Stupid body.
Stupid heart.
Needing to take my mind off things, I change into a bikini, throw on a loose summer dress, grab a towel, and head for the pool. I don't come across anyone but a few of the cooks and cleaners milling around the house doing their chores. It's two days after Christmas, and you'd think they would be home with their families. There's certainly more people here than there should be.
I make haste to the pool and pull my dress off. I dump my towel on one of the loungers and sink my way into the warmth of the pool. Completely submerged, I close my eyes and duck my head under water. When I reemerge, I start to take slow lengths back and forth. I don't count them, just go with the flow one way, then the other. My mind blank, I am happy I'm allowing myself this moment of respite.
I'm halfway back along one side when the clearing of a throat makes my ears prick. I stop, looking up to find Ethan standing at the edge of the pool with only a pair of trunks on. His body tall, lean, with the slight protrusion of pecks visible. His shoulders are broad and his stomach flat. I never realized he had such a great looking body underneath all those clothes he wears.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
I wipe the water dripping into my eyes and shake my head, trying to keep myself afloat. "Not at all." I swim closer to the edge as Ethan climbs down the ladder. At the last step, he turns to me.
"You know, you really shouldn't swim on a full stomach."
Wading my hands through the calm water, I smile. "I didn't eat that much tonight. What's your excuse?"
In amusement, he purses his lips. "I find it soothing to swim after a full belly." He looks across to the other end. "Bet I could beat you to the other end."
I poke my tongue out, biting it slightly. A juvenile move, but I like this childish side. "I bet you couldn't."
Without warning, Ethan launches himself into the water and starts a fast front crawl. Shocked and rather irritated, I follow straight after, unable to convey my annoyance. I barely have time to start a rhythm before he almost reaches the end. A couple seconds later, his hand touch the end, and I join right after.
"Hey, that's not fair. You cheated!"
Ethan smirks, his hair now wet and flat against his forehead. He always looks sexy, but wet Ethan looks even sexier. When his eyes dance over me in mischief, I recognize so much of Owen in him, and that familiar pang in my stomach surfaces.
"Savannah…what's wrong?"
My eyes downcast, I look into the water for a second to give me time to reflect.…
Damn you, Owen!
Knowing I have to come up with something, I look up, purposefully narrowing my eyes at him. "Last one to the end is a sissy nipple."
I launch myself off from the edge of the pool and race as fast as my body is able to the other side. I don't even look back, my lungs crying in pain, but I don't care. I reach the end, only looking once I've touched the side to find Ethan following shortly after.
"You tricked me!" he protests.
Trying to catch my breath, I raise one eyebrow at him. "And you didn't try that first? Shame on you, Ethan."
His eyes narrow with heat. Ethan places his feet on the floor and he's suddenly a lot taller. My eyes widen as he stalks toward me, and I find myself escaping to the corner of the pool until there's nowhere else to run.
"Keep saying my name, it's fucking sexy."
"Ethan!" I grumble, placing my hand on his chest. "That's disgusting. You do realize we're brother and sister now?"
Ethan eyes roll toward the back of his head in ecstasy. "Fucking hell, that's hot."
I giggle, pushing at his chest some more, then he grabs my wrists, holding me in place. My head snaps up to his, and our smiles disappear as our stares lock. My breath quickens, and he steps forward until we're inches apart.
"Ethan," I breathe, trying to move my head away. "We shouldn't be doing this."
His hands release me, and he steps back. "I'm sorry."
I look up, noticing the sincerity in his eyes. Guilt crashes through me, but so does desire—desire I haven't felt in a long time. He glances down, a sorrowful crease forming at his brow, and I find myself stepping forward, placing my hand on his chest again. He looks up, and I offer him an encouraging smile.
"You have nothing to be sorry for."
And then I do it.
The one thing Owen would kill me for.
I plant my lips ever so softly against Ethan's. At first, he's hesitant, but then he opens his mouth, poking his tongue out to dance with mine. A soft moan ripples through me, and he covers his arms around my hips, pulling me to him until I wrap my legs around his waist. He pushes me up against the edge of the pool and kisses me, harder this time. It's hot and heavy, reminding me of similar times with Owen.
Owen.
Angry I'm thinking of him, I try to push all thoughts of Owen out of my head and concentrate on the man in front of me. The man, who is single and charming, and makes me laugh.
The man who is Owen's son.
My mind wins over my body. One hand pushes Ethan away, our breaths heavy against each other's. "I'm sorry," I say, feeling like a dick.
Ethan's eyes swim over my face, a slight crease in his brow. "Savannah, it's okay. I came on too strong. I should be the one to apologize."
How on earth do I tell him it has nothing to do with how strong he came on—that part I loved—and everything to do with the fact that I’m obviously still hooked on his dad.
Shit, this is already getting complicated and we only kissed. I have no loyalties to Owen…so why does it feel like I betrayed him?
"It's all so soon," I reply, as some sort of explanation.
Ethan places a hand on my cheek, resting it there. "I know," he says softly. "I may joke about how fucking hot it is to be fooling around with my sister…" He stops a moment, then smiles back at me. "I can't lie for shit, can I?" Shaking my head, I giggle. "What I'm trying to say is I really like you. And I know that's bullshit because I'm only here a few days." He sighs, running a hand over his face. "For both our sakes, we shouldn't be doing this, because I don't want to leave here knowing I've fallen for a girl I can't have."
Be still my heart.
We've known each other less than a week, but we've been in the same house twenty-four-seven. Instantly attracted to each other, it's spiraled to this. Here. This moment where I want so much to kiss him again while knowing I shouldn't.
"I need to go get a shower." I move away, but catch a glimpse of his somber frame, his head downcast and shoulders slumped. Not wanting to witness anymore, I take the stairs and grab my things before racing for my bedroom.
I’m just about to get undressed from my bikini when the door slams open, making me jump. I gasp, trying to cover myself with my hands, only to find it's Owen on the other side. He snarls, walking in before bashing the door back.
"Someone will hear you!" I shout, my heart rate picking up.
"I don't fucking care!" he growls, stalking toward me until I'm backed against the wall. "You really think you can sneak around with my son and I wouldn't find out about it?" My eyes widen. "Yeah, I saw you. It took everything I had not to come in there and pull you out of the pool. Thank fuck you came to your senses and left, otherwise I would have made a big fucking scene."
Despite feeling bad he witnessed it, I poke at his chest with my finger. "You don't get to dictate to me. You're married to my mother, for fuck's sake!"
Grabbing my shoulders, Owen pushes me against the wall, shocking me. "Despite what you might think, I have been loyal to you and have been ever since we started. You really think I want to touch your bitch of a mother? You're wrong."
"Why!" I scream. "Why be with her?”
Frustration levels have reached new heights. This is not fun anymore. None of this shit is fun. My God, when did this situation between Owen and I get so messed up?
"Because I'm fucking trapped. Make of that what you will, but it's the God's honest truth."
Tears poo
l in my eyes. I don't know why I decide to cry. I guess it's just the last few weeks of pent-up frustration…and all of it about us.
When he notices my tears, Owen loosens his hold on my shoulders and trails his hand to my chest. He leans forward, brushing his head against mine, and I can't help but close my eyes, inhaling the scent of him.
"If you wanted to get me back for the things I've done, then mission fucking accomplished. But, Savannah, I swear, if you do anything other than talk to my son again, there will be consequences." Grabbing my pussy through my bikini bottoms, he squeezes my mound, causing me to yelp in both surprise and desire. I hate the fact that he can make me react to him—no matter how angry or upset I am with him. "This," he says, squeezing me even harder, until I moan against his neck, "is mine. I don't care what I have to do to keep it that way. Do you understand me?" When I don't answer, he squeezes one more time, causing another shot of need to ripple through me. "Answer the fucking question."
With a shaky voice, I manage to whisper, "Yes."
He pulls away, leaving me a breathless, puddled mess. He straightens his suit, adjusts his hair, and then does his level best to hide his huge erection. "Consider this your first and final warning. Anything that happens to you from here on out is your doing. Not mine. Just remember I warned you."
Leaving me still panting against my bedroom wall, Owen storms out, slamming the door behind him. It's only when I start to calm I wonder…
"What the fuck was that?"
The Sweetest Taboo
Sade
Five months ago
"Owen, dear, be a good son and get Savannah a nice cup of coffee. She looks pale." She pats my hand. "Did you not get much sleep last night?"
I laugh at Patricia and cock my head to a shocked Owen. "I believe Owen is the one who needs the coffee the most."
"Well, good. Then he can get himself one while he's being the gentleman I raised him to be."
I chuckle, hearing a sigh behind me. "Okay, Ma. I'll get Savannah a coffee. Do you want anything?"
Patricia smiles sweetly up at Owen from her bed. "No, I'm good, thank you." She waits until he leaves, then fixes her light green eyes on mine. At least I know where Owen gets them from.
"How are things at home?"
I pat her hand. "You shouldn't be worrying about things like that. You just had a major heart attack. Me adding to your stress isn't going to help."
"So, I take it all is not good with my son and your mother?"
"Deplorable," I answer, honestly before laughing.
"This is why I wanted to talk to you alone. No offense to you, Savannah, but your mother is not suited for Owen. I never understood why they got together. Can you?"
"No offense taken. I feel the same way. Owen deserves so much better than her. To be honest, it has remained a mystery to me also. I wish I did know why."
She thins her lips, nodding. "I thought as much. That's why I wanted to speak with you about possibly hiring a private investigator, but I didn't want to do anything first without your input."
My eyes widen a little in shock. I’m unsure of whether it would bring up anything, but it may be worth a try. "If it brings an end to our suspicions, then I'm all for it."
Her lips curve into a big, bright smile. "I hoped you’d say that. I wanted to let you know in case the PI brings up anything about her that involves you."
"I have nothing to hide, but it wouldn't surprise me if my mom did. I'm seriously okay with it, but I would like to be kept in the loop."
"Of course, dear. I will only be happy to. Why don't you come visit me at my house, say once every two weeks, or even once a month? You can tell your mom and Owen you're just humoring an aging lady who needs company."
I give her an incredulous look. "Why would I need an excuse to visit you, other than I enjoy your company? Aside from that, we're family. There should be no excuse to want to visit family."
Patricia’s eyes light up. "I knew I liked you for a reason. As soon as I'm out of this hospital, I will give the guy I know a call. He's normally pretty good."
A thump at the door sounds, and I look up, finding Owen standing on the other side, holding two cups in his hand.
Before I answer, I lean over a little to speak with Patricia. "I'm happy you're doing this. Owen should be happy, and unfortunately, he's not."
Getting up, she gives me a sad nod. I open the door to let Owen in, and he hands me my cup, smirking. "Black, right?"
"Yes, thank you."
The clink of the door sounds behind him. "So, what were you saying about me while I was gone? I know you only got rid of me to talk about me." Patricia and I give each other a knowing look before laughing. "Come on. Spill."
"Oh, dear boy, how can we tell when it's not for your ears to hear?"
I take a seat, blowing on the hot coffee before taking a sip. "If I don't come visit your mom, then I don't get to hear all the wonderful stories about you being the quarterback in high school and how every girl wanted to be Owen Montgomery's girlfriend." I give him a teasing wink, but all he does is puff out his chest, a conceited smile on his lips. I knew bringing this up would make him forget about the fact that his mom and I were discussing things behind his back. He may know it's a lie, but now he's had his ego stroked. It obviously doesn't take much.
"At one time, Owen had five girlfriends."
Snapping my head to Owen, my eyes widen. "Five!" I screech.
The smug gaze doesn’t waver. “Oh, come on. Don't give me that look. I was seventeen and my hormones were all over the place. Most boys that age are assholes. I was certainly no exception."
"Did they each find out about each other?" I ask, intrigued.
He smirks, nodding like the memory of it all plays back in his mind. "It kinda started when I called one girl by another's name, then I accidentally called one girl about a date, instead of the other. I guess I couldn't keep up with them. One night, I was at a party, and they all showed up, threw drinks over my head, and told me it was over."
"Silly boy," Patricia tsks.
"Ma, I was seventeen."
I giggle at Owen's defense. He's like a tyrant with everyone, but when it comes to his mother, he shrinks into a beta.
"Anyway, it made me more popular than ever." He laughs, and I roll my eyes.
"Oh, don't tell me. All the boys thought you were a legend, and all the girls wanted to become the next it girl on Owen's arm?"
Owen winks, and butterflies flutter in my stomach. "You got that right."
"Well, you aren't seventeen anymore," Patricia grumbles, obviously still unimpressed.
Owen exhales, his shoulders sagging. "Don't remind me."
I bite my lip, daydreaming about all the naughty stuff we've done so far. "You're still young." I smirk, conveying with my eyes what I want him to truly hear.
Owen inflates his chest a little, obvious pride in his stance. "That's quite the compliment coming from someone so young."
We carry on smiling at each other, and then, as if remembering someone else is in the room, we both glance back to the bed. Patricia’s head bobs from Owen to me, then back to Owen again, trying to work out what there is between us—if anything. I guess I was a little too informal with my stepfather just then, but it slipped out.
A beeping noise rings throughout the room, and Owen reaches into his pocket. He looks down at his phone, his forehead wrinkled in concentration.
"I guess that's work calling?"
Owen lifts his head and sighs. "Yep. No rest for the wicked, I guess."
Patricia waves her hand at him. "You go. It's important to keep on top of your business. I'm getting tired anyway. I need to take a nap."
Owen frowns. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure. Just bring me some proper tea next time you visit. The tea here tastes like piss."
I can't help the burst of laughter that ripples through me. I glance at Owen, who smiles along with me. "Sure, Ma. Anything for you." He walks forward, landing a kiss on her fore
head, and Patricia smiles adoringly.
"You are a sweet boy. You were always my favorite."
Owen laughs. "That's because I'm your only."
Grabbing his arm, Patricia gives it a little squeeze. "You'd still be my favorite, no matter what." Owen rolls his eyes. Patricia releases his arm, pulling up her sheet a little. "It's the thought that counts, dear. Now, leave an old woman in peace."
Owen’s head glances my way, his eyebrow raised. Deciding to ignore him for now, I walk up to Patricia, leaning over to plant a kiss on her cheek. "Rest well. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
Her smile warms my heart. "Thank you, dear."
Owen repeats my actions, and soon, we're in the car on our way to work. Owen had been silent the whole way. Until now.
"My mom likes you. A lot."
Turning to look at him, I frown. By the way he's staring out of the window, I'm not sure how he feels about it.
"I like her a lot."
At the sound of my voice, he turns his head to look at me. Those piercing green eyes almost make a gasp leave my lips. It never takes much.
"She never likes anyone."
I frown again. "I find that really hard to believe. She's always been nice to me."
Owen sighs, stroking a hand over his leg. "I don't know whether I like that."
I maneuver, turning to lean my shoulder on the seat so I can face him more. "You'd prefer she treated me like dirt?"
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