Forbidden Attraction: A Contemporary Romance Box Set

by K. C. Crowne

  "You guys are no fun," I moaned.

  “We need to get some better records in that thing,” Dylan said. “I can't handle the cheese.”

  “Yeah, we need some Metallica or something,” Lucas replied.

  “Or Red Cherry!” Jackson added.

  They'd been his favorite band since he was twelve. One of my strongest childhood memories was the two of us jumping up and down on his bed screaming the band's hits out with Carly pretending to be lead singer, Corey, as she yelled into her hairbrush.

  "Hey, did you hear Red Cherry are playing Station Springs in a few weeks?" Jackson asked.

  "Let me guess, you've already got your ticket."

  "You're fucking right I have. It'll be the gig of the century."

  "It's so weird that a band that huge are gonna be here in this little nowhere town. They could pack out any stadium."

  "True," Jackson said, reaching to refill his coffee. "But Corey grew up here until he was ten."

  "He did?"

  "Yep, and he's pretty nostalgic about Station Springs. I was watching an interview with him the other day. He said here was the only place he wanted to be this Halloween."

  "Wait, don't tell me Red Cherry are playing the Halloween festival?" Lucas asked, his ears pricking up. "That'll be fucking dynamite!"

  "I know!" Jackson exploded. "Best night ever."

  This was the first time I'd ever seen him get excited for Halloween. When we were growing up, he thought the whole thing was a great big cringefest and refused to dress up.

  "Red Cherry in Station Springs," Dylan mused out loud. "That's surreal. It's like having Elvis suddenly turn up."

  "Or Marvin Gaye," I chimed in.

  I was met with a synchronized chorus of groans.

  In the background, his song drifted off into silence. I thought about picking another record but was pretty sure nobody wanted to hear me singing again.

  We ate in silence for a while, with Lucas occasionally yawning and groaning to himself. Meanwhile, Dylan stared into Tracey's face across the counter.

  "Is anybody heading out tonight?" I asked, trying to pick up the conversation.

  "Nah," Lucas replied. “I’m on chicken pox duty.”

  "Nope!" Jackson said. "Gotta stay in with Gabby."

  "And I've got a hot date," Dylan offered, reaching across the counter to tickle Tracey.

  She giggled and stared at him lovingly. It was enough to make me sick.

  "Since when did you fuckers get so boring?" I asked. "I was hoping at least one of you was up for a night down at Flannigan's."

  "Aw, man I've not been down there in ages," Lucas said. "Or any bar come to think about it."

  The thought of not having the guys to go out with made my heart sink. I remembered the days when it was us four against the world. Every night was party night and the drinks flowed constantly. Flannigan's used to be one of our favorite haunts. It had the coldest beer, the best tunes, the most pool tables in town, and of course it had Alan behind the bar who was always eager to give us a veteran’s discount.

  I was happy for my team that they had all found happiness, but it still sucked a little on my end.

  "Hey!" Tracey said. "Did you hear what happened there last night?"

  "No," Jackson replied. "Did the hot sauce finally kill someone?"

  "No, but there was a huge fight."

  "There's always a huge fight there," Lucas laughed.

  "No, I mean a huuuuge one. Apparently, some loser guy started getting all rough with his girlfriend and she whacked him over the head with her beer bottle."

  "Ouch!"

  "And he went totally apeshit. Tried to punch her and everything until Alan and the bouncers threw him out."

  "Sounds like a right royal asshole," I said. "Any idea who he was?"

  Tracey shook her head.

  "Nobody I know. Although I've seen the girl down at Flannigan's a few times before. Blonde hair, really pretty, super athletic."

  "Sounds like my kinda girl," I chuckled. “Her man sounds like a dick, though. Who hits a woman?”

  “Cowards,” Jackson replied. “If I find him, I'll kick his ass myself. Not having a woman beater in this town if I have anything to say about it.”

  “No the fuck we are not,” Dylan agreed. “If you find out who he is let us know.”

  Tracey kissed his cheek and cooed over him.

  “You're such a hero,” she smiled, kissing him on the nose.

  I rolled my eyes and looked away. I couldn't stand the sight of those two anymore.

  “Right guys I'm heading down to the office.”

  “Me too!” Jackson and Lucas replied in unison.

  Dylan was still staring into Tracey's eyes. We left him there giggling and kissing her like fourteen-year olds.

  “Those two are so sickly sweet they're gonna give me diabetes,” Jackson said as we got into his truck.

  “Aw, don't tell me you and Gabby aren't like that?” Lucas laughed.

  “Not in front of people!”

  As we drove away, I wondered if I was missing out on not having a girlfriend. I mean, sure, I loved women just as much as any hot-blooded man did, but a relationship? Screw that. I was still young. Still free. And the last thing I wanted was to be tied down with kids suffering from chicken pox or a pregnant fiancée who demanded pickles at five in the morning.

  Nope, I thought as I leaned back. I'm doing just fine on my own.

  Afternoon rolled around and I found myself sitting outside the Physical Therapist's office wondering if I really needed to be there. The waiting room was sparse and filled with nothing but three white seats, a cheap painting of a boat on the wall, and the smell of disinfectant thick in the air.

  Medical environments made me nervous at the best of times. It reminded me of being in Afghanistan and seeing friends screaming in agony in the medical tent.

  They reminded me of waking up after the night in the bunker and seeing Carly's crying face hovering over mine. I'd spent weeks in the hospital then and coming back to seek treatment felt as though I was putting myself right back into that sterile, serious environment.

  This was probably a mistake. I don't need a therapist. I just need to work things out on my own. Just need to-

  "Jared Maguire?" came a bright voice that interrupted my thoughts.

  I looked up and wondered why a beautiful woman was standing in front of me expectantly. Did I know her?

  I opened my mouth to speak but felt as though I'd forgotten how.

  Those eyes.

  They were the brightest blue set into a finely featured tanned face framed by dark auburn hair. The more I stared at her, the tighter my chest became. She was actually taking my breath away.

  Gradually, my eyes drifted down from her face to her body. She was dressed in light blue scrubs that accentuated the color of her eyes. A kind smile was spread across her rosy pink lips.

  "Mr. Maguire?"

  "Uh, yeah?”

  Why are you acting like a bumbling oaf? Yes, you're Jared Maguire you fucking idiot!

  "Yeah, yeah. That's me and you are..."

  "I'm your Physical Therapist here today," she said, moving forward to shake my hand. "My name's Megan."

  Her hand slipped into mine to give me a surprisingly firm handshake, but her skin was silky to the touch. When she pulled away, I felt the palm of my hand tingle as my skin remembered her touch.

  "Please," she said, walking toward the door. "Right this way."

  I followed her into the examination room and for the first time in my life, I found myself excited to have a medical assessment.

  "Okay," she said, looking over the form I'd filled in before my arrival. "Why don't you just pop up on the table here, and we'll take a look. It says here that you're having some trouble in your thigh from... Oh wow, from a bullet wound."

  "Yep, that's right," I said, lifting myself up onto the table.

  Holy shit, I can't believe she's my therapist. She's a real fucking firecracker. The
hottest girl I've ever seen in this town.

  As she put down the paperwork and walked toward me, I couldn't help but study the way she walked, with graceful movements and measured steps. Despite the unflattering cut of her uniform, I could tell she was fit and muscular with a strong, perfect posture. As she grew nearer, I could see how perfect her golden skin was, how plump and moist her lips were.

  Beneath the smell of hand sanitizer, I caught the scent of her perfume mixed with the heat of her skin. I found myself breathing it in, my cheeks growing hot as she reached out to touch me.

  "Okay, how about you lie down?" she suggested.

  She held a hand on my shoulder to help maneuver me into place. It was nothing but an innocent touch, but it sent an explosion of tingles all the way up my neck. Leaning over me, her breasts lightly grazed against my rib cage, and my heart started racing.

  "Okie dokie," she smiled. "Let's take a look at this leg of yours. You'll have to tell me everything about this injury. It's not often I get patients in here with bullet wounds."

  She placed her hands on my knee and rocked it gently from side to side.

  "I'm just having a quick look at the muscle tone," she explained. "And, can you raise your leg up slightly for me? Yep, like that, try and resist my hand. Fabulous. You're doing great. You're very strong."

  "I'm sure you heard all about it," I told her. "It was all over the news at the time."

  "It was? Oh, I don't read the news much. Too depressing."

  “Huh. You don't read the news. So you never heard about Benny Gianni Junior kidnapping my sister, then.”

  She paused, hovered over me, her eyes growing increasingly wider.

  “The gangster... He kidnapped your sister?” A glimmer of recognition came into her eyes. “I just realized who you are,” she said. “You're quite the talk of the town, getting shot while invading an underground Mafia bunker to save your sister and her best friend.”

  “So you have heard of me.”

  I waited to see the flicker of admiration in her eyes, but she appeared unbothered, and simply continued placing her hands back on my knee and shaking it from side to side.

  “So I suppose you heard a sniper shot me right through my thigh here.”

  “Yeah, that's what I heard.”

  Again, she appeared almost disinterested.

  “I nearly died. Almost bled out,” I continued. “But you know, that's just another day in the life.”

  “Uhuh. Can you lift your leg this way toward me? Yep, like that. Thanks.”

  “I was in Afghanistan as well. Iraq too.”

  “That's interesting. Now can you bend your foot like this? Yeah, just press the ball of your foot against my hand. Really try to resist me. Yeah, that's great. Now can you tell me if it hurts when I move you like this?”

  She grabbed the heel of my foot and bent my knee so it was at a right angle.

  Is she even listening? I just told her all this badass stuff about me and she's more interested in twiddling about with my knee.

  “Yeah... It was pretty touch and go for a while,” I said, pointing down to the circular scar in my thigh where the bullet entered. “I guess you wouldn't know what it feels like to be shot, but it's like pure fire tearing through your flesh. I was convinced I was dying. But, you know, I've been shot at a whole bunch of times. I guess I should be used to it by now.”

  “Uhuh. Okay let's see how your hip moves.”

  What the fuck? This chick is cold as ice.

  “Oof, it's hot in here,” she said, beginning to pull off her sweater. “I swear they have to have the heat cranked right up to tropical temperatures or they think we'll all die of hypothermia or something.”

  I watched as she pulled her sweater up over her head, her scrub top riding up just enough to show a hint of her strong abdominal muscles.

  Woah, she must work out.

  There was nothing hotter than a tough chick. Now, in just her shirt, I could make out the definition of her biceps. They weren't big, but they were sculpted leading up to strong, rounded shoulders. My guess was that she hammered away at kettlebells in the gym doing a series of jerks and clean presses.

  She approached me again but this time, with her arms bare, I could make out the shape of her wrists. Despite the strength in her upper arms, they were dainty and slender.

  But there was something else.

  Faint purple marks were visible around the outer edges. Noticing me staring, she pulled her arms away and moved down to my feet.

  “So, you appear to be recovering well,” she said. “Considering you had such a serious injury. I'm assuming that's down to you being fit. It said in your notes that you were a Navy SEAL.”

  “I was.”

  “Impressive,” she said.

  At last, a compliment!

  She moved down to my leg, wrapping her slender fingers around my ankle. Her skin was warm and velvety, and for a second, I lay back and closed my eyes, thinking about where else those silken fingers could go.

  "Does this hurt?" she asked, flexing my foot.

  "No."

  "What about now?"

  "Nope."

  "Hmmm..."

  "You almost look disappointed."

  She ignored me and continued to work, prodding me up and down my leg with her eyes narrowed in concentration. My gaze followed her every movement, constantly falling to the curve of her waist. I kept thinking about that glimpse of stomach I saw.

  Turning toward me, she moved her hands up higher, her top straining as she reached up. Despite her baggy uniform, I could see how pert and large her breasts were as they pushed out her shirt. As she moved a little closer, I could just about make out a hint of her nipples pressing against the fabric.

  What I would do to put my mouth around that...

  Inside my pants, I was starting to heat up, a feeling that intensified when she lay her hands around my pelvis.

  "Okay, lift your leg up like this. I'm going to feel right in the socket here and... Did I say something funny?"

  "No, it's just that..."

  "That what?"

  "I'm just enjoying this. That's all."

  Her eyes narrowed even further and her grip on me loosened.

  "You're not supposed to enjoy it," she said.

  "I can't help it. I've got a beautiful woman touching me below the belt. I've had worse days."

  She stiffened and reeled back, dropped her hands away from my body and crossed her arms defensively. It made her breasts pop up even further, so they were almost bulging out the top of her shirt. She caught me looking and lowered her hands again.

  "Mr. Maguire, if you continue to make comments like that, I’ll be happy to turn you over to one of my male colleagues."

  "No. No. I'm sorry. But don't tell me you don't get this every day? I can't be the first patient to notice how attractive you are."

  “Regardless, I didn’t spend seven years in college to get hit on. I’m here to help you regain function and reduce pain. Nothing more.” She returned her hands to my pelvis, her expression leaving no room for argument. "Okay, lift like this," she said.

  I did as I was told, trying my hardest to not annoy her.

  "Does that hurt?"

  "A little in my thigh. Right here in the muscle."

  "Uhuh. Right here," she said, pressing her fingers deep into my thigh.

  "Ow! Yeah. Right there."

  "Hmmm..."

  She bent my leg up again and moved her hands inward toward my groin.

  "Okay, I'm going to have to press deep into here a moment."

  Her fingers edged closer to my cock and I bit down on my lip to suppress the urge to say something, to stifle the impending erection that was beginning to form in my pants.

  "How does that feel?" she asked.

  "Amazing. I mean, yeah, fine. It doesn't hurt."

  Her eyes flicked up and met mine for a split-second. There was that look of annoyance again as the color in her cheeks deepened.

  "And this?" s
he asked.

  Once again, her fingers came perilously close to my cock, but this time, I couldn't stop it from growing hard. It began to swell beside her hand, and I took a long, deep breath and stared up at the ceiling.

  Down boy. Control yourself.

  "That feels good," I breathed, trying to disguise the lust in my voice."

  She stood back up and stepped back from my body leaving a warm tingling sensation where hands used to be.

  "Okay, I think we're done," she said.

  I mustn't have been able to hide the disappointment on my face because she moved over to her desk, flipped open her notebook and said, "Don't worry. I'll get you back in this time next week and we can begin working on some exercises that will begin strengthening your thigh muscles. I'm sure you'll find it a cinch since you exercise most days anyway. These will just be complimentary to add to your gym routine."

  Her voice was flat as she spoke, her eyes focused on her notebook, but her face was growing pinker by the second.

  "I look forward to it," I said.

  " It'll be really beneficial for you. It's important we start work sooner rather than later. You should have really come to see me months ago."

  "I wish I had..."

  She looked up, met my eyes for a second then glanced away.

  "You can go now," she said.

  I sat up but made no attempt to leave just yet. Between my legs, I could still feel my cock twitch.

  "How about we don't wait a whole week," I said.

  " I don't have any free spaces for appointments until-"

  "I mean outside of here."

  She leaned back in her seat, crossed her arms again, and cocked her head to the side.

  "What? Do you mean like a date?"

  "Yeah. A date. How about it? You, me, a couple beers."

  "No thank you."

  She stood up and opened the door, holding it for me expectantly.

  "See you next week Mr. Maguire."

  Her eyes were boring right into mine, urging me to leave.

  "Can I not tempt you?" I asked.

  "Absolutely not. I don't date patients. It’s unprofessional."

  She was growing angry, but it only served to make her more attractive.

  "Do you date anyone?" I asked.

  A frown formed across her brow as she shifted uncomfortably.