were still hard enough to cut glass.
He came into the bathroom, sat on the side of the tub. I tried not to stare at his nakedness, since part of me felt guilty for oogling my step-brother. But every inch of Shamus was pretty magnificent. Thanks to a sheen of sweat, his skin rippled and gleamed under the overhead light.
“You’re pissed at me,” he whispered, head down as he stared at his fingers.
“No.” I rubbed his broad shoulder to reassure him. “It’s just…us? This is a little weird.”
He shrugged, met my gaze. “What’s so weird about it?” His ice-blue eyes were so intense I forgot to breathe for a moment.
“We grew up together.”
He shrugged again, which I usually found infuriating, but it didn’t bug me so much tonight. “So did your mom and my dad. More or less. They knew each other since kindergarten. Kind of the same thing.”
Our parents were high school sweethearts who went their separate ways with college. Both got caught up in empty, unhappy marriages. When Shamus and I were teens, my mom ran into his dad. Since both were divorced, they rekindled their relationship quickly, and soon after I had a step-sibling to share a new home with. At first, admittedly, I hadn’t been too impressed with the idea of an instant brother.
“They never shared a house as brother and sister, though,” I said, finally coming up with another counter-argument.
He sighed, clenched his jaw, and I could tell he was getting irritated. We had a tendency to poke each other verbally, get into endless debates over who knew what. Our parents blamed us for every white hair on their heads.
“So, we fucked.” He threw a hand in the air. “So what? We aren’t related—not by blood. Don’t make a big deal out of it. You over-think every damn thing.”
“You already pointed that out.” I gave him my exasperated look, and rolled my eyes, which I knew he hated. “Don’t go all Irish hostile on my ass.”
He glared. “You’re trying to provoke me so I’ll storm outta here. I know. So fine. I’m going.”
He stalked out of the bathroom, and I watched his firm, strong ass move as he did so. Then chided myself for it. It was odd he’d leave so soon, though. Shamus rarely let me have the fight. He’d at least put up a valiant effort of quips, barbs, and outright shrieks before we conceded the match was over. I wondered if he regretted the unexpected sex?
I knew I didn’t, but wasn’t ready to fully admit that to myself. Still, my whole body tingled with the afterglow of raw, intense sex. It had been an amazing quickie. But could I really confess that to my step-brother?
***
Tommy had a 1989 Camaro up on one of the lifts when I arrived at the garage. He smiled a lascivious smile when he first saw me, obviously not recognizing me as Shamus’ sister. I’d worn my contacts again, some makeup, and slipped into some of the new clothes Addy had insisted I buy. She was determined to burn what she called my ‘frumpy wardrobe.’
“Holy crap.” Tommy’s eyes widened as I drew closer. “Mary? No. Where’s your glasses?”
“You’re the second guy to ask me that in less than two days.” The memory of Shamus between my legs at the sex club flashed through my mind. I couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“I swear I wasn’t staring at your boobs.” He ran a hand through his short, midnight-black hair and nervously focused on my shoes.
“No worries. I won’t rat you out to my bro.” I laughed, but the red baby doll t-shirt Addy had talked me into buying was a bit tight. I tugged at the hem and wished for a sweater.
Tommy looked relieved. Most guys who worked for Shamus knew he had a protective streak where I was concerned.
“Besides. We can’t mess up that adorable face.” I reached over and pinched his cheek. He giggled and blushed like a school girl, then murmured something in Puerto Rican, told me Shamus was in the office, and took off toward the lifts.
I was feeling particularly cheeky today, I thought to myself, and couldn’t hold back a self-satisfied smirk. I’d always thought of myself as dowdy and plain, and wasn’t really used to turning any heads—male or female.
My real father had been a distant and angry man. Mom got tired of the verbal abuse he heaped on me and her, and the constant cheating. The day she chose to leave him was one of the happiest days of my life. But my real father, I came to realize after Shamus left my place last night, set up some deep trust issues in me. I was so terrified of finding someone like him, repeating a pattern, I’d avoided relationships, and intimacy, far too much. Instead, I’d buried myself in books and work.
Shamus sat at a desk cluttered with papers, ledgers, and day planners. I’d never understand how he made sense out of the chaos, but he did. He’d taken over his father’s mechanic shop when he gave up a career designing cars.
“You just walked out,” I said, when he looked up but remained silent. “That’s not like you. Especially not after I’ve thrown your Irish temper in your face. You usually at least take a crack at the crazy Welsh I get from my dad’s side.”
He chuckled at this, but the effort seemed weary. Dark circles rested beneath his eyes. I wondered if he’d slept at all last night.
“What’s up?” I asked, leaning against his desk. I crossed my ankles and waited.
“What’s up?” He shook his head, scoffed. “I don’t get you Mary Rose.” He sighed. “Sometimes you act like you hate me. Sometimes you act like you like me. Then, last night… Which one is it?”
I looked at my shoes, wiggled my toes, crossed my arms over my chest. Anything to avoid eye contact right then. He knew I was avoiding talking about it, but also wanted to hash this out. I didn’t want to play head games with him, but, then, when it came to Shamus, I had a bad habit of playing head games with myself.
“I love you,” I said, continuing to stare at my shoes. “You’re my brother.”
He rubbed his face hard and sighed loudly. “I wish I knew exactly what you meant by that.”
Putting me on the spot always raised my defenses. “Well, what do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged, huffed breath out of his nose. From the corner of my eye, I could see he stared at me. When he turned his chair sharply toward the desk, I knew he was getting really angry at my avoidance. “That you had fucking incredible sex with me,” he suddenly yelled. “That you felt something. I don’t know.”
“Is that why you left?” I whispered, daring a peek at him from beneath my long eyelashes. “Because you thought I f
elt nothing?”
He stood then, and walked in front of me, putting his hands on his hips. “Maybe. Or maybe I left because, if I had argued with you, I’d have fucked you again.” He placed his legs on either side of mine as he drew closer still.
Heat flooded my face, and I looked at the wall calendar instead of him. “So, that would’ve been a bad thing?”
He wrapped one arm around my waist and stroked my cheek with his other hand, urging me to look at him with a gentle nudge of fingers. “You tell me.”
Blood thudded in my ears again, and I tried not to breathe too fast, too shallow. The situation was odd, but so very exhilarating. I’d fantasized many times about my once rebellious big brother. He’d been a bit of a hell raiser when still in high school—fast cars and a different girl every few months. His dad had worried about him, but Shamus had buckled down big time come grad year, and he’d pulled himself back to the straight A student he had been prior to his bad boy phase. He’d always been a bit of a loner, but floated between social circles. He could talk to the jocks, but wasn’t one of them, and he’d mainly spent his high school lunches in what we’d called “The Pit.” A place where the skids hung out to smoke cigarettes and, sometimes, weed.
But now, we were both all grown up, and I wasn’t sure what that meant. As he slid his big, grease-smeared hands under my shirt and up my back, pulling me closer, I forgot to worry about consequences.
I barely had time to think as his hungry tongue forced my lips apart and invaded my mouth. My palms flattened against his chest, and I thrust my tongue into his mouth in return. He unhooked my bra, and I didn’t protest. His hands slipped to my front as I wrapped my arms about his neck and drew him nearer still. I moaned into his mouth as his callused fingers curled around my tits. Insistent, rough fingertips pinched and rolled my nipples until they were rock hard.
“Is this your answer then?” he growled when he broke the kiss.
I opened my eyes and tried to make my passion-drugged mind think. “Hmmm?”
He picked me up and sat me on the edge of the desk. “Sex with me? Not so bad?”
I slipped my hands beneath the open throat of his flannel shirt as what he asked dawned on me. “Oh! No, no…not at all.” Then I kissed him again, yanking his shirt open. Buttons pinged and popped as they flew from the material.
“I should lock the door.” He tried to pull away, but I refused to let him. Instead, I reached down and grab a handful of his bulging cock through his jeans.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, tearing his belt loose. “Tommy’s the only one out there, and he’s busy.”
He needed no further encouragement. My pants were around my ankles in seconds, and my panties soon followed.
I enjoyed the feeling of his muscles beneath my fingers as I caressed a trail to his cock. My fingers slid around his stiff penis and I teased the hole with a fingertip. Warm, wet pre-cum soon coated my hand, and I ran my slick touch up and down his twitching shaft. In response, he spread my legs wider and fondled my soaking sex with two fingers. He slid one deep into my dripping hole and fucked me slowly with it at first, while I reached down with my free hand to rub my throbbing clit. When he slid a second and third finger in, my pelvis arched forward to meet his every thrust.
He finger fucked me hard and fast while I squeezed and stroked his cock. We kissed each other breathless, and soon I writhed against him as that pleasant pressure filled my cunt again. I ground two fingers hard into my clit, rubbing faster.
“Lean back,” he commanded. “I want to watch you come hard. Then I’m gonna fuck you and make you come hard again.”
He took my hand from his cock and guided it to my clit, as I complied and leaned back to give him a better view of my swollen, wet pussy. I pulled back the hood of my clit as he added a fourth finger to my cunt, increasing the intense ramming he gave me.
“Ohhhh yeeeessss…right there,” I shouted out as my fingers worked my clit as fast as they could. Intense release rocketed through my body, leaving my legs trembling and my whole being quivering. When he withdrew his fingers, I ejaculated all over his chest.
He smiled, then wiped some of my come from his chest. Sticking his dripping fingers in his mouth, he moaned when he tasted my juices. “Ummmm…now that is so hot, baby.”
And he wasted no time burying his thick cock in my pussy. His balls hit my ass as I took every inch of him. I tightened my cunt walls around his ramrod hard erection and enjoyed the feeling. I had no time to catch my breath after the orgasm, and his pounding cock against my extra-sensitive g-spot would soon bring me to another climax.
I sunk my short nails into his ass cheeks and curled my pelvis forward to meet his fierce thrusts. Papers went flying across the floor of the small office as I squirmed atop the desk, and he bucked against it.
I reached down to rub my pulsing clit again, just as the office door swung wide open.
“Boss—oh shit!” Tommy’s eyes met mine, and his went as wide as dinner plates. He covered his face and ran from the tiny compartment when Shamus whirled on him. “I am so sorry.”
Smiling, I wrapped my legs tight around Shamus’ waist and grabbed his face. “Don’t hit him, for God’s sake. It was an accident.” Sure, I was embarrassed as hell, but I didn’t want Tommy to suffer because we couldn’t keep it in our pants.
Grinning, he left me long enough to shut the door and lock it. “Now, let’s finish what we started.”
***
Taboo Love Part 2
Seduced
I laid in the after-fog of another great orgasm. My eyes remained shut, and my breathing evened out. Every muscle in my body relaxed, and I considered dozing, when I heard the click of a digital camera.
Sitting up, I found Shamus poised between my legs, lens of a slender silver cam pointing at my dripping cunt.
I blinked at my step brother. “Shamus Patrick Quinn, did you just take a pic of my pussy?”
He threw his head back and laughed at this, then hopped off the bed. “Indeed, Queen Obvious, I did. It’s for my cream pie collection.”
I slapped my forehead. “I’m not sure I want to know.”
Shamus turned to face me, displaying his glorious physique. “A cream pie is a pornographic term which refers to a man’s joy juice seeping from a woman’s sweet spot.” He flashed a grin that would make the devil proud.
I raised my eyebrows at him and slid from the tousled sheets. “Colorful language. Never any shortage when Shamus is around.”
He waggled a finger at me. “Come now, Mary Rose. The uptight routine doesn’t wear well on you. Besides, at this point, I know it’s a façade.”
“There’s nothing uptight about my dislike of euphemisms.” I poked a finger between his admirable pecs. “Now, for a second time, I ask you: Why are you working at a sex club?”
Shamus mocked a thoughtful expression, then gave me his wicked grin once more. “Why not?”
“Arrrghhh!” I shouted, pulling my hair as I stalked by him to enter the bathroom. “And you call me purposely evasive.”
I shut the door, but forgot to lock it. Soon after warm water hit my face and breasts, I felt wide, strong hands slide across my hips. I was urged backward into a solid, now damp, chest of muscle. Shamus wrapped his arms tight about my waist and kissed my temple. Already, his cock was fully hard. Its throbbing thickness pressed into my ass.
“You can’t keep that thing down for more than two hours, can you?” I tried to pull away, but he held me tight. My heart upped its pace once more, and I fumbled for a bottle of shower gel that hung from a handle. “So, about the sex club…”
“You’re trying to distract me from seducing you again, aren’t you?” He took the gel from my hand and held it up. “Completely edible, you know? I could slather this all over you and lick—”
“The club?!” My voice sounded sharper than I meant it to. I felt my face flush hot, and it wasn’t just due to the temperature in the steamy shower.
He gave an obviously ex
asperated sigh and rolled his eyes. “If you must know, because I want to.” He squirted a liberal amount of green, lime scented gel in his hand. “That, and I’m thinking of investing in the place.”
“Investing?” I tried to focus as he lathered up my tits with the citrusy soap, squeezing and kneading the firm globes. He paid particular attention to the nipples, rolling them between his slick, soapy fingers. A twinge of desire woke up in my cunt once more, and the fire spread up to my belly.
“Yes, I know one of the people who owns the place.” He bent over and his tongue flicked out, curling around my now taut nipple.
“That’s it?” My voice was hoarse, now, as he dug callused fingers into my ass and yanked me against his wet body.
“That’s it.” His ragged breath fanned my ear. “Now, please, Mary—try to focus. We’re about to have sex here.”
I certainly wasn’t satisfied with his explanation, but he was determined to render me unable to care. He trickled more gel into his palm then slid his slippery hand down my stomach. I spread my legs as his fingers moved lower to tease my clit.
After soaping up my own hands with the fragrant mixture, I caressed a trail down his chest and stomach, then I coiled my well-lubed fingers around his penis. My slippery grip was perfect, and I squeezed him hard as I slid my fingers down to his balls. There, I massaged his sack with my soapy touch until he groaned against my neck. His soft breath tickled my skin and I giggled. When my fingers once more reached the head of his cock, I teased beneath the glans with my slick thumb.
He growled something unintelligible and reciprocated, splaying my cunt lips wide and caressing my inner labia with two fingers, before returning to my throbbing clit. With a silky thumb, he traced slow then fast circles in the swollen flesh. He slipped two fingers inside my now quivering pussy, seeking my g-spot with insistent strokes while he ground his thumb harder into my clitoris.