Forbidden Seduction [ Forbidden Obsession]

Coming To Stella



“Right.”

And we do find a tree, right where I always do in the hollow at the base of the hill. A perfect little tree that will go nicely in the corner of the living room. Trevor makes the trek back to the edge of the farm to get one of the workers, helps him cut it and bag it and strap it to the top of my car. By the time we’re pulling back into my driveway, I don’t think I could wipe the smile off my face if I tried.

The tree fits perfectly in the living room, and even though my arms are scratched all to hell from wrestling way too many strings of lights onto it, it looks gorgeous. The lights we used are all white, and even without the ornaments, it’s pretty. I made some hot chocolate, and I turned off the lights are stared at it for a while. Brad had to explain to everyone that I do it every year, but they didn’t ruin my moment.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

I texted June while they were out, and I hoped that they weren’t getting home too late. They pulled in at around ten, fully exhausted from a day of family and presents. I nudge Brad, who’s sitting next to me on the couch. “Go get some matches from the candle drawer,” I say softly.

“Why?”

I give him the mom face. “Don’t question your mother. It’s a surprise.”

June comes in, she’s holding a million bags but she gives me a wink and hands me a little one. “We’ll be back down in a second.”

I take the little bag into the kitchen and meet Brad, who has the matches.

“What are these for?”

“For this.” I pull the small cake out of the bag with a little flourish, and find the pack of candles at the bottom. “It’s only enough for one person-I didn’t think we could get something big without him noticing, so I texted June. No one should be without cake on their birthday.”

Brad is smiling. “That’s really nice of you.”

“He’s your best friend,” I say. “Of course.” I conveniently leave out the part that he’s now also my lover. I hear June and the rest coming down the stairs, so I call out, “Trevor, can you turn off the TV for a second?”

“Sure.”

I light the candles on the cake. There’s not twenty, but I think he’ll get the idea. I start to sing Happy Birthday, and Brad joins in followed closely by the rest of my family. I carry the cake carefully into the living room where Trevor is sitting, an utterly stunned look on his face. His eyes drift from me to the little cake in my hands and back. For a second-just a second-I see a flash of something, sadness and maybe hurt. But then it’s gone and he has a blinding smile on his face.

We finish in all our off-key glory, and I place the cake on the coffee table in front of him. He heaves a breath, and the candles all go out in one go. “Thank you, this is awesome,” he says.

“It’s chocolate,” I say. “June picked it up, and we weren’t sure exactly what you would like, but chocolate is pretty universal, right?” I hand him the fork for him to dig in while he plucks the extinguished candles off the cake.

“Right.”

“Well,” Bradley chimes in, “it’s been a long day, and we have some other family to visit tomorrow, though hopefully it won’t take as long. We should head to bed.” The twins groan as we say goodnight, and June herds them up the stairs.

“Did you finish your paper?” I ask Brad. He’s been periodically excusing himself to work on it throughout the evening.

He winces. “Close. I need a conclusion, basically.”

“Basically?”

“It’s not quite finished, but I have till tomorrow to turn it in.”

I laugh. “Okay. I won’t nag you about it. But please actually finish it.”

I walk into the kitchen to do some prep for tomorrow’s breakfast, and I hear Trevor behind me. “Stella.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for the cake. It was really nice of you.” That odd expression is on his face again, and I’m not sure what it means.

“My pleasure,” I say, and it’s gratifying to see him be the one to blush.

Half an hour later, I’ve determined that I’m going to need a lot more food in this house to feed everyone and plan our next couple all-family dinners before Christmas. I’ll have to go to the store in a couple of days. Maybe tomorrow, depending on how long decorating the tree takes and how much real life work I get in.

I peek my head into the living room. The boys are still watching TV, and the tiny cake has entirely disappeared. I smile at that-at least I picked a cake that he liked. “I’m going to head to bed. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Night, Mom,” Brad says.

It takes Trevor a second or two longer, as he’s looking at me like I’m the cake, but he finally says, “Night, Stella.”

My stomach suddenly bursts into a trembling mix of nerves and desire. I head into my bedroom through the bathroom, stopping to ready myself for bed. I may feel a little stupid doing it, but I make sure that I look good. I put on my least ugly camisole and…nothing else. I’ve never had a use for lingerie and I suddenly find myself cursing my lack of sexy sleepwear. But I suppose it doesn’t matter. If anything happens, I won’t be wearing it for long either way.

Getting into my bed, I pick up a book that I’ve been reading, and even though I find it hard to concentrate, I read. I leave my bedside lamp on, because even if it’s a little desperate, I want Trevor to know that I’m not asleep. Hopefully the light will be enough to let him know that I’m okay with him coming in here.

Finally, a little before midnight, the TV turns off. I hear muffled goodnights and the sounds of steps ascending, followed by the ruffle of linens as Trevor makes up the couch to sleep on. He’s turned the lights off, but I can see the faint silhouette of him thanks to the Christmas tree.

I see him sit down on the couch, and my heart falls. Maybe he’s not going to come in here after all. Maybe he’s tired after helping me lug around the tree and untangling all the lights. But then I see him pull his shirt over his head, and stand. My heart does a one-eighty and lands in my throat as he approaches the door. He opens it silently, just a crack, and asks, “May I come in?”


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.