Forbidden

  “Good.” She sniffled. “Now that’s settled, I’m beat. Let’s go to bed.”

  Owen raised an eyebrow at her. “Don’t you have to finish reading your book of angel porn?”

  She laughed through her tears and slapped at his arm. “Stop it! I told you I was only reading it as an assignment for Professor Dobrev. I can’t help it if it’s smutty.”

  Owen rolled his eyes. “Okay, if you say so.”

  “You.” She slapped his arm again and got off the couch. “C’mon. Aren’t you tired? It’s been a long day.”

  And it’s going to be an even longer night. But even the thought of lying beside her—loving and wanting her and still unable to touch her—couldn’t dampen his mood. “Yeah,” he said, smiling and manufacturing a yawn. “Let’s go to bed.”

  Chapter Eight

  Leah couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy. So content. She’d suspected it all along, but now, at last, she knew for certain what had driven the wedge between her and Owen. Finally they could heal the rift between them.

  Leaving on the white T-shirt, she turned her back to Owen and unhooked the black bra. After pulling it out of the armhole of her shirt, she left it on a chair by her side of the bed and then pushed down the tight jean shorts as well. Keeping on her pink panties, she climbed into bed and settled down with a sigh.

  “Hurry up and turn off the light,” she murmured drowsily.

  “In a minute.” Owen’s voice sounded strained.

  She looked to her left and saw that he had his shirt off but was hesitating, fiddling nervously with the button of his jeans.

  “Just take them off,” she said, yawning. “I don’t care if you sleep in boxers or briefs, as long as we get to sleep sometime tonight.”

  Shrugging, he pushed the tight denim down. Now that she was watching him, Leah couldn’t help admiring his body. His bare shoulders were so broad, and the tight muscles of his abdomen bunched and flexed as he kicked off the jeans. He had on black silk boxers, which emphasized his powerful legs. God, if he weren’t my brother… But he is my brother, and I’m still thinking this. Still wanting him. Feeling like we belong together. Is that wrong?

  Owen climbed into bed beside her and turned off the bedside lamp. But though Leah had been feeling emotionally exhausted and ready to drop a minute ago, the sight of him undressing seemed to have woken her up. She thought of how little it was that had kept them apart all these years. One kiss! One kiss had cost her ten years of love and affection from her wonderful older brother. One measly, single, solitary, stupid kiss. As she thought of it, she couldn’t help remembering the golden dream she’d had—of the angel with her brother’s face who had begged her to bring them together. Not to mention the feeling of rightness she had when she thought of being with Owen…that way.

  “Owen?” she said into the darkness.

  “Hmm?” He was lying on his back, and as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could barely make out his profile in the dim light coming through the heavy drapes.

  Leah took a deep breath. Should she really do this? Yes, she decided as she remembered the vision, she should. “I’ve been thinking,” she said before she could change her mind.

  “Yeah?” He turned toward her, his eyes gleaming softly.

  “I’ve been thinking that…that since a kiss was all that stood between us all these years…well, I’ve been thinking that maybe you should kiss me again,” Leah said quickly, trying to get all the words out before she lost her nerve. “Just once, you know? To prove to yourself it’s no big deal.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Owen sounded hesitant.

  “Of course it’s a good idea. You’ve agonized over that one incident until it seems insurmountable. If we kiss—just once—you’ll see what a small thing it really is, and maybe you can let go of some of that guilt you’ve been carrying around for so long.”

  “Leah, I don’t think—”

  “Well, I do.” Levering herself up on one elbow, she leaned over him and looked down into his eyes. “And if you won’t kiss me, then I’ll kiss you.”

  Owen started to protest again, and Leah pounced.

  She’d meant for the kiss to be a quick peck—just once on the lips, and then she would say, See? Nothing to it. It seemed like a good way to test the theory that her dream had something important to tell her. And if nothing came of it, she and Owen could laugh about the whole thing and go to sleep. But somehow that wasn’t what happened.

  Owen’s mouth was firm against hers at first, as though he intended to reject the kiss at all costs. But Leah was determined. She kissed him softly and then sucked gently at his lower lip. Then she nibbled lightly and teasingly, daring him to return the favor. Owen made a small noise of surprise and pleasure, his lips parting with the sound. Before he could close them again, Leah was darting her tongue between them, lapping quickly at the roof of his mouth, begging for more.

  Owen groaned, the sound of a man who was lost and knew it. Then he wrapped his arms around her and rolled her under him, pinning her to the bed in one swift motion.

  Leah gasped in surprise. The entire length of his hot, hard body was pressed against hers from breast to thigh. She could even feel the ridge of his cock rubbing against her inner leg, right where her thigh met her body. Owen deepened the kiss, his tongue invading her mouth as though he had every right, learning her, owning her in a way she had never been owned before. Leah could feel her nipples getting stiff and achy, and between her legs, she was wetter than she could ever remember. If only he would shift over just a little, that rigid length she felt rubbing her thigh would be in just the right place, and if she moved her panties to the side just a little bit…

  The realization struck like a bolt of lightning. God, what were they doing? Owen wasn’t her lover or some guy she’d picked up for a one-night stand. And her little experiment was getting way out of hand.

  “Owen,” she gasped, turning her head to the side to break the kiss. “Owen, wait. I don’t know if we should be doing this. I—”

  He rolled off her at once and sat up with his head in his hands. “You’re right, I know. I’m sorry, Leah.” His voice was low and choked. “I swore to myself I’d never touch you like that again, and here I go and do exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid for the past ten years.”

  His shame and self-recrimination bit deep. This was Owen, she reminded herself, and she loved him with all her heart. She didn’t want to see him hurt or beating himself up—especially since she’d caused the problem in the first place. She needed to find a way to help him—to heal him. To…

  “Show him the way.”

  The words seemed to appear in her head out of nowhere, and suddenly she remembered the sad look on the face of the man in her dream. The face that had been Owen’s and yet not Owen’s at the same time.

  Maybe she hadn’t been on the wrong track with the kiss after all. Maybe…maybe Owen needed to do this, needed to touch her in order to be healed of his guilt. But how could she make him see that? And would he even want to touch her that way? What would he think if he knew what she was contemplating? Would he hate her the way he seemed to hate himself? Leah couldn’t bear the thought. Couldn’t stand the idea of losing him again so soon.

  I’ll have to go slowly. Have to convince him that we’re doing the right thing. Because we are doing the right thing when we touch. I can feel it—feel how right it is for me to be in his arms. We belong together. If only I can show him that without making him hate me or himself any more.

  Leah nodded decisively to herself. Now she understood what Owen needed, what had to happen between them to make things right. She was going to have to take things very slowly and carefully, and it was going to be difficult, but it had to be done.

  He started to slide out of bed, but she caught his arm. “Hey, where are you going?”

  “To the couch. It’s better that way.”

  “No, it’s not,” Leah insisted. “Look, so what if things got
a little out of hand? It’s no big deal. I just caught you by surprise. That’s all.”

  “It was wrong,” Owen said.

  “You were surprised, caught off guard,” she said. “And I think the way you’re acting proves you still have a lot of guilt to work through.”

  He gave a bitter laugh. “And how am I supposed to work through it? By kissing you some more?”

  “No,” Leah said, though the idea of kissing him again made her stomach flutter strangely. “By talking about it. Here.” She tugged at his arm. “Come back for a minute. Let’s talk.”

  He sighed but reluctantly allowed himself to settle beside her in bed once more. They were both sitting up now, propped against the broad wooden headboard in the dark.

  “Good,” Leah said, patting his knee comfortingly. “Now, let’s get some of this out.”

  “What should I say?” he asked dully. “That I feel guilty for kissing you? That I feel guilty for wanting to kiss you?”

  “Maybe,” she said softly. “But…but maybe I wanted to kiss you too.”

  “You can’t talk like that, Leah. We shouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

  “Yes, we should,” she said firmly. “And anyway, from what you were saying earlier, it wasn’t just the kissing that made you feel guilty.”

  “What are you talking about?” He sounded wary.

  “You said…” Leah took a deep breath. “When we were talking about that kiss we shared so long ago, you said something about what you wanted to do to me. That it made you feel like a monster. What was that?”

  “What was what?”

  “What did you want to do to me? Besides kiss me, I mean?” Leah tried to make her voice brisk and impersonal, but the question still came out sounding a little breathy.

  Owen shook his head. “I can’t tell you that. Can’t…can’t say that out loud.”

  “But you need to get it out.” Leah turned to him, rubbing his thigh soothingly. “Maybe if you tell me, and I let you know that I don’t hate you for it, you’ll stop hating yourself. And then we can get back to having a normal relationship.”

  “A normal relationship?” He laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “What’s normal about a brother wanting to…to touch his sister?” he finished in a choked voice.

  “What’s normal about a sister wanting her brother to touch her?” she returned in a low voice. Beside her, she felt Owen stiffen.

  “What?”

  Leah’s heart was pounding. Please don’t let him hate me! “I…I just meant that I don’t find the idea of your touching me offensive. So tell me,” she continued in a low voice. “Where did you want to touch me?”

  He shook his head again. “I…I can’t. It isn’t right.”

  “Yes, it is, Owen. It’s important that you know I don’t hate you, no matter what desires you might have—I mean, might once have had for me,” she added quickly and felt her stomach flutter again. “I tell you what,” she said in a sudden burst of inspiration. “If you can’t tell me, why don’t you show me?”

  “Show you?” He sounded incredulous, but Leah wasn’t about to give up now.

  “Yes,” she said firmly. Turning to face him, she then took his hand and brought it up to cup her cheek. “Start here,” she said softly. “And show me, Owen. Show me exactly where you wanted to touch me.”

  “I don’t know, Leah…”

  “Please,” she urged. “We need to get this out in the open, or we’ll never get over it. Please, Owen.”

  He gave a deep, defeated sigh. “Why is it so hard for me to say no to you, even when I know I should?”

  “Because I’m your adorable little sister, and you love me.” She was trying for a bright, teasing tone, but her words seemed to make his mood even darker.

  “Which is exactly the reason I shouldn’t want to do this.”

  “It’s all right.” She nuzzled her cheek into his palm. “Everything is going to be all right, Owen. Just show me.” Then she held her breath.

  “Fine,” he said at last, after a long moment of silence. “I’ll show you.” The large, warm palm cupping her cheek traveled slowly down her throat and rested lightly between her breasts. “Here,” he said.

  Leah was sure her heart was beating so hard, he must have been able to feel it, but she knew he wasn’t being completely honest with her. “Just there?” she asked, trying to make her voice stern.

  “Well…” He sighed. “You’re determined to do this, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Leah said decisively. “And I’m not going to stop until you tell me the whole truth.”

  “All right, then,” he said, sounding defeated again. His other hand joined the first, and he moved them slowly apart until he was cupping the undercurves of her breasts lightly through the T-shirt she wore. “Here too. Does that make you happy?”

  “Be specific,” Leah commanded, her heart thumping a million miles a minute now.

  He made a low, frustrated growl at the back of his throat, and she could feel his irritation rising. “Here,” he said, pinching both her nipples at once, holding them firmly between his thumbs and forefingers and sending jolts of pleasure-pain throughout her entire body. “Here is where I wanted to touch you. How do you feel about that?”

  Leah moaned at the intimate touch, and he started to withdraw his hands. But she stopped him with a light touch to his wrist. “No,” she said softly. “Don’t…don’t stop, Owen. This…this is good. We’re finally getting somewhere. Now…” She took a deep breath, gathering her courage for the next part. “Show me what you wanted to do to me here. How you wanted to touch me.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked roughly, but Leah was fairly sure he knew what she wanted.

  She sighed, her breasts jiggling slightly with the motion and sending another bolt of pleasure through her because he was still pinching her nipples. “You know what I mean, Owen. You’re just afraid of your desires. Afraid of what you wanted from me. But I promise you, it’s okay. Now show me how.”

  “How I wanted to touch you,” he echoed. “What I wanted to do.”

  “Exactly. I mean, I’m sure you didn’t want my shirt to be in the way, did you?” Leah couldn’t believe she was pushing it this far, but somehow she knew she needed to push it even farther. That she needed to make Owen acknowledge what was between them.

  “No.” Owen’s voice was low and thick. “I…I wanted you naked.”

  “Like this.” Leah started to tug up the hem of the T-shirt, and he hastily let go of her nipples to allow it. She’d meant to just pull it up over her breasts, but it wanted to flop down again, and besides, Owen had said “naked.” Of course I’ll keep my panties on—for now, anyway. But we need to keep going, need to keep touching if Owen is ever going to heal. She didn’t let herself think about how far she might have to eventually go in order to heal him or to satisfy the inner urgings of the dream, which seemed to hang in her head like a golden mist. Instead she pulled the shirt over her head and threw it off to one side. “There,” she said, taking a deep breath.

  In the dim half-light, she could see him hesitating. Now that he’d stopped touching her, he seemed to find it hard to start again.

  “It’s all right,” she said encouragingly. “Look, if I remember right, we were sitting like this.” Moving slowly, so as not to startle him, she climbed into his lap and straddled him. “Now touch me, Owen,” she murmured. “Touch me exactly the way you wanted to.”

  He shifted under her, and she bit her lip when she felt the hard ridge of his cock press briefly against her inner thigh. “You’re my little sister, Leah. Are you sure you want to let me suck your nipples?”

  “Is…?” Her voice caught in her throat for a moment. “Is that what you wanted to do?”

  “What I still want to do.” His voice was a low growl, and she sensed he was barely holding himself in check, that she was pushing him across some boundary he had promised himself never to cross. Again she felt the dream inside her, urging her on. Good
, he needs to cross it. We both need to.

  “Then do it,” she said firmly, and when he still didn’t move, she said, “Here. I’ll get you started.” After rising up on her knees, she cupped her left breast in one hand and guided the tight, aching nipple to his lips. “Just kiss it at first if you want to,” she said. “I’m a little sore where you pinched me. Kiss it better, Owen. Think of it like that.”

  For a long moment he hesitated, and she could feel his breath hot against the sensitive tip of her breast. Then, “Just a kiss,” he said thickly at last. “Just once, I swear.”

  “If you want to,” Leah murmured, threading her fingers through his thick hair and urging him forward. “Kiss me. Or suck me and take my whole nipple in your mouth. I won’t stop loving you either way.”

  “Leah.” Her name was a groan, and then he was kissing her, lightly at first, and then sucking her aching nipple into his hot, wet mouth and drawing on it until she cried out and pulled him closer.

  Owen couldn’t seem to get enough of her breasts. He kissed and sucked and lapped them, taking as much of her left breast and nipple as he could into his mouth at once and then moving to her right one to do the same. Leah did nothing to discourage him. In fact, she tugged at his hair and pulled him closer, giving herself completely even as the shocks of pleasure ran through her nipples and down to the heated spot between her legs.

  It was her breasts that had troubled him in the first place, she told herself. The sight of them had tempted him, attracted him, and he’d been hating himself for feeling that attraction ever since. This is what you need, Owen—what we both need. What we’ve been needing for years. And you can have as much as you want. Suck them all night if it makes you feel better. If it brings us closer together.

  It seemed to go on forever, but at last he seemed to get his fill and sat back, panting. Leah caressed his hair soothingly and lowered herself back down onto his lap. His cock was a hot, throbbing ridge between them, and when she sat back, it pressed firmly against the crotch of her panties. Leah gasped, surprised, and started to sit up.