Nothing Forbidden
Nothing Forbidden
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Nothing Forbidden © 2014 by Kenny Wright
Edited by Lucy V. Morgan
Cover design by Kenny Wright
Cover image © conrado/bigstockphoto.com
First digital edition electronically published by KW Publishing,
November 2014
Smashwords edition electronically published by Smashwords, November 2014
First print edition published by KW Publishing, November 2014
Printed by CreateSpace, Charleston SC
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without explicit written permission of the copyright holder.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events, or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Contents
Cover
Copyright Information
Nothing Forbidden
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Coda
Acknowledgements
About the author
Other works from Kenny Wright
Prologue
“Another cocktail?” the bartender asked Katie. He was attractive in a hard, macho way—dark hair formed into a faux hawk, an earring, a deep tan. The kind of guy she shouldn’t go for, but did.
“Um, I shouldn’t...”
The bartender had a broad nose that looked like it had been broken a time or two. It suited him. “You never do things that you shouldn’t?”
The question sent a shiver through her. “Most of the time, yes,” she said. “But I’ll take another punch.”
“Coming right up.”
Her stomach fluttered at his smile.
Katie had been like this more and more since her husband had filled her head with his fantasy. He wanted her to have sex with other men? Every time she thought about it, it left her confused all over again. They’d been together forever, and she wanted to support him, whatever his fantasy was. But hearing him admit to these things was like waking up next to a stranger. Where had it come from? Why had he never said something like that before?
Coming to The James after their meetings today felt right. The trendy speakeasy was on the same block as their hotel, was quiet enough to have a pop-up meeting, as her colleagues called it, and the drinks were great. That was one of the problems—they were so great, she’d had too many.
Katie watched the bartender mix her drink, his back to her. He filled out his black shirt well, broad shoulders and thick arms hinting at a toned body beneath. Not too muscular—she always liked soccer player bodies over the weightlifting type, and this guy fit the bill.
She shook her head. Fit the bill? “This is your fault, Max,” she muttered as the bartender returned with a glass blossoming with fruit.
“What’s that?” he said.
“Nothing. Just thinking that I really shouldn’t have ordered another.”
“Big day tomorrow? Or was today your big presentation?” he said.
“How do you know that’s why I’m here?”
“Well, you’re not here to meet anyone. You came in with coworkers. And you talked mostly business. You’re still in your suit...”
Katie took mental inventory of herself. It was true; she was still in her dark skirt suit, her auburn hair still pinned back and professional. She wasn’t one to rely on her femininity to win contracts and make successful presentations, but as this guy checked her out, she became self-conscious of how snug the black pencil skirt was, or how the black blouse hinted at her pale, freckled cleavage.
The bartender’s eyes drifted there now and she wished she’d buttoned the blouse up to her neck. “Nice suit, by the way.”
“Thanks.” Katie blushed. “My presentation was today. Tomorrow, we talk details.”
“The fun stuff.” He pointed at the punch. “You definitely need that. Consider it on me.”
He had a confidence that reminded Katie of her husband when they’d first met—a bartender in his twenties, just like this young man. “Trying to get me drunk to take advantage of me?” she asked.
He leaned on the bar across from her. “Do you want to be taken advantage of?”
Katie met his eyes, dark and unwavering, and felt part of herself melt. She plucked a pineapple wedge from the glass of punch and bit into the sweet fruit. She could have this guy as easily as she could that pineapple. All she had to reach out and take.
Not that she had any intention of going there. Max’s fantasy was crazy, and it was messing with her head. Still, it was fun to flirt.
“You’re pretty successful with women, I bet,” she said.
The guy pulled back, giving her space, but didn’t seem fazed or rejected. So much confidence in youth. “I do alright.”
“You have a girlfriend?”
“A few.”
Katie laughed. “Of course you do. And what would they think if they saw you hitting on me?”
“They’re not here. Why does it matter?”
Of course he’d say that, too, she thought. “It matters.” She held up her ring. “One day, it’ll matter.”
“And yet here you are, talking to me. Having a drink...flirting with me.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“But that makes it even more fun, doesn’t it? Look around you. You don’t know anyone, and they don’t know you. You can be anyone you want to be.”
“What makes you think I’m unhappy being who I am right now?”
“Which is?”
A happily married woman and a mom, she thought. It felt like the right thing to think, and probably the right thing to say. Instead, she said, “Someone who’s about to settle my tab, go back to my room next door, and have a fitful night’s rest.”
The guy nodded. “Would it make a difference if I told you that today was my birthday, and you’d be the perfect present?”
They both laughed at the cheese in the line.
“You’d do better off asking me for a map because you got lost in my eyes,” she said.
“Green eyes always do get me all turned around,” he said with a grin.
God, why did he have to be so charming?
She batted her lashes. “Sorry about that, but I’m still going to call it a night.” As she looked up at him, she was glad she had the bar between them. The barrier put her at ease, despite those dark, butterfly-inducing eyes.
“But what about that drink? You’re not going to let it go to waste, are you?”
“Of course not,” she said. Picking up the drink, she downed it all in one mighty gulp, then stood. “Thanks for the punch.” She brushed her hair over her ears, then immediately regretted it. It was a childish gesture she’d tried to teach herself to stop doing, but would sneak in when she was drunk...or talking to guys like this one.
“Thanks for the company.”
“Goodnight,” she said. Turning, she was surprised to see she was one of the only people in the place. What time was it?
****
Outside felt better—an October evening in the city. Katie wasn’t a huge fan of the bustle of New York, but she couldn’t deny the electricity that permeated it. The entrance to The James was tucked away in an alley, as a spea
keasy should be. Even here, off the main drag, she felt the energy fizz and pop around her.
Or maybe that buzz had more to do with the drinks than the city. She felt ten years younger, untethered from the trappings of adulthood. For the briefest of moments, all the things that defined her fell away: her job, her husband, her daughter. She was free.
But free to what? Certainly not free to actually pursue a man like that bartender. For the first time since Max had mentioned his desire for her to be with other men, Katie realized that she could make it happen. Not that she would, but she could.
Her adrenaline spiked—guilt coming right along with it. She shouldn’t even be entertaining these thoughts, no matter what her husband thought that he wanted. It was wrong. It wasn’t normal. She’d pledged to spend the rest of her life with Max, and part of that meant being only with him...
Yet even as she reminded herself of what was proper, she couldn’t stop thinking about the bartender—about his faux hawk, the thick cords of his forearms, and the promise of more beneath his shirt. He was strange. New. Exciting. She didn’t do his laundry. She hadn’t had to figure out how to change diapers with him.
And when he’d looked at her, he saw a sexy woman in a business suit, not Mrs. Max Callahan, daughter of a prominent Connecticut family. He saw a woman he wanted to dominate.
“This is all your fault, Max,” she said again. She reached the doors to her hotel.
“Evening,” the doorman said.
Katie felt his eyes linger on her ass as she walked through the lobby.
She looked at the world through the lens of an accountant—it had always been that way, even before she attained her CPA license. She saw this fantasy in terms of debt and payment. Had she gone back to her room with the bartender, or the doorman, or the cute concierge who’d initially suggested The James, she’d be accruing debt.
The question was: what was Max expecting as payment? He couldn’t just want an account of it. That didn’t balance for her. Did he want to sleep with another woman? That was the obvious answer, although he’d already denied it. Maybe something had happened already and this was some form of repayment.
Her body went cold. Her scalp lit up, fiery with jealousy. She knew it was impossible, but her head went there anyway, the night’s booze ushering it along. Max was good-looking. She’d been attracted to him from the time she’d first met him at sixteen, but back then, all she saw was his smile and a guy who wanted to hook up with her. And back then, as now, she thought of herself as above that.
Katie fought to get her head on straight. She was all over the place. She focused on getting to her room first. The elevator buttons seemed fuzzier than they should have been, and she had trouble remembering which floor she was on.
It was only when she finally got up to her room that she realized that her purse was missing.
Panic set in, wild and uncaged. Even with the light buzz, her analytical brain started working through the problem. Last place she used it: The James. Closing her tab. Which meant one more meeting with that bartender. Her chest tightened. Her body buzzed, all the way out to her fingertips.
Once upon a time, she’d been dared to steal a pair of sunglasses from the mall. She could have afforded them, of course. That wasn’t the point. The point was to do something bad. Something completely against her nature.
Back then, walking into the department store, she’d been jittery with excitement. She felt exactly the same way returning to The James. Suddenly, the alley leading toward it felt more dangerous. Reaching for the doorbell felt so much more clandestine.
When the bartender himself opened the door before she could ring it, she practically fell backwards. He caught her, pulling her against him. He felt like stone beneath his shirt—warm, breathing stone.
“Sorry about that. Didn’t see you there,” he said. Then he released her.
“I...I forgot my purse,” Katie sputtered.
He held up what appeared to be her purse. “And I’ve got it. Was bringing it over to your hotel, actually.”
She knew he probably meant the front desk, but thoughts of this guy knocking on her door as she got ready for bed sent a jolt through her.
“Thanks. Such a gentleman.”
The guy grinned and Katie’s knees weakened. “How about a reward for my good deed?”
“But I ended up coming back for it.”
“You still don’t have it,” he pointed out. When she reached to take it from him, he pulled it back and away.
“Really?” She reached again, but he held it higher. Losing her balance, she caught herself on his hard chest. She could feel the heat rise off his body through his shirt, could smell the cologne he wore, and the musk of sweat and masculinity beneath that.
Turning to look up at him, she realized that he was right there, his lips just inches away.
The moment slowed down, each action experienced in hyper reality. He wrapped an arm around her waist. He pulled her against him, trapping her hand between them. She could feel his excitement against her hip. Could feel his heart thud beneath her fingertips.
There was plenty of time to escape. To push him away. To turn her head. To say no.
Instead, Katie let the inevitable happen. The hand on her waist tightened, pulling her even closer. His other hand found the back of her neck, pulling her head up to his—her lips up to his.
The kiss was fiery. Illicit. So wrong, yet so incredibly good. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and she did nothing to stop him. She let him. She welcomed him with her own tongue.
It was only when she felt his hand drift across her ass that she came to her senses. Pulling back, she said, “We can’t.”
“Sure we can.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“Tell me you don’t want it.”
She tried to form the words, but couldn’t. She was too dazed, too caught up in the moment. He stepped into her again, taking hold of her and spinning her around until she was up against the brick wall of the alley. He pinned her there, arms on either side of her, mouth once again descending. She let him kiss her again. Let him kiss along her jaw and into the crook of her neck.
She could feel his breath against her ear as he leaned in to whisper. “Tell me you don’t want to fuck me, and I’ll stop.”
Her pussy tingled.
When his lips found hers again, she kissed him like she didn’t want him to stop. Maybe, for a split second, she didn’t. She kissed him back, hard, her fingers lacing through his hair, tussling the product-perfect set of it. She pulled him close, let herself be smothered in his strangeness. His newness.
Then she pushed him away.
She was out of breath, but managed to find her voice. “I’m not going to fuck you.”
“But you want to.”
Katie smiled, feeling control return with her senses. “Maybe. But I’m not going to.”
The guy nodded, hands up. “Fair enough.”
Katie plucked her purse from his hand. “Have a good night, birthday boy. You’re going to have to settle on a kiss as your present.”
He smiled. “Your loss…”
Your loss… His words followed her back to her hotel room, mixed in with her own giddy thoughts. Did that really just happen? Did she just kiss another man—some stranger whose name she didn’t even know? Again, she thought about her one shoplifting experience, and the rush of adrenaline that she’d felt walking out of there with the sunglasses in her purse. She could barely breathe then, just as she could barely breathe now.
Back in her hotel room, she slipped naked beneath the rich Egyptian cotton bed sheets, stared out at the New York skyline, and found her pussy waiting for her touch.
Chapter 1
One year later...
Katie buried her face in the pillow, her moans more growls than cries. She raised her ass higher, changing the angle of the cock pounding her from behind. So good. So full...
She turned her head enough to breathe, her red hair spilling across her fac
e, sticky with sweat.
“Tell me more, Katie. Tell me more,” her husband said behind her.
“I loved how he kissed me. How he pushed me up against the wall and took me.”
Her mind was back in New York a year ago, when the lifestyle they now led was just a fantasy. Even though it had been just a kiss, it had been a defining moment for her. It was only then that she realized that this fantasy was as much hers as it was Max’s—it just took her the next few months to accept.
On her knees, ass high, head low, she reached between her legs, fingers following the narrow strip of trimmed curls to her clit. She could feel Max’s cock slide in and out of her—feel the perfect fit of him, familiar yet ever sexy. She worked her clit in time with his thrusts, flicking the swollen button as she raced to orgasm.
“Did you feel his cock when he kissed you?” Max demanded.
“Yes!” She had. And he was big and hard. “He felt so good.”
“And you were tempted to take him back up to your room?”
“Yes, baby. I was so tempted. I wanted him to tear my clothes off and take me.” Katie moaned as Max’s thrusts sped up. She knew exactly how to press his buttons, and after a year in their more open lifestyle, she pressed them without hesitation. “If he had brought my purse to my hotel room...if he’d kissed me in the privacy of my own room...I don’t think I could have stopped him...”
Max grunted, his hips slapping wetly with each penetration. Katie shut her eyes, and suddenly it was the bartender behind her—the bartender lodged inside her. She imagined how hot he must be naked: a muscled upper body, six pack, a thick cock that he knew how to use...
“Fuck me, baby! Har—der!”
To the young bartender, she’d be just another notch on his bedpost. She’d be one of a long string of conquests. The idea should have disgusted her—it did...mostly. The feminist in her gnashed and roared. The successful accountant in her objected to the imbalanced books.