Forbidden (Carnal) Desires

Stella

Today was supposed to be different. At least, I hoped it would be. The sun had set half an hour ago, and the streetlights cast a hazy orange glow over the snow-packed sidewalks.

"Stella!"

My heart rate sped up. Nothing triggered my fight or flight like the sound of my father, Jeremiah Evans's voice.

"Yes?" I hid my trepidation behind a neutral expression.

"I trust you can bring all the items back to the room yourself." He slipped on his coat and tossed his bag onto the couch behind him. "I have a dinner reservation I simply can't miss."

"Of-"

He disappeared out the door.

"Course I can," I finished.

After his exit, I collapsed on my bed with a loud sigh. It's never going to be different.

Ever since father had his big break in the

business world he has changed. I should have seen it coming.... we should have seen it coming. It became worse after he divorced my mother because she didn't fit his aesthetic anymore - his words, not mine. Apparently, when you're rich and famous you have to please the public by living your life a certain type of way. That includes who you date or don't date. Unfortunately, my mother did not fit into the category the public would 'approve' of. I put my headphones on and let the soothing voice of Lana Del Rey transport me elsewhere. Anywhere that didn't have a neglectful and ignorant father.

With my eyes closed, I hum along to the sounds filling my ear, completely lost to the world around me as I let myself drift off to sleep. The feel of a hand jerking me awake and ruining my opportunity for a short nap has me scowling. I sit upright and pry my tired open to look at the person responsible and I'm not surprised to see Mary, our maid standing at the edge of my bed with a scowl bigger than mine.

"I have been calling your name, young lady! Get that thing out of your ear for goodness sake." Mary yelled, "Your father left some instructions for you before he left." Mary adds

I groan and roll my eyes, uninterested in whatever commands Daddy dearest left for me. "I'm sure he did." I fall backward onto my bed. Mary had practically raised me. She was the one person who'd always been there for me after my parent's divorce. I hate talking to her this way, I've never even talked to her this way. I was just too tired and frustrated to check my attitude.

I'll apologize later.

"He wants you to give Jamie a tour of the house before dinner tonight...." At the mention of that name, it's as if my body developed the ability to sit and move of its own accord. "Oh, so now you're interested?" I roll my eyes at Mary's suggestive tone

"Why would he want me to give Jamie a tour?

Why is Jamie even here?" I ask all the obvious questions.

"How the hell am I supposed to know? All I know is, your father said something about Jamie staying here for a week because he's got business in town. And you know the tour is so your father can flaunt his mansion off." She adds with an eye roll and I laugh at the accuracy.

"You know, for a woman close to fifty you have the sassy attitude of a teenager." Mary smiles at me.

"Show me a teenager that's as sassy as I am,

I'll wait." She tells me, her strong Irish accent making an appearance "Get dressed, Jamie is waiting for you downstairs." Mary laughs before disappearing out of my room

"WHAT! He's here already?" I yell after her

"Fuck" I mutter to myself.

I walked to my floor-length mirror and the reflection staring back at me was not appealing one bit.

There's no need to dress up. It's just Jamie, my cousin, Cersei's husband.

My cousin's husband whom I'm attracted to.

Jamie and I have only met each other three times, but it was enough for him to leave a permanent mark on my mind. The third time was at his wedding to my cousin, Cersei. The second was at my father's office and the first was at the club where he gave me the best, and most memorable orgasm I've ever experienced in my life.

After we departed I didn't think I'll see him again after that night.

Oh, how wrong I was.

I snapped myself out of the daze I got lost in before putting on my blue sundress and a pair of flat slippers. I rushed to the mirror to fix my hair and apply a fresh coat of my favorite gloss.

I've always loved how it looked on my lips

Hopefully, Jamie does too.

I contemplated fixing my hair up in a bun or letting it cascade down my shoulders since I was wearing a dress. I assume it would look good against my shoulder blades. And-

"Stella."

The deep, rich voice brushed my skin like black velvet and stopped me in my tracks. A shiver chased its wake, born of equal parts pleasure and warning. I recognized that voice.

I'd heard it only three times in my life, but that was enough. Like the man who owned it, it was unforgettable. Wariness flickered in my chest before I doused it. I turned my head, my gaze traveling over the black suit that hugged his frame like a second skin. I gulp when my eyes fall on his face, my mind can't help but drift to our first meeting. How good his hands felt on my body, how those soft lips caressed every inch of my body.

I cleared my throat and hoped to the heavens he didn't catch me gawking like a hungry dog

"Hi, Jamie. Sorry to have kept you waiting." I apologize. I fidget anxiously as I let my eyes drift around my room. Thank the stars I decided to clean it today. "Shall we start the tour?"

He chuckles nervously, "That's not why I'm here, Stella. The last thing I want is to take a tour around your father's mansion. We can tell him you gave me one though, it can be our little secret." He smiles, revealing those set of straight, perfect white teeth that had me hooked the first night at the club.

"Sure," I nodded in agreement. "So, why are you here then?" I prayed my tone didn't leak with the amount of desperation I was feeling.

I couldn't help it so, I let my eyes rake his figure again. My heart slowed a fraction of a beat. Dark hair.

Whiskey eyes.

A face so exquisitely chiseled it could've been sculpted by Michelangelo himself.

He stepped closer till we were mere inches apart "Because I'm stupid. And I can't stop myself from thinking about my inlaw in inappropriate positions." He whispers gently.

A tight sensation wrapped around my lungs-a mixture of fear, embarrassment, and vulnerability-but I needed him to know I wanted him. The truth was, I needed him in a way I couldn't even fathom, but I couldn't let anyone know it was that severe, especially him. Finding the courage somewhere deep inside of me, I rose to my toes and pressed my lips to his ear.

Fuck. My. Life.