Forbidden Lust

17

Barrett

Iheard groans coming from her room. I leaped the steps two by two, hastily walking to her ajar door.

When I’d pushed it the rest of the way open, I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t a lobster clam bake. Lourde was naked with a red chest and stomach with white triangular patches over her tits where her bikini once was.

“Jesus, fuck, are you trying to get melanoma?”

“I heard you coming. Thought what’s the point of covering up. And no, I’m not trying to get melanoma. I fell asleep on the sand. I didn’t get too much sleep last night, remember?” A slow grin spread across her face.

I was annoyed with her, but it didn’t stop me from entering or kneeling in front of her, assessing the damage on her skin.

“Ever heard of sunscreen? Usually, you apply before you fall asleep.”

“Pepper and Grace have already given me the third degree.”

“You're lucky these aren’t third-degree burns!” I ran my hand down the middle of her chest. Her skin was scorching hot and would only get worse if not treated.

I looked down at the bottle next to her and picked it up, scanning its contents.

“This is shit. You need a burn cream.”

“And you know this, Dr. Black, with the Ph.D. you have hidden in your sock drawer?”

She put her hands back on the bed, leaning back, so her breasts pointed toward me. Sunburned to a crisp, and my dick still bulged in my pants. Distraction was necessary. I dug my phone out and scrolled to find Calvin, my on-call doctor.

“Calvin, it’s Barrett. Can you come to the house and bring some burn cream, the one that’s got the hydrogel?”

“Of course. Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine. Grab an antibiotic ointment too.” I scanned her, and she stared at me, wide-eyed.

Her face wasn’t burned. She must have slept with a hat on. At least that was something.

“Sure. See you in fifteen minutes.”

I slid the phone back into my pocket.

“How do you know so much about burns?”

“Evelyn got burned badly when we were kids.” Okay, that slipped out. I’d never shared that with anyone, yet it rolled off the tongue. Being naked, she distracted me. Obviously.

“I’m sorry. That must have been awful for you all. I’ve never heard you really speak about Evelyn before.”

Awful was right. If you call my father intentionally pouring a cup of scorching tea on her head awful, you’d be damn right.

“Yeah, well, she lives in Boston. I don’t see her much.”

“That’s a shame. I think families are everything.”

She is my only family.

She regarded me, and it was enough about my family. It was already too much. “You seem to have an interesting relationship with your mother.”

“Yeah.” She puffed out her cheeks in a long exhalation. “I love her to bits, but she doesn’t understand me.”

She grabbed her floral dress beside her and slipped it over her head. I zeroed in on her tits before the dress covered them.

“Oh, shit!”

She was stuck, wasn’t she? Goddamn, even the sides of her arms were red as they extended over her head.

“Jesus, Lourde, can’t you do anything?” I leaned over and gently tugged her arm through the arm strap.

“Sorry!” She scowled. “If I’m an inconvenience, just leave. You’re the one who barged in here.”

I blew out my cheeks. Vulnerable Lourde wasn’t something I was used to.

“I know you’ve probably never cared for anyone your whole life, so I’m not asking you to start now. I can figure it out—”

“That’s not true.” I sat beside her. “I’ve had to care for Evelyn.”

She pulled the floral dress down, covering her creamy thighs. “When she was burned?”

“Yes.”

She held my gaze. “And when my parents died.”

“How old were you when they passed?”

Passed.That was such a delicate word. How about, how old were you when you held the gun that killed your mother, and your father shot himself in the head straight after?

“Sixteen and Evelyn was eighteen.”

“Oh, Barrett, I couldn’t imagine what that time must have been like for you.”

I didn’t bother to respond. I wasn’t looking for pity.

“Wait, why wasn’t she the one taking care of you? She was eighteen. You were sixteen.”

Oh, fuck, how to get out of this one? “She had injuries.” I looked up at Lourde. She was looking at me, wanting more, but I couldn’t give her any more.

“And I’m guessing you didn’t.”

“No,” I said quietly, the image haunting me.

“I see.” She cleared her throat. “Well, thank you for calling the doctor.”

“It’s nothing,” I said, getting up from beside her. “I’ll send him up when he arrives.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait for him in the living room.”