My Forbidden Lover's Secret Baby

On Fire

It was clear from the look in Chelsea’s eyes that she wanted him. At first, Heath thought maybe it was because she was drunk, but he’d seen her walk on those high heels and knew she couldn’t be too intoxicated. She’d driven over there, after all, hadn’t she?

No, it wasn’t the booze. It was something else. She was generally interested in him. He tried to think back to when she was younger. Had she ever looked at him like that before? He couldn’t really remember, but he didn’t think so.

When he’d first met her, she hadn’t looked like a fifteen year old, but she hadn’t looked like this, that was for damn sure. She’d always been tall and well-built. The first day he’d gone home with Mike from college, she’d been out by the pool with some friends. He’d taken a look at her, wearing a yellow two piece that didn’t hide much, and Mike had punched him in the arm—hard. “That’s my baby sister,” he’d said. “Stay away from her.”

Mike had understood immediately what he’d meant and hadn’t taken another look at Chelsea since. Not a real look, anyway. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t sure if she’d always stared at him with those light eyes narrowed slightly, biting into that plump bottom lip the way he wished his teeth were sunk into it now. Maybe he hadn’t been looking before because he knew Mike would kill him.

But Mike wasn’t here. And she was.

Still, it wouldn’t be right. He couldn’t just sleep with Mike’s sister and then never call her, the way he did a lot of girls. Or go out with her a few times and then disappear. He wasn’t interested in a relationship with anyone, no matter how hot she was. No matter how smart and beautiful she was—as Chelsea clearly was. No, he didn’t want a relationship. But he did want to see if those long legs would wrap all the way around his waist.

She leaned in, placing her elbows on the table as she ran a hand through her sandy hair, knocking some of it free from her clip, which then came out onto the table, the rest of her hair cascading over her shoulders. A small giggle escaped her lips, but then that serious smolder was back on her face, her eyes locked on his face. The scent of her floral perfume was a soft caress, not an overwhelming flood of flowers. She ran her fingertips along the wood grain of the table, as if to show him just how gentle her touch could be. He had a feeling it could be much more aggressive as well, if she wanted it to be.

Exactly how she came to be straddling him, Heath wasn’t sure, but in the next instant, she’d pushed her chair back from the table and flew across the small space between them, her bare feet soundless on the wooden dining room floor.

The question didn’t grace her lips; it was in her eyes. Did he want to kiss her? Yes, of course. More than anything. Did he dare to kiss her? He knew he shouldn’t. But when Chelsea leaned in, those luscious lips only a fraction of an inch form his own, how in the world was he supposed to say no?

***

It wasn’t like Chelsea to throw herself at a guy. But this wasn’t just any guy—this was Heath, a guy she’d lusted after for so long, she couldn’t even remember the first time she’d fallen asleep thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, or the first time she’d dreamt what it would be like to wrap her legs around him the way she was now.

When she settled onto his lap, he didn’t balk. He didn’t push her off or tell her she was crazy. Instead, he settled his large hands on her narrow waist, his eyes wide with surprise, but not disdain. She couldn’t help but lean in, her lips saying what her words could not. She saw his moment of hesitation as he likely thought about what her brother Mike would do if he found out. But then that look faded, and suddenly Heath’s warm mouth was on hers.

The first kiss was just as sweet and passionate as she’d expected it to be. He took her breath away in a manner she never would’ve expected. At first, he only pressed his soft lips against hers, but then, as Chelsea let out a soft moan and parted her lips, Heath plunged inside, his tongue darting around in her mouth, circling around hers. Then, there was simply no going back.

She grabbed hold of the back of the chair, pulling herself tighter against him, feeling him spring to life between her legs as he hardened against her. The kiss continued to grow deeper, hotter, as his hands slid up her sides, settling on her rib cage beneath her shimmery silver top, his thumbs gliding beneath her breasts. Her n*****s hardened instantly in anticipation of his touch as she rocked up and down, rubbing her damp panties against his jeans. She had to end the kiss in order to come up for air, but she didn’t want to pull away from him. Gasping for oxygen, she filled her lungs, and then went in for more.

Heath didn’t meet her mouth, though. Instead, he settled against her neck, his tongue stroking up and down against her salty skin as his hands pushed her top even higher. Unable to control herself, Chelsea let go of the chair for a moment and reached around to unfasten her top. It fell in an instant, revealing her perfectly perky breasts.

It was Heath’s turn to gasp. He pulled back from her neck and stared at her hard pink peaks for a moment before his thumb traced her rippled flesh. His touch sent tingles through her body. Chelsea rubbed against him harder, leaning in as her teeth nipped his ear. As if he could feel her willing him to take her inside of his mouth, Heath complied with her wish and placed his hand on her back, pulling her closer and taking her n****e into his mouth.

At first, he was gentle, running his tongue along her tit, flicking it softly. Then, he began to suck, one hand working her other n****e while he held the breast inside of his mouth into place. The moan that escaped her lips was loud. He’d set her afire, and as good as it felt to have her breast in his mouth, she wanted more. She wanted all of him. She wanted him now.

Heath switched to her other breast, and she calmed herself long enough to let him run his tongue along that n****e as well, but before long, she found herself reaching for the button of his jeans, pulling down his zipper, setting him free.

Her mind fuzzy from alcohol, though she still knew she wasn’t drunk, she wasn’t thinking clearly. She’d taken her pill that morning—hadn’t she? She was usually good about taking it. With Heath, she wasn’t worried about diseases. He was a good guy. She knew she was clean. There was nothing preventing them from pressing forward, even though she knew a condom would’ve been a better idea. But the embers she’d been carrying inside of her for so long were blazing now. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone in her life. Without another thought, Chelsea lifted herself up, pulling her soaked panties aside, and came back down with Heath pressed deeply inside of her. Electricity and euphoria arched within her as she took him all the way in, arching her back and opening her mouth for a silent scream of ecstasy. He was huge, he was hard, and he was hers.