Taboo Love The Complete Series Read online

  Then the doorknob jiggled, and an elderly woman’s voice broke through our lust. “What’re you doing in there? Hello?”

  I froze in Shamus’ lap. He looked at me and I looked at him.

  “Oh shit,” I murmured, swallowing over a lump of anxiety that lodged in my throat.

  The knob moved some more, and this time I heard a key slide into the lock.

  Shamus just chuckled as I sprang off his lap, his cock sliding out with a wet pop. I scrambled for clothes and tossed his underwear at him.

  The elderly woman opened the change room door just as I jutted my ass in the air while bending to grab my bra.

  “Oh my!” came her surprised exclamation.

  I turned and covered my breasts with my hands as best I could. Shamus held his XL dress shirt in front of my nakedness, offering me some form of modesty.

  Of course our unexpected guest would have to be Mrs. Montgomery, a customer service rep at this store, but also the choir leader at Mom and Dad’s church. No way she’d stay quiet about this juicy scene. Mrs. Montgomery was known for her wagging tongue.

  “It’s not what you think,” I offered weakly.

  She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow, crossing ample arms over an equally ample bosom. “Oh, come on Mary Quinn.” Then she scowled at the underwear clad Shamus. “You two should be ashamed of yourselves. I’ve a good mind to call store security.”

  I hated the woman in that moment, and thought she looked a great deal like a perplexed pug when she was angry.

  “Please, don’t do that, Gertrude.” Shamus flashed a charming smile as he spoke, edging closer to the older woman. “We’re terribly sorry.” He took her hands in his and she blushed until her face went the shade of a ripe tomato. “We’ll never let it happen again, we promise.” Then he brushed a quick kiss over her knuckles, and I swear the woman made a strange little noise low in her throat.

  Thankfully my step brother’s rakish ways actually got us out of the very jam they got us in to.

  “Well…” Mrs. Montgomery took a moment to clear her throat and compose herself. She patted her curly coiffure. “I … I suppose I could overlook this little indiscretion. Just this once, mind you.” She shook her finger at Shamus then at me.

  “Oh, of course.” Shamus continued to ooze Lothario charisma. “Thank you so much for being such a understanding, forgiving soul.” Then he hugged the portly store clerk tight against his bare, brawny chest. I thought I heard her titter in delight, but I couldn’t be sure.

  After she blurted a few more flustered words, Mrs. Montgomery gave us a moment to get dressed and out of the store.

  As Shamus and I climbed in his car, I cast him a worried glance. “Let’s just hope she keeps her promise, because if your father finds out—”

  He held up a hand, silencing me. “I gave her enough of a thrill she’ll keep her trap shut.”

  “Well if you could keep your hands to yourself in public places…” I shot back at him, giving a cheeky smirk as I did so.

  “I’ll remind you, Mary Rose, it was my expert charm that just got us out of that situation.”

  “It also got us into it!”

  “You weren’t complaining a minute before Mrs. Montgomery found us,” came his retort, as he pulled out into traffic.

  ***

  A pair of suede loafers stopped beside the car I was working under. I recognized them as Dad’s right away. A moment later, his voice made my stomach sink.

  “Shamus, I’d like a word with you.” The same sentence he always used when he was pissed with me.

  I slid out from under the car and sat up on the creeper. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. His silvery moustache twitched. “Mrs. Montgomery tells me she ran into you and Mary the other day.”

  My heart thudded and my mouth went dry. Instantly I became a little boy again, facing down Dad on bad report card day. Only this time it wasn’t three C minuses I’d have to explain.

  “That tongue wagging bitch,” I blurted.

  Dad’s salt and pepper eyebrows rose. “Watch your language, Shamus Patrick Quinn.”

  My temper flared and I lost it. “Oh for chrissake, Dad! I’m not twelve anymore.”

  He sighed and a thin white line of tension appeared on his bottom lip. “Now using blasphemy. I raised you better.”

  I stood and stalked away from him, toward a bench full of tools. “Did you come here to bicker or talk?”

  His loafers clipclipclipped over the concrete as he followed. “When are you going to call off this fling with your step sister?”

  I whirled on him, my anger rising higher. “Excuse me? Who says it’s a fling? I love Mary. In fact, I’ve asked her to move in with me.”

  Dad shook his head at me. We stood inches apart, eye to eye. Even at fifty-five he hadn’t lost an inch of his six-foot-four height. I felt instantly like that small boy once more, but I bluffed courage.

  He buried his hands in the pockets of his grey corduroy slacks. “Shamus, do you really think Mary is the girl for you?”

  “Why wouldn’t she be?”

  He ran a hand through his silvery brown hair. “Mary has become … adventurous. Don’t you want a quiet girl who’d liked to raise a family? Let’s face it. You’ll be lucky if you can pin our Mary down long enough to have any sort of meaningful relationship.”

  I glared at him. “That’s your step daughter you’re talking about.”

  And true to Murphy’s Law, that’s when I heard someone scraping their throat. I looked behind Dad only to see Mary standing a few feet away.

  Her green eyes shone with tears. She cast a hurt glance at my father before she turned on her platform boot heel and walked away.

  I sighed and ran a grease smeared hand through my hair. “Thanks, Dad. What a Merry Christmas this will be.” Then I strode off to stop the woman I loved from running away.

  She was in her gray Honda Civic, jamming the key in the ignition when I yanked the door open and got inside. “Where do you think you’re going, Mary Rose?”

  “Away from here.” The words came out a watery sob.

  “Don’t leave.” I put a hand on her wrist, gently guided her fingers away from the steering wheel. “You know my father. Mr. Ultra Conservative. Your mom will bring him around. No worries.”

  She wiped tears from her eyes before she looked up at me. “I don’t know about that, Shamus. I was just talking to Mom. She and Dad have been fighting over us.”

  Once again that fickle bitch fate decided to throw a monkey wrench at me. A knock came at the passenger side window. I turned to see my father, Patrick Quinn, standing there, looking somewhat less severe and a little shamefaced.

  When I opened the door, he bent down and peered in, saying, “I’m sorry, Mary. I… I didn’t know you were there. But, really, the two of you have to admit this … thing you have should end. You should find partners more suitable for you both.”

  Mary’s head snapped up and she glared at him. In her eyes I saw the glimmer of betrayal and deep hurt. Panic and fear wrapped a cold fist around my heart. Perhaps loving my step sister would rip my family apart. I’d never felt so torn in all my life.

  I turned to Dad. “Don’t make this worse than you already have. Let me and Mary talk alone.” I reefed on the door and he stepped back from the car, raising his hands in the air in a defeated gesture.

  After he’d walked away and got into his car, I placed my hand on Mary’s leg and stroked my fingers up and down in a soothing manner. “Let’s go back inside and talk. I’ll close up the garage for a while.”

  She sat and stared forward, tears rolling down her cheeks as she watched Dad drive away. Then she turned to me and whispered, “Okay.”

  I pulled the sliding metal door down and doused the open sign. Mary walked over to the car I’d been working on—a restored 1978 Camaro Z28—and stood inspecting it while she fidgeted with the hem of her cashmere sweater.

  I wrapped her in a reassur
ing hug and she relaxed against my chest. After I kissed the top of her head, I told her, “I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry.”

  “Shamus,” she whispered, lips pressed against my shirt. “Maybe Dad’s right. Maybe we should just end this.”

  My heart plummeted to my shoes. I drew back and searched her face. “Excuse me?”

  She shrugged, swiped tears from her eyes. “I was talking to Mom last night about it. Apparently she and Dad have been fighting over us. She’s happy we’re together, but, well…guess we already know where Dad stands. I don’t want to cause problems between them.”

  I placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up so our gazes met. “Dad’s going to have to accept that we love each other. And that’s it.”

  She tore her gaze from mine and nodded, but I could tell her mind still turned over the idea of splitting up. I wouldn’t admit it aloud, but the idea of losing her scared me to my core. So I kissed her deeply, pouring all I felt for her into this seduction. I would not let her leave the garage in such a distraught state of mind. I would remind her how much we meant to one another, before she had a chance to break it off.

  As my tongue thoroughly explored her mouth, I pressed her against the Camaro. My hands molded to her hips, urging her pelvis closer to mine. I wanted her to feel just how hard she made my cock. So quickly, too. I wanted her to know how intensely she affected me.

  She moaned as I yanked her purple skirt up over the lacy top of her black stockings. She’d been out to lunch with Addy, and they’d dressed up and treated themselves to an early Christmas present: a day at the spa. So she looked particularly stunning, and I planned to show her just how beautiful I thought she was.

  In a lusty fervor, she yanked the lapels of my shirt open, sending buttons zinging everywhere. One pinged off the mirror of the car we were making out against. Then she smoothed her hands up and down my pecs and abdomen.

  I slipped fingers under the lacy seam of her panties and parted her damp labia. I stroked inside their fleshy wetness, then I played with her pussy hole until she writhed and moaned. I’d dip my fingers into her cunt barely an inch, stroke and tease, then withdraw. Soon her moans turned to sexually frustrated gasps and breathy whispers of “Please.”

  “What do you want, sweetie?” I growled into her ear before I tugged her lacy black panties off. “Hmmmm? Want my fingers inside, stroking your pussy until it drips? Maybe my tongue on your clit?”

  She gave a sigh that sounded agonized and reached down to unzip my jeans. She freed my stiff cock from my briefs and caressed the throbbing head. Then she pushed my jeans and underwear down my thighs to give her hand better access.

  “Touch me,” she whispered into our kiss. “Fuck me with your fingers. Fuck me deep, please.”

  I wasted no time complying with her wishes. I pressed two fingers inside her slit while I rubbed her clit with the heel of my palm. Her pelvis rocked forward and her cunt walls clenched tight around my probing digits. I stroked deeper still and she cooed in pleasure, then she gripped my shoulders hard as she shivered against me.

  “Do you want my face between your legs, sweet Mary?” I whispered in her ear just before I nibbled the shell. “I’ll lick every inch of your hot, tight pussy.”

  She let out a strangled cry before pressing her face into my neck. “Oh, yes… please. I love how you lick me, Shamus.”

  I dropped to my knees before her. The concrete wasn’t exactly comfortable, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was wiping any lingering doubts about our relationship from my step sister’s head. Perhaps I was a cad for seducing her worry away, but I had been known to use any means necessary to get what I wanted.

  I ran my hands up her smooth, satiny stockings, then I traced the lacy pattern at the tops with my fingers. While I did this, I blew on her exposed clit, but I denied her the scorching caress of my tongue. She whimpered from my torture.

  Then I splayed her wet labia wide and licked all up and down both lips. I poked my tongue inside her dripping hole, just enough to make her rock her hips against my face, then I drew the tip back up to her clit. After sucking the sensitive bud of flesh into my mouth, I rapidly flit my tongue beneath her clitoral hood. She let out a screech of pleasure and clutched at fistfuls of my short, spiked hair.

  “Please make me come,” she begged in a breathy voice.

  Once more I slid fingers into her wet cunt. Three nudged inside of her this time, and her eager pussy squeezed them hard and took them deep. I curled them and found her g-spot, which I stroked to send her into a frenzy. Her stomach tightened and she gasped loudly. Her pelvis curled and she rocked her hips faster, fucking my probing hand in a rhythm that I knew would bring her to g-spot climax.

  I laved her clit with long, slow licks while I continued to caressed her inside. She soon trembled from the combination of intense stimulation. The force of the orgasm made her cling to my back as she doubled over and squealed out release.

  “Now it’s your turn,” she said, lifting herself up on the car’s hood then spreading her legs wide. “Fuck me hard and cum deep inside of me.”

  I thought about my friend, Bruce Antignani, who would not be pleased if we scratched up his car. If we did any damage, I’d have to fix it up on my bill and hope he never found out. The need to bury my cock deep in her pussy called strong, and my friend’s car be damned.

  She placed her ankles on my shoulders and I ran my hands up and down her thighs before I cupped her ass tight and positioned her to take me all. Still I tortured her before I entered, rubbing my glans around her glistening hole and over her clit once, twice, three times before I nudged my meaty head inside.

  She hissed air through her teeth and a satisfied smile curled her lips. I fucked her slow and aimed my cock toward her g-spot with every thrust. Her eyes darkened as the bliss inside her loins climbed once more. My breathing grew rapid and shallow as my penis ached and burned with the need for release.

  As our shared bliss grew, her eyelids fluttered closed, and she pleaded, “Harder, fuck me harder and faster, please, Shamus.”

  She tilted her hips and relaxed her pussy so she could take me deeper still. Then her tight, muscular walls clamped down around me and milked my shaft while I swiftly pistoned in and out of her cunt.

  I plunged in as deep as I could and held my cock inside her. Her legs wrapped strong around my neck and her butt rose up off the car. I cradled it as I came inside her, my cock twitching once, twice, as it emptied of its seed.

  Then we slid off the car together. I took her in my arms as we did so, guiding her into my lap as we collapsed to the concrete floor, leaning up against Bruce’s Camaro. We hugged each other tight as we caught our breath.

  I tilted her chin and stared into her eyes, giving her a cheeky grin. “So, you staying at my place tonight or vice versa?”

  Mary pursed her lips, dropped her gaze to her lap. “Maybe we should spend a few days apart.” She bit her bottom lip and her eyes shone with tears when she next looked at me. “In fact, maybe we should give each other some space until Christmas Eve.”

  “What?” I squawked, feeling anger renew itself in the center of my heart. An ember of rage burned there that threatened to choke me.

  Mary got to her feet and scrambled to collect her clothes. “I just … can’t think when I’m around you, Shamus.” She shook her head and tugged on her skirt.

  That was the whole point of seducing you! I screamed in my head. To stop you from overthinking about us! Usually it worked, and I was worried as hell to find my seduction tactics had failed this time.

  I dug my fingernails into my palms until it hurt and forced myself to remain calm. “You need some time.” I sighed heavily and ran a hand through my hair. “I understand. I’ll call you tomorrow night.”

  Once I was sure Mary was out of earshot I whirled on the Camaro, let out an angry snarl, and punched the driver side door. My fist made a deep dent and my knuckles crunched. Pain blasted through my hand and shot up my arm in angry spikes
. Snarling “Fuuuuuuck!” I went down on one knee and grasped at my throbbing limb.

  I was downright afraid I would lose the woman I loved. It was time to call on drastic measures. Right after I went to Emergency to see if my hand was broken.

  ***

  Three days passed without a word from Mary. When she wouldn’t answer my calls, I knew it was time to put my plan into action.

  “Oh, cookie,” Trixie said, wrinkling her pale, powdered nose at me. “I’m not so sure I’m cool with this. I like Mary. She’s a doll.”

  I pouted at my employee, hoping I achieved that disappointed little-boy-look I knew worked so well on women. “But you promised. And it’s to save our relationship! Just think, you could be part of the greatest love story ever.”

  Trixie snapped her bubble gum and patted her shiny black mane. “I don’t know, Shamus…”

  Trixie was a performer at the sex club I co-owned with Roscoe Dibassio. She had that Bettie Page pin up look both Mary and I found hot. The woman my step sister and I shared in England had also done herself up all pin up glam. She’d been a bit more Dita Von Teese. Now I would pose my step sister with a similar scenario, only this time my motive was to make her seethe with jealousy. Hopefully she’d realize she couldn’t live without me. But Trixie was having second thoughts about pulling this scam on Mary.

  Addy Gerard—Mary’s best friend since high school—was also in on the ruse with me. When I called her to ask if she’d help, she said, “You’re taking a big risk here, Shamus. What if you push her farther away?”

  “Addy, this is Mary we’re talking about. Have you forgotten how she goes into attack mode when she’s jealous?”

  She giggled. “No, last year’s Valentine’s Day is forever burned into my mind. Good thing I hid in your closet before she could grab a handful of my hair.”

  I chuckled as I remembered the day in question. Addy had been helping me pick out a surprise gift for my step sister when Mary came by my apartment, found us together, and jumped to the wrong conclusion. The poor little blonde had fled to my closet in fear of her life. My step sister had a wicked temper on her.