Page 29 of Forbidden Confessions, Volume 2 (The Forbidden Volumes #1)

“Baby girl…” I breathe against her lips before I trail kisses down the soft skin of her throat. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

She arches into me, tangling her fingers in my hair. “Show me. Please…”

I shouldn’t. Really. She belongs to Ethan, and not only am I poaching, I’m a grown-ass man seducing an underage girl. I have to stop or I’m going to hell.

Even with that litany in my head, I can’t stop myself from sliding my hands under the hem of my shirt, gliding my palms across her silken skin, then gripping her hips and pulling her against the hardness straining my jeans.

Together, we rock, me notching against her pussy while she moans and gasps, nearly breaking my control completely.

This has to stop.

With a curse blazing across my brain, I wrench away. “When is your birthday?”

“March sixth.” Her voice wobbles, sounding breathless and wrecked.

Fuck. That’s seven interminable weeks away. I have to stop this, put distance between us before I lift her, carry her back to my bed, and stop caring about anything except losing myself inside her.

But one glance at her dilated eyes and swollen lips, and my logic burns away. I kiss her again, deeper this time, my hands roaming under the T-shirt, fingertips dragging across places I shouldn’t touch. Second later, it’s clear she isn’t wearing a bra.

Fuck. And her mouth… The flavor of her kiss is like honey and sin and everything I’ve ever wanted but never dared to taste. I’m already addicted. Obsessed. I need her now. I’m going to lose my goddamn mind without her. I hope like hell she’s prepared for what I’m about to unleash on her.

“Dad? What the fuck?” Ethan demands.

I spring away from Havana like I’ve been electrocuted and whirl to find my son standing in the doorway, his face a mask of shock and fury.

Pale and shaking, she slides off the counter and backs away, tugging my shirt down self-consciously. “Ethan, I?—”

“I’m not mad at you.”

My son turns to me, eyes narrowed dangerously. Yeah, he’s furious at me for crossing boundaries. And burning bridges? Probably. I was on the verge of taking his fucking girlfriend to bed.

Jesus, I feel horrible. “Ethan, buddy… I?—”

“Don’t!” His voice turns low, almost vibrating with anger, as he steps between Havana and me, blocking her protectively and facing off against me. “She’s too young. You need to back the fuck off.”

He’s right, and I’m horrified that my control snapped. “Ethan?—”

“No. She has enough problems, goddamn it. I promised I’d keep her safe, and I’m prepared to beat the shit out of any asshole who tries to take advantage of her, even you.”

“I wasn’t?—”

“Bullshit. If I hadn’t walked in, you would have. Don’t fucking touch her again.” He storms out, slamming the front door behind him, leaving Havana with her arms wrapped around herself and her expression imploding in the painful wreckage of our confrontation.

“I’m sorry,” I say, though the words feel inadequate. “I should never have?—”

“Don’t.” Her voice is small. “Please don’t apologize for that.”

But I do anyway, backing toward the door like a coward. Because I know if I stay, if I look at her lips swollen from my kisses for one more second, I’ll be on her again.

And next time, I won’t stop.

“He’s right. That can’t happen again. You’re too young and…I’m fucking old enough to know better. But hear me well, baby girl. No matter what you’re doing, no matter where you are, come March sixth? I’m coming for you. And unless you tell me no, I’m going to make you mine.”

“I understand,” she whispers.

Does she understand the kind of passion I’m dying to heap on her? Really?

I rake a hand though my hair. “Put some clothes on. And…don’t ever let yourself be alone with me again.”

“But—”

“No. If you do, I’ll stop giving a damn how old you are. I’ll strip you down, get between your pretty thighs, and fuck you until you understand you’re mine. You got it?”

Seeming to curl her arms even tighter around her, she chokes out, “Yes.”

All day, the quiet catch in her voice and those wide, tormented eyes haunt me. By midafternoon, when Havana should be coming home from school, I bail on work and haul ass home to talk to her, apologize. But by the time I push through the door and stride to my son’s room, it’s empty of her stuff.

She’s gone. No note. No goodbye. Just an empty room that still smells like vanilla and regret.

Fuck . Where did she go? What is she doing for money? Will she be safe?

I feel like a heel…but it’s probably for the best.

“Son of a bitch…” Ethan mutters behind me. “She never showed up at school. Now I fucking know why. Good job.”

My heart sinks to my toes as he shoulders his way past me and slams the door in my face. But I deserve it.

I have to find her. Tonight. Now. At least make sure she’s okay, see if she needs help. I’ll keep my distance…

It doesn’t take me long to track Havana down.

I don’t love the place she ended up renting that night.

I struggle to sleep without her under my roof.

What if she’s lonely? What if she’s in danger?

The worry drives me fucking insane. I do my best to take care of her from afar—subsidize her rent in silence, invent underhanded ways to feed her, even strong-arm a local vet into hiring her.

I tell myself I’m being responsible, making sure the girl I drove away isn’t suffering because I couldn’t restrain my lust.

But I’m bullshitting myself. I want her. I crave her. I’m obsessed with her.

So I watch her.

She never sees me, and I don’t touch her—no matter how much she tempts me.

But now it’s her eighteenth birthday, and I’m done pretending I can live without her. Tonight, Havana Smith will become mine—completely, irrevocably, in every way.