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  Olivia sputtered with laughter.

  * * *

  Thanks to Jordan, the night wasn't a total fail.

  Between chuckles and bites of barely salvaged burned toast, the evening managed to turn out quite enjoyable.

  After dinner she went to the freezer to collect the two desserts she'd made earlier in the day the only part of dinner that hadn't been wrecked.

  Two frosted bowls of vanilla bean ice-cream topped with whipped cream and strawberry sauce looked divine, especially with the one strawberry sitting up top at a jaunty angle. Olivia only hoped she wouldn't trip on her way to the table with them.

  He took one look at the frozen concoctions, wiggled his brows comically, and said, "So you are partial to whipped cream."

  She could feel a blush spreading over her cheeks, but his playful mood brought out her own fun-loving nature. "Only on alternate Tuesdays."

  Olivia motioned toward the back door. "Want to sit outside?"

  "Anything for whipped cream," he said with a grin.

  On the swing, Olivia asked about his daughter.

  "I think she's fairly well adjusted. Being without her mother doesn't seem to have affected her as much as it might have. I mean, Ariel never had a chance to know her."

  "It must be tough, though, with all her friends coming around with their moms..."

  Jordan shrugged. "There are times. We get through them."

  Olivia crossed her legs at the knees, enjoying the slow movement of the swing beneath her and the warm scent of Jordan at her side.

  Talking about kids with him felt easy. Natural.

  "Sometimes I think Danielle could use a bit of male influence in her life," she admitted, "especially in the area of discipline. I think I'm much too soft on her at times."

  "Oh, so she's spoiled, is she?" he teased.

  "No, not really spoiled, just sometimes it's hard for me to say no. Being a single parent, I don't really have as much time for her as I'd like."

  Jordan leaned back in the swing. "I understand. It's the same with Ariel and me. After breakfast, there's school and the gym. In the evening, there's homework and showers and teeth to brush. We barely have time to enjoy each others' company before another demand on our time shows up."

  He grew quiet, and for long moments they simply sat there, enjoying the sound of crickets in the background while lost in companionable silence.

  "You know what I'd most like an answer to at the moment?" he asked.

  Olivia shook her head, arching a brow in question, and he grinned.

  "How you taste with vanilla bean ice cream. I confess, I have been fantasizing about it for ages now."

  Placing their dessert bowls on a low table at the side of the swing, he motioned her closer and she obeyed.

  Relaxing against his chest, she allowed him to kiss her again. His lips brushed softly against her temple, her nose, her chin, and then moved in a trail of short, quick kisses to the sensitive area beneath her earlobe, which he nipped gently before coming back to claim her mouth with his own.

  His tongue swept against hers, tasting, teasing, and Olivia moaned low. Her body, remembering how pleasant a reaction his kisses had aroused in her last time, responded accordingly.

  She could feel her breasts grow taut, feel her nipples pucker, hardening behind the thin, sheer lace of her bra. Warmth swept through her, heating her before pooling at the juncture of her thighs.

  A flash of long-denied need filled her, and her hands moved up to his shoulders, caressing him, enjoying the feel of his body heating her palms even through the material of his casual shirt.

  Olivia cautioned herself against moving too quickly. Jordan's deep kisses set up an ache inside of her that made her want to rush.

  Being held in his arms felt so good.

  He smelled of musk and male and hot summer nights, and she couldn't help but wonder how his bare skin would taste as he trailed his tongue across her bottom lip.

  "Good," he whispered against her mouth. "So damn good. Olivia..."

  The shrill ringing of the phone snapped her out of the passion induced daze she'd fallen into, and she jumped to her feet.

  Feeling rather like a guilty teen who'd just got caught necking on the sofa with her boyfriend, Olivia laughed. "I'm sorry, Jordan. I- I'll just be a minute."

  Gathering up the ice cream bowls as she went, Olivia disappeared inside the house.

  A few minutes later, she was at her front door, wishing him goodnight.

  Chapter Five

  The next day, Olivia tried to catch Jordan before he left the gym. She caught up with him outside the juice bar. "Jordan, got a second?"

  He glanced down at his watch, and then back at her. "Yes, a few. What's up?"

  Olivia readjusted the strap of her black-trimmed, hot pink duffel on her shoulder. "Are you busy later?"

  "Yeah, actually I am. But..."

  Disappointed, Olivia looked away just as Vivian poked her head around the door.

  "Ready Jordan?"

  Her gaze snapped to the door where Vivian stood, looking put together as always with not a single hair out of place. She glanced at her watch, a tiny, delicate thing that Olivia knew she would have lost in a week.

  "We don't want to be late," she cautioned Jordan, and Olivia's stomach dropped.

  It didn't take a mathematician to figure out they were leaving together. She'd come here to ask Jordan if he'd like to go with her to pick up Danielle tomorrow, but if he were seeing Vivian...

  Vivian shot her a look of smug haughtiness mixed with underlying contempt, and Olivia felt her face heat with embarrassed shame.

  She guessed the rumors were true. Jordan Waycross was a playboy. Well, she refused to be another of his playthings. Turning on her heel, she hurried out of the room, ignoring Jordan's call for her to wait.

  Tears pricked the backs of her eyelids, tears she refused to shed in front of Jordan or Vivian. She should have known it would end like this, she thought minutes later, throwing her bag in the car. The odds of anything more than a physical attraction with Jordan Waycross had been against her from the start.

  * * *

  Olivia removed the cold-rag-gone-warm from her eyes, hoping the cool compress had helped take the redness and swelling from her eyelids from the night before. She didn't need Dani asking why her eyes were red and swollen.

  After barely sleeping the night before, she'd awakened at 5:00 A.M., showered, dressed, and fallen back in bed, completely disgusted with her track record with men and life in general.

  Now, it was almost noon. She sighed and checked her watch. Even though she'd prefer to hide here in her bed for the rest of the day, it was time to pick up Danielle.

  Rolling out of bed, she trudged downstairs to grab her purse.

  Her phone rang just as she stepped out the door. Ignoring it for the moment, she turned the key in the lock and pulled the door closed behind her.

  Her phone continued to ring, its generic ringtone grating on her nerves. With an irate sigh, she dropped her keys inside her purse and fished out the phone.

  Glancing down at the display, she saw the name Jordan Waycross spilled across the front in bold letters. An unpleasant jolt bolted through her. Her stomach twisted along with her lips and she pressed 'ignore' before dropping it back in her purse, unanswered.

  She shook her head, thinking how in the two weeks since Dani had been gone, she'd managed to both date and lose 'another' man. Whether the loss was tragic or twistedly comedic had yet to be decided.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Olivia watched as her daughter raced toward her, hand in hand with a girl she'd obviously met at camp. She smiled.

  "Mom! This is Ariel, my new best friend. See, Ariel, I told you she's hot. Your dad will think so, too."

  Olivia's eyes widened. "Danielle, I hardly think 'hot' is an appropriate word choice for describing one's mom," she reprimanded, and then turned to the other girl and held out her hand. "It is very nice to meet you, Ariel. Did you have
a good time at Bent Tree summer camp?"

  Before the girl could reply, a shadow fell over their small group. "I think 'hot' describes your mother perfectly, Danielle."

  "Daddy!" Ariel squealed and ran into his arms.

  Olivia looked up into a pair of flashing green eyes, prepared to give the presumptuous fellow a severe dressing-down, but the scathing retort never left her lips.

  Jordan stood there, watching her carefully as he hoisted his daughter up onto his back for a piggyback ride. "I wanted to tell you at the gym, but you left before I could. Vivian's car broke down, and I promised to give her a lift before it was towed."

  Olivia frowned. "So the two of you weren't going out?"

  His gaze flashed to hers. "Vivian and I? No. She's a bit young and flighty for my tastes. I prefer hot moms who wear pink and blue tank tops, burn the french toast, and has the cutest daughter who just happens to be Ariel's new best friend."

  Olivia just smiled and shook her head. She pushed a hand through her hair, trying not look at Jordan.

  It was a futile attempt.

  Jordan grinned. "So... Who's up for ice-cream?"

  The End.

  Forbidden Desires

  Leighann Dobbs

  This is a work of fiction. None of it is real.

  All names, places, and events are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real names, places, or events are purely coincidental, and should not be construed as being real.

  FORBIDDEN DESIRES

  Copyright © 2012

  Leighann Dobbs

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner, except as allowable under “fair use,” without the express written permission of the author.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 1

  The sound of footsteps behind her caused an immediate burst of self-consciousness. Abby Shaw could just imagine the view – with her upper half inside the late model Ford Mustang her backside was bound to be the prominent focal point to whomever was passing by.

  “Coming to the going away celebration tonight, Miss Shaw?”

  Suppressing a groan of abject mortification at being caught with her butt sticking out of the car by the professor she'd secretly had a crush on since beginning the semester in the fall here at Bellworth University, Abby straightened from putting her things in the car.

  Shielding her eyes from the glare of the bright spring sun with one hand, her face scrunched up a bit in an attempt to see him despite the sun blocking her view.

  “Oh, Professor McQuinlan. Didn't know who was there,” she said, then shook her head. “I'm not going to be able to make it. I don't have a ride.”

  Ian McQuinlan, Professor of the Archaeology department here at the Bellworth University, arched a brow, looking pointedly at first the car she'd just ducked out of and then back at her.

  Abby grinned. “My sister is borrowing it to run some errands after I get home. Her car is still in the shop.”

  He relaxed casually against the side of her car, hands tucked into the pockets of his khakis, legs crossed leisurely at the ankles, and nodded. “I see. So why don't you catch a ride with someone? I'm sure Laurie or Eric would give you a ride.”

  Abby recognized the little flicker of irritation she felt at the ease he displayed in her presence. How could he stand there all put together when her pulse was skittering like a rabbit? She shook her head no, but made no move to leave.

  “Tell you what, Abby … I'll bring you.”

  Abby's eyes widened. “Wouldn't that be … inappropriate?”

  “Not unless you're thinking of taking advantage of me,” he teased.

  Abby could feel the dark blush spread across her cheeks and ducked her head to avoid his direct gaze. If he only knew what she'd been thinking during today's lecture …

  “Very funny, Professor – ”

  Ian chuckled. “I thought so, too, Miss Shaw.”

  His easy laughter was infectious. Abby felt the corners of her lips tilt upward.

  “Come on, Abby,” he urged playfully. “When was the last time you went out and had a little fun? All study and no play makes Abby a dull girl, you know.”

  Since before her mother died, actually, Abby thought. And that was a disaster.

  Peering up at him from her somewhat less than glamorous height, she nodded. “All right, Professor. You win. Pick me up at eight?”

  Righting himself, Ian nodded. “Eight it is.”

  A little thump of his knuckles against the blue metalflake fender, and he was walking away, back toward his own vehicle in the faculty parking area, she guessed.

  “Drive safe, Abby, and I'll see you then.”

  Abby ducked into her car with a groan, barely refraining from banging her head against the steering wheel. Of all the stupid things she could have done after re-entering college, she thought, falling for her archaeology Professor had to be at the top of the list.

  * * *

  Ian glanced over for what must have been the hundredth time to where Abby was sitting alone in the secluded corner booth she'd claimed almost as soon as she walked in the club.

  She'd been sitting there most of the night, he realized with a pang of guilt, while he, Eric, and Laurie had been enjoying themselves.

  Pushing his way through the crowd of gyrating bodies on the dance floor, he joined her, sliding quickly into the booth beside her. “No dancing tonight?”

  He had to half shout over the heavy music vibing through the place to be heard, but he knew she did hear him because she smiled and responded with a quick shake of her head.

  “I'm afraid I've never been one for dancing, really. I'm not very good at it,” she yelled back.

  His brow furrowed. “So you're just going to sit here until it’s time to go?”

  He looked so horrified by the idea, Abby laughed. “It's working so far.”

  Ian suddenly felt bad for talking her into coming tonight. Really bad. He couldn't have known she didn't dance, but he would never have thought she'd hide herself in the corner all evening.

  “You sure you don't want to dance?”

  Abby nodded, a self-deprecating smile twisting her lips. “Trust me, I'm doing you a favor. If I were to go out on that dance floor, the whole place would clear and you'd probably get a few hundred people laughing at you for picking me as your dancing partner.”

  Ian couldn't help but laugh at the image her words evoked. He was about to suggest he take her home when the low, melodic beat of a slow song broke over the speakers. He stood and held his hand out to her.

  “Come dance with me.”

  She tried to refuse, but he would hear none of it.

  “Come on, Abby, it's a slow song. No one can mess those up,” he teased.

  “One dance and then I'll take you home,” he promised. “It's getting late anyway and we do have an early flight to catch tomorrow.”

  “All right,” she finally agreed. “One dance, Professor McQuinlan. I apologize in advance if I kill your toes.”

  Ian laughed again. “My toes accept your apology in advance. Now get your butt out of that booth, and let's go.”

  She did, grumbling beneath her breath all the way to the center of the dance floor.

  Ian grinned and pulled her close … but not too close.

  She smelled good, he thought. Not like the designer perfumes many of the students wore at University but a more natural scent. Jasmine and gardenia after a hard summer rain, he decided, and leaned closer to inhale the fragrance more deeply. “I'm glad you decided to come tonight, Abby.”

  Chapter 2

  Abby was quiet on the drive home.

  She blamed her silence on being in such close proximity to Ian. It might also have had something to do with the fact she was selfishly reliving those few minutes she'd b
een in his arms tonight as they'd danced.

  She could still smell his cologne and the deeper, darker scent that was all his. It created a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach that put her at ease and made her a bundle of nerves at the same time.

  “You okay?”

  She snatched her head around so fast, a muscle pulled in the side of her neck. She winced. “Yes,” she said with a grimace, rubbing her neck. “I'm fine.”

  Ian slid her a sideways glance that clearly said he wasn't convinced, but he didn't press her for details.

  A few minutes later, he pulled up to her apartment complex, killed the engine, and opened his door. “I'll walk you up.”

  “I can manage just fine on my own, Professor. I'm a grown woman.”

  He gave her a look of male appreciation that said he wholeheartedly agreed with her assessment. “And that's precisely why I'm walking you to your door, Abby. You might not have noticed lately, but you're a very attractive young woman and there are those who would not hesitate to take advantage of that.”

  It took a moment for his words to sink in. When they did, Abby blushed. Her stomach knotted. He found her attractive? The knowledge spread through her like a warm glow.

  “Right,” she mumbled. “I wasn't thinking.”

  Ian muttered something noncommittal, got out of the car, and walked around to her side where she was already stepping out. He took her hand, and Abby hoped he couldn't feel it tremble.

  The walk up to her apartment took less than three minutes, yet it seemed to stretch on forever.

  “This is me,” Abby said, pointing at her door the instant they reached it. She couldn't quite make herself lift her head to meet his gaze. “Thanks for taking me along tonight, Professor McQuinlan. I had fun, believe it or not.”

  “I'm glad.”

  “Well, then, I guess I'll see you tomorrow … .”