Forbidden

Part I: Meet Melinda Iris Stanton

July 18, 2012
Three Days Before the Wedding of Melinda Iris Stanton and Steven Asher Carter...

A small frown creasing my brow, I slowly closed the gap between us. Heat surged throughout my body, and I couldn't decipher if it radiated from or to this man but it was easy to see that he felt it, too. I believed we'd scald one another without a single touch. I needed to find if that was anywhere near the truth.

Inches from him, I stared at the wonder that was before me, but... Jack's expression was close to unnerving me; his eyes were tense but full of something I couldn't recognize.

The want, need of him was palpable; I felt he and I could please one another for hours yet whatever time we shared naked would never be enough.

He searched my face as I moved, making me jittery, in a very good way. I inwardly inhaled at the unfamiliar ache. A loud groan escaped Jack; his arms wrapped around me and he pulled me flush to his hard, fiery body. His head lowered so slowly that I began to shake in anticipation. I licked my suddenly dry lips just one second before his touched mine.

I sighed and his tongue swept over mine. My arms wrapped around his neck, urging him impossibly closer... I wanted and needed him pressed tighter to my aching body.

"I want you, Melinda. So much," he passionately declared, his mouth still tasting mine.

"I want you, too, Jack, and have since I met you," was my heated, honest reply.

My tongue teased his with vigor; my impatient hands slid down his chest and, not caring where we were, I shakily began to unbutton his shirt. I wanted and needed to caress his bare skin. Now.

One button released, Jack's head lifted sharply, his hands tightened on my wrists and stilled my movements. "No," was all he said, breathlessly.

"No," I questioned, panting with him. "I-I thought... You said you wanted me, Jack."

Still staring into my eyes, he lowered my hands until they were at my sides. Jack released me and moved back five paces. The more space he claimed, the more confused and wounded I felt.

"More than you'll ever know."

"Then why did you stop me," I asked, my voice filled with passion and... disappointment. "We can go to another room if..."

His head shook, stopping my suggestion, and his tone sounded hollow and pained when he answered, "You know why that's not possible, Melinda, in any room."

Unshed tears burned and tightened my throat. Yes, I knew why he shouldn't touch me. I made it impossible for him to do so, but it wasn't me alone. Unable to look at him anymore, I turned and moved to lean against a room-sized window. It was wide open on this sunny July afternoon. I stared out over the garden and inhaled deeply at the wonderful scents flowing into the room.

I sighed. "If I weren't–"

"But you are and that won't change," Jack snapped. "We both know better. This... That will never happen again, no matter how much we desire it to and ache to go even further, Melinda."

Jack moved to stand behind me. His shallow breaths hit the back of my head; I shivered as if it were suddenly ten degrees in this hot room.

I turned. Gazing up at him, my expression pleading, I whispered, "Why?"

Silently, Jack removed my ponytail. He ran a hand through my long brown hair, then rested that hand on my cheek. Closing my eyes, I leaned into his touch.

"That's better. Don't ever wear your hair restrained."

I watched him, pleading, "Why won't it happen again, Jack?"