Forbidden Read online

  His cock ached as it never had before. Hard and insistent, it demanded to be released from its prison behind his zipper, but Owen refused it. I’m not going to do that. Not going to jerk off while I imagine—But he couldn’t even let himself think it. Leah was innocent; it wasn’t her fault she’d affected him so. It’s me. I’m the wrong one. The sick one. The one who ought to be shot for even thinking of her like that.

  It took what seemed like forever, but at last his stubborn hard-on went down. He splashed cold water on his face and sighed in relief. Nothing. It’s nothing. You can deal with this. Just act normal. Be yourself. Taking another deep breath, he went back out into the mall’s food court to find his family waiting for him. Mumbling an excuse about an upset stomach, he sat miserable and silent through their postpicture meal, trying not to look at, talk to, or think about Leah in any way.

  But Leah wasn’t one to give up easily. Over the next few days, she pushed her way into Owen’s life and personal space, demanding he notice and acknowledge her, unable to accept that things had changed between them.

  Owen felt bad for her, for the pain he was causing her, but he couldn’t help himself. Better to give her the cold shoulder than to hurt her in some other, more permanent, way. So he ignored his little sister, spending as much time out of the house as he could and never inviting her to go with him when he went out.

  Still Leah wouldn’t give up. The last night before he left to go back to college, she crept into his room and slid into bed with him.

  There was nothing unusual about her actions. She had often sneaked into bed with him when they were younger, mostly when there was a thunderstorm, but sometimes just because she wanted to talk. Nothing had ever come if it; they were close, but he’d never had to fight any kind of sexual feelings for her before. But this time when Owen awoke to the soft press of her body against his, things were different—terribly different.

  “Owen.” She was whispering. “Owen, wake up.”

  “Wha…?” he mumbled uncertainly. “Who?”

  “It’s me, silly. You know, the one you’ve been avoiding the past two weeks?”

  “Leah?” He’d been having an erotic dream and was already at half-mast. When he heard her voice in his ear and felt her full breasts brushing his arm, he went completely hard at once.

  “Of course it’s Leah,” she said impatiently. “I know it’s late, but you’re going early tomorrow, and I wanted to talk before you left.”

  “You shouldn’t be here.” Owen sat up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

  “Why not?” Leah sat up too, and he could see she was wearing one of her old lace nightgowns. But now the worn and tattered lace was stretched tight against her firm breasts, and the short hem was riding up her smooth thighs.

  “B-because,” he stuttered, trying to keep his gaze off her body, “you’re too old for this. Too old to be sneaking into bed with me at night. You should stay in your own room, Leah.”

  “But I wanted to talk to you.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for the past two weeks, but you keep ignoring me and avoiding me. Why, Owen? I thought we were best friends.” She let out a little sob—a sound so forlorn and lonely, it broke his heart.

  Owen couldn’t help himself. He had to pull her into his arms and comfort her. Leah’s tears stirred something inside him, some protective instinct so fierce, it was almost primal. He hated to see her cry, because he felt her pain as if it were his own. “C’mon now, little sister,” he murmured into her hair as he held her tight. “Everything is going to be okay.”

  “Is it really?” She shifted against him, and he felt her breasts brush his bare chest. Her little pointed nipples were stiff under the stretchy lace of her nightgown, and her breath was warm and enticing against his neck. Had he thought he was hard before? His cock was painfully rigid now, tenting his plain blue boxers, making him ache for her in a way that was anything but brotherly.

  “Yeah, sure,” he said uneasily. Her face in the moonlight was ethereal, her features so finely sculpted, she might have been an alabaster statue. But statues didn’t cry, and he could see the tracks of tears streaking down her flushed cheeks. Tears he had put there. “Don’t cry, Leah,” he begged. “C’mon, please don’t.”

  “I…I can’t help it.” The words came out in another choked sob. “I thought…thought you didn’t love me anymore. That you didn’t care.”

  “Of course I care.” His heart ached for her, for the sorrow in those big azure eyes. Without thinking about it, he lowered his head and gently pressed his lips to her eyelids, kissing away her tears. They tasted salty and sweet at the same time, and somehow he found himself kissing her mouth next.

  Leah stiffened against him at first and then melted into the kiss, giving herself with an unconditional sweetness that started a fire inside him. A fire that could easily get out of control and burn them both, Owen knew. But he didn’t care—couldn’t care. Though he had never made a single sexual advance on her before, somehow holding Leah in his arms and kissing her seemed incredibly natural, like something he’d been waiting all his life to do.

  Inside he knew it was wrong, but it felt so right. It felt like coming home, like finding a part of himself he hadn’t even known was lost. Leah fit so neatly into his arms, and her mouth was perfect under his. Pliant and warm and eager—she opened her lips to him, inviting his tongue to explore her, an invitation Owen accepted eagerly. God, so good. So sweet… She was in his lap now, pressing against him, her nightgown riding up to her waist and the soft, warm crotch of her virginal white panties rubbing against the straining ridge of his cock as the kiss became even more passionate.

  Oh, Leah. Want you. Want you so much. Need you so much. All he could think about was taking her. Of rolling her under him and pushing the damp cotton panties to one side to fit the head of his cock into her soft, wet pussy. She would be tight—so tight—but he would be gentle, and somehow he knew they would fit together perfectly. Like a key sliding into a lock. The perfect fit…

  “Owen? Leah? Are you two still up?” The sound of his mother’s voice startled him out of the dreamlike state of lust, and Owen quickly shoved his sister off his lap.

  Oh my God, what’s wrong with me? What did I almost do?

  Beside him, Leah was panting, her cheeks flushed and her blonde hair tousled. She looked up at him uncertainly, obviously coming down from the same high he’d been on. Looking at her, Owen had a realization. She would have let me. Would have pulled down her panties and spread her legs with no questions asked. I could be inside her right now, filling her, taking her virginity, and she would have given it without question. Because she loves me. Because she trusts me.

  He never felt more unworthy of that love and trust. He was a monster. A beast. A pervert. What else could you call a guy who made out with his own little sister? Who tried to steal her innocence in the middle of the night?

  “Leah?” Their mother’s voice was closer.

  “I’m fine, Mom.” Leah’s voice didn’t waver at all. In fact, she sounded perfectly normal. “I was just saying good-bye to Owen now since he’s going so early in the morning.”

  “All right, then, but be sure you let him get some sleep.” Their mother’s voice faded. Obviously she was headed back down the hallway toward her own room. “He’s got a long drive ahead of him tomorrow.”

  “Okay, Mom,” Leah called back, sounding slightly bored. There was a long, breathless silence, and then Owen heard the door to his parents’ room click. Immediately Leah turned to him. “What was that?” she asked in a low voice.

  “That was why you shouldn’t be in here.” Leah started to lean in to him again, but Owen roughly pushed her away. “Go on, get out of my room. Go away.”

  “But…but, Owen.” She looked at him in hurt bewilderment. “I thought—”

  “Never mind what you thought,” he snapped. “Just get out.”

  “I…I…” Her eyes were filling up again, but this time he didn’t let h