A Taboo Romance With A Billionaire Part 1 of 2: A Forbidden Romance Read online

  "I can see yours."

  Like the well-trained nurse that I am, I place my hand on his forehead as if to check for fever. "Huhuh, please continue, sir."

  "I can see a spanking coming your way with fast increasing speed."

  Ignoring the heat that explodes in my belly and the excited tingling between my legs, I turn my head to an imaginary doctor next to me. "Doctor, I believe the fall on his head may have caused more damage than we thought. In fact, the patient seems to be outright suffering from delusions."

  Instead of playing along, Mac studies me intensely, with those magnificent eyes of his, without blinking. Blood rushing to my neck and face, I pretend the spreading blush is nothing special as I lock eyes with my favorite hunk.

  "Amelia?" Mac finally says.

  "Yes, Mac?" I say, a warmth in my voice that I’ve already learned he can't read for what it means.

  "I'm proud of you," Mac says. The warmth in his voice enough to make me glow. "Seeing you on that stage, receiving your degree, was one of the finest moments of my life. Sorry I had to ruin it be falling on my ass."

  "That's alright, Mac," I say, pinching his cheek and talking in that silly way you do to a baby. "It’s not your fault that you’re an old man now, and old men slip and fall all the time."

  Mac lets out a frustrated grunt that is followed by a painful one when he makes an sudden movement.

  "Mac! You have to lie still and rest," I say. The fun is gone, replaced by worries.

  "Easy for you to say," Mac says. "You don't have an itch you can't scratch."

  "Why didn't you say so? What do you think I am?"

  "Family."

  "I'm a highly trained nurse, and scratching itchy spots just happens to be my specialty," I say with nothing but hurt pride and feelings. Pretending the excitement at the thought of laying my hands on my own stepbrother isn't a providing a powerful incentive to go down this avenue, I ask Mac where the itchy spot is that needs scratching. Averting his eyes, Mac says my name in a way that tells me he doesn't want to talk about this.

  "What?" Standing up, I place my hands on my hips, no part of me willing to be sent off like a little girl. Not when all I feel is like a grown woman with needs that I've ignored for ages. Not when one look at Mac, lying there all vulnerable, the form of his powerful body delineated by a white sheet that rises and falls with each deep breath that is representative of the frustration I see edged on his face, makes me crave him that much more. And besides, it isn't as if there is anything obscene about taking care of him in a medical fashion, I tell myself. I've been trained for this, and I'll be damned if I let him reject my care.

  "Turning his head away, Mac tells me what I already knew to be the reason for his reluctance. "You are my sister." His voice is almost a whisper.

  "You are telling me that I can't take care of you because you're my stepbrother?" I say, emphasizing the step with the hope to get through to him.

  "Look, it's not that I don't want to," Mac starts and falls silent. Not wanting to break the pause that follows, I stand and wait with my back straight and my eyes on him like laser beams, even though he still isn't looking at me. It’s my fighting stance, and I know Mac knows me well enough to know that I don't go down easy. Embarrassed, his square jaw set, he finally spills the truth. "I already arranged for a nurse."

  "You what?" I shout, hurt and angry all at once. "I'm a nurse, Mac! I graduated at the top of my class!" I say, blinking hard and fast, I fight to hold back the unshed tears that take me by surprise. So far, I've always been able to play it cool around Mac. Always. But right now I feel like cracking up. How unfair can life be? Yes, he is my stepbrother. So what? Who cares? I don't. But with Mac that seems the only way to define our relationship, all within the context of stepbrother and stepsister. Well, screw him. I want more and I don't care if it is wrong.

  I'm only too aware that the chances of an opportunity like this ever presenting themselves is slim at best. Yeah, probably when he actually is old and senile. This is it. Once he gets up and running again, I'll be left with crumbs of his time at best. There will be weeks where I'll see him in passing at best again, even though we share the same residence. And as wrong as my conscience tells me this is, I don't have it in me to resist what may be my only shot at finally getting through to the man I love. Slowly make my taboo desires known—without creeping him out, I hope.

  "Amelia," Mac starts and I'm quick to interrupt him.

  "Don't you Amelia me, Mac," I say, hot tears spilling over at the thought of being rejected. "I'm taking care of you and that is the end of it."

  When his eyes finally turn to me, they are filled with silent pride. Then he takes my breath away as his eyes drop and narrow, taking in my figure with the same lust, burning at my center, that I've had to deal with for years. My jaw literally drops when what it means registers. No wonder he is as insistent as me.

  "Besides, I'm your stepsister," I remind him again. I know we both don't think of each other in those terms—never have—but it might be just what Mac needs to hear, to give in to the feelings that he clearly is uncomfortable with.

  Mac

  "I don't know," I say. I really don't know, but I do know that I need her out of here fast. Standing there like that, all stubborn with her chest stuck out—filling her blouse in a way that makes it hard not to stare, and denims that fit her like a second skin—it’s waking my cock up.

  "Well, I do, Mac," Amelia says. "Now unless you want to hurt my feelings, I'll be your damn nurse."

  Despite the sorry state I'm in, I'm smiling. Proud of the woman at my bedside. "Fine," I finally say, "but I still think it is…unorthodox."

  "Great!" Amelia says, visibly relaxing.

  Before I know it, Amelia has planted a fat kiss on my cheek that sabotages my efforts at calming my cock down. The touch of her lips is enough to trigger a physical impulse to wrap my arms around her and pull her close. Thank God, I can't. But I can't do anything about that fast-hardening cock or the longing in my chest, either. But that isn't on my mind. What is, is the fact that for the first time I am actually contemplating allowing it to take the lead, and I wonder what that says about me.

  "Great," I say, like a man uncertain if he should rejoice or weep. Praying she won't notice the way my cock stirs beneath the sheet that is too thin to hide anything, I just smile and hope to God that Amelia won't look away from my face. If only it were winter, not the midst of summer; I could have a thick blanket that would do something to cover up that damn thing that acts like a teenager.

  "So, where is that itch?" Amelia says, grinning from ear-to-ear.

  "It's gone," I say, a little too quickly to be believable.

  "Mac!"

  "Amelia, I'm really tired, and I'd love to just take a nap now," I lie, trying to hide the shame that washes over me. "There is no itch, I swear. The first itch that appears, I'll holler for the nurse on call at the top of my voice."

  I'm six foot five inches and I come in at two-hundred-and-twenty-four pounds, nothing but muscle and bone, but I swear I've never felt so small and weak when I see Amelia look at me with one perfect eyebrow raised to make it clear she is seeing straight through me.

  "You’d better," Amelia says finally. "Because the way this nurse deals with bad patients is by taking their toys away."

  "Roger, Nurse Ratchet."

  "Nurse Ratchet, sir?" Amelia says in what I imagine is her formal nurse-voice, reducing me to the patient that I don't want to be.

  "A movie, nurse."

  "I'll Google it, and if it implies anything bad…" Amelia says, her eyes sparkling, allowing to let the words hang there like a threat. God, she is already enjoying being the one in charge here.

  "You'll take my toys away, nurse."

  "I'll tickle the soles of your feet, sir," Amelia says and sticks her tongue out like a little girl. That is all it takes for a frustrated sigh to escape, my cock growing even harder at the thought of that tongue sliding over its surface.

  Worrie
d, Amelia asks me if I'm alright, and in a flash she is all over me again, her hands on my chest and her face close enough to take in her sweet smell. I'm in hell, and my stepsister is my tormentor. The saddest part is the knowledge that she has no idea what she does to me by just being there.

  "Just tired," I say. I am. Tired of hiding my feelings and faking indifference. But I have more pressing matters at hand than my own misery. I really need her to get the hell out of here. Maybe she will get tired of nursing after a few days, or I can talk her into taking a trip to Europe to have some fun before she starts her job as Florence Nightingale. But even as I think so, my heart cringes at the thought of her going away. I guess that means I'm a big pussy.

  "Are you in pain?" Amelia asks,causing a shiver of hurt each word.

  "No, just tired," I lie. What else can I say? Would her concern be erased if she knew the true cause for that sigh? No, she'd probably be freaked out. What? You want me? Need me? Ewwww. I'm your stepsister, dude!

  "No itch that needs scratching or anything else that requires attention? Anything I can do, you just say the word, Mac. Anything at all," Amelia says.

  More than the words, it is the unexpected huskiness in her voice that takes me by surprise, and the way she pushes out her chest, implying things that I want but know I can never have. Studying her face for signs that tell me I heard right, my mind tells me that I'm imagining things. But then why do her cheeks color as she nervously looks away, cocking her head, delicate fingers trailing her neck from just below her ear to the base? A sight that is enough for the barely contained lust to break through at full force.

  Amelia

  "Just a nap and a nurse who will do exactly as I tell her to," Mac says, his voice deep and his magnificent eyes narrowed at me like a predator studying its prey. The emphasis that he puts on "exactly as I tell her to do" triggers another explosion of heat in my chest and belly, my imagination not shy to fill in what that could mean, and my pink snatch spasms with forbidden longing.

  "Which, right now, means that she will dedicate herself to creating a dinner that is fit for kings," Mac hastily adds, pulling his stare away. Thinking of dinner, I imagine spreading my legs for Mac, offering my swollen wet snatch for him to feast upon. Bon appetite, Mac!

  I guess I could ask him if that big hard cock is there for me, the one he is trying to hide so badly by raising his one good leg to create a tent that didn't prevent me from seeing what is going on under the thin sheet, but I don't. Clearly this is going to take time and patience, and some tact. But since I've waited for years already, I think I can handle that. I'm already blown away knowing that clearly my stepbrother isn't as indifferent to me as I believed he was.

  "I will do exactly as you say as long as it benefits my patient, sir," I say, formal but suggestive like a very naughty nurse.

  Mac's eyes are instantly back on me again, illuminated with a lust that only fuels my own. A pang of excitement shoots through my pussy, which is aching longingly to familiarize herself with Mac's hard cock. Certain he can see straight through me, with those brilliant eyes of his, I'm hit by self-consciousness. Suddenly I can't wait to get away from that penetrating gaze of his; my face is burning.

  "Sleep tight," I say under my breath, already rushing for the door, not to prepare dinner but to tend to a pussy that is leaking out of control. "Old man," I add lovingly.

  "Amelia!" Mac thunders just when I close the bedroom door behind me.

  "I love you too, Mac!" I yell, butterflies in my belly that I desperately want to believe are justified, meant to survive. I take the grunt that I get back as his way of saying he loves me back, just as much.

  The next hours are spent masturbating, showering, Googling Nurse Ratchet—who turns out to be a total bitch of a nurse and a total control-freak—and deciding on what to wear. My nurse uniform is the obvious choice, of course. Thing is, while rubbing my drooling pink snatch, pleasure rising and falling with the pulsing of my throbbing clit, imagining Mac's hard cock pounding me at a steady rhythm, a thought came to mind; one that had me sigh and moan that much deeper, my pussy squirting as I lifted my back off the bed with a grunt. Just thinking of going that far increases the intensity of the fire between my legs, but intimidates me too. What makes me decide to go for it is the thought that one of us has to take charge or nothing might ever happen.

  Sticking my head around the door, I'm not surprised to see Mac wide awake. "Mac, I'll be out for a bit," I say. Barely resisting the temptation to check if that bulge is still there, I tell him that I'll be back in an hour. After his assurance that he isn't going anywhere, delivered with a sour look, I'm off to see Stefanie.

  What I don't tell him is that I'm going to borrow one of her nurse uniforms, one that will be several sizes too small, which means that it will hug me tight enough to make it look like my breasts are about to send the buttons flying through the air. Nor do I see a need to inform him that I will also drop by Christie's, the place to go shopping if top quality lingerie is your kink; it is mine.

  "Who is the lucky guy?" is the first thing Stefanie throws at me, in typical Stefanie-style.

  Mac! I almost blurt out. Almost. Instead, I just grin like a fool and give her a hug.

  "Look at you, girl," Stefanie says, studying me like I'm a lab animal. "You are positively beaming and head-in-over-heels." It is easy to see how happy she is for me. She has been trying to hook me up with a "guy worthy of you" for ages, and has probably lost sleep over my lack of a love life.

  "Actually," I say, "with the job market being what it is, I decided to just seduce my future employer and work my way to the top by capitalizing on my assets. Hey, beats changing sheets and all that other hard work, right?"

  Shaking her head in disbelief, Stefanie gives me her most disappointed look. The one that says, "How can you shut your best friend ever out like this?"

  When I leave her apartment a good half-hour later, she has grilled me thoroughly but to no avail. Refusing to let me go until I've spilled the beans, we reached a compromise by me swearing out loud, on all that is sacred to me, that she'll be the first to hear the name of the mystery man who is making me glow. "Not to mention blush like a girl with her first crush," Stefanie was happy to point out.

  My next stop brings the reality of what I've set out to do brutally home. Brutal enough to come to a pause when my fingers brush the silk garter belt and matching stockings that I'm dying to wear for Mac.White like my uniform, my pussy spasms at the thought of presenting myself in it like an exclusive present. All his, and his alone.

  Lost in thought, my heart rate picks up a notch and my pink snatch leaks that much harder as I picture myself casually entering Mac's bedroom, dressed up in a uniform that is criminally tight and too short, leaving my bare breasts bouncing and doing nothing to hide my long legs. The stockings and garter belt make me feel sexy and confident, as do the high heels that no nurse would ever wear on the job.

  His green eyes are on me as I stride over to his side as if nothing is out of the ordinary, burning with the same intensity that I saw earlier, and my heart is beating out of control. Rocking my hips, I watch the effect I have on my own stepbrother as I watch the bulge underneath the sheet grow fast, not stopping until it stands up at its full strength. Stirring in the same way that my wet pussy spasms powerfully.

  "Sir, are you ready for your nurse to rubyou clean?" I ask with a coolness that stands in stark contrast to the wild beating of my heart.

  With a voice that is pure gravel, nailing me mercilessly without restraint or even a hint of shame, Mac tells me he is.

  He is even shameless enough to ask me if I'm not going to take my uniform off after I return from the en suite bathroom with the washing supplies I need. "It would be a shame to get that uniform wetter than it already is," he says. Breathing in deeply through his nose, his eyes closed, he openly takes in the scent of my sex that hangs around me.

  My voice is hoarse and carries a tremble that echoes my pounding heart and the growing fire b
etween my legs when I tell him how thoughtful he is. Walking over to the French doors that overlook the garden, my back to him, I try to keep my trembling legs steady as I stand with them slightly apart. Bathing in the sunlight, I undo first one button and then another. I'm sweating, and since I'm not wearing any panties my juices are freely running down my inner thigh.

  By the time I've reached the final button, Mac's heavy breathing hits my eardrums in a steady rhythm, each deep breath sending an excited shiver down my spine. He sounds like a powerful animal sneaking up behind me, ready to jump me and have his way; ready to devour the woman who pulls her uniform open with trembling hands.

  Dizzy and lightheaded, I let the uniform slide over my bare shoulders, down to only a garter belt, stockings and high heels. Running my hands through my hair, I sway my hips, slowly, as if I'd done it a million times before. Every cell of my being is alive and humming. Turned on. Horny as if I took a triple Horny Pill. Placing one hand on my hip, I part my legs a little wider and I hear Mac's breath stall.

  The searing heat between my legs is so bad now that my aching pink snatch is spasming and leaking out of control. Still swaying my hips, I bite my lower lip as I slide my free hand down my flat belly to my sex, and a deep lustful moan escapes when I touch my throbbing clit. Rubbing my pleasure organ, I throw my head back and close my eyes, my heavy breathing mixing with Mac's.

  "Amelia," Mac finally says with a voice that is raw and deep, its timbre telling me all I need to know.

  Turning around, I'm met by his predatory look and the pole that makes the sheet stand up. My whole body wants to run to him, but I'm not done yet with my teasing act. Cupping my breasts, I lift one breast up and run my tongue over the stiff nipple, my eyes locked with Mac's. His square jaw instantly tenses and his cock stirs under the sheet.

  "Are you going to use that tongue too to clean me up, nurse?" Mac says. But it isn't phrased as a question, it comes out as a command that sends a wave of warmth from my belly down to the pussy that I want to impale all the way down to the root of the pole that keeps stirring.