Forbidden Lust in Paris (Forbidden Temptations Series, Paperback Book 3)
Forbidden Lust in Paris (Forbidden Temptations Series, Paperback Book 3)
Book 3 In the “Forbidden Temptations” Series
A Paris Rembrandt’s art exhibit.
A chance meeting with an intriguing, mature male university professor.
And my moans of passion in between fine works of art and the professor’s bedsheets.
Some may call me conservative, as I pride myself on being selective when it comes to men. I’m also selective in my work as a museum curator and event specialist. Everything needs to be right, exact, with impeccable detail. That’s what makes me good at my job.
But that was before I met Professor Peter Dockery, with his gorgeous black hair, just the right amount of gray at the temples, deep brown eyes, six-foot athletic build, and a package between his legs to match. I didn’t realize destiny would have other plans for me.
Just when I thought I had balanced my love life and my job, happiness eluded me. Perhaps it’s all a fantasy I’ve created in my head, molding it to my desires.
A long-distance relationship between New York and Paris is challenging, and trying too hard to hang on makes me look desperate. But if I don’t try, I might lose the one person who makes me feel safe, loved, and whole. Destiny is an unkind ally when it comes to intimacy and love.
Things get wet and steamy in this age-gap romance. No cheating, no cliffhanger.
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Books in the Series
- Book 1 Forbidden Love
- Book 2 It Was Never Meant to Be
- Book 3 Forbidden Lust in Paris
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What readers are saying:
★★★★★ This book was absolutely fantastic and will definitely have you enthralled from the beginning until the end and the storyline flows throughout the book ~ T. Oenning
★★★★★ The books in this series just keep getting HOTTER and SEXIER and oh my so very good. I have read several books by Rachel and for starters you will not find one single book of hers you won't fall in love with. Her writing is so intriguing that it will capture your heart and everything else throughout the ENTIRE book. I have been very grateful to have found this author and you will LOVE her as well ~ B. Weintz
SNEAK PEAK CHAPTER ONE
“You should have been with me last night. I had some hot rugby player balls deep in me for most of the night,” Jane said with a huge smile.
The waiter who had just arrived cleared his throat. It was hard to say who was more red-faced, him or me. He hurriedly took our order and made a hasty retreat. I looked back at Selena with my lips pursed.
“I swear, Jane. You are so foul. And why would I have wanted to be there for your sexcapades?”
“Not for that, but for before. He was visiting over from the UK with some of his teammates. You could have lost your virginity with a hot British stud with an ass so tight you could—”
Her words were cut off as the waiter reappeared with our drinks and quickly disappeared again, obviously wanting to steer clear of overhearing any more of the conversation. She started to finish, but I held up a finger to shush her.
“Just stop. You spend more time worrying about my virginity than I do,” I chastised.
“Well, someone has to worry about it. You’re 23 fucking years old and still haven’t gotten laid! You must be the oldest virgin in Florida. Everyone else got their cherry popped by some college dude on spring break. Shit. I can’t even remember the guy’s name that did me on the beach.”
“I do. It was Torrence Parker. He was a freshman at UNT.”
“How the fuck do you know all that?”
“Because I was there before you ran off from the party with him. You told me all his details in case he was really a serial killer and drowned you in the ocean after you did the deed. Plus, he was extremely proud of his UNT cup because it had a green handle and looked like it said ‘cunt’ from a certain angle. Real winner, that guy,” I replied, taking a drink of my sparkling water.
“Right,” she said, laughing at the memory. “Seriously, though. You need to let loose and get some.”
“I’ll have sex when it feels proper and with the right person. Besides, I have other things on my mind. I start a new assignment tomorrow with Warrior Care. I’ll be helping a wounded veteran around his house while he recovers.”
“Honestly, Selena, why won’t you just go and get a real job?” Jane said between sips of the wine she had ordered.
“I enjoy what I do. Getting paid isn’t everything,” I replied.
“Getting paid is everything if it helps you move out of your grandparent’s basement,” Jane groaned.
“They don’t have a basement,” I snapped.
“You know what I mean,” she replied.
I did know what she meant, and it wasn’t an uncommon discussion between us. I still lived with the grandparents who raised me. They lived on the lower level, where it was easier for them to get around and I had most of the second floor to myself. There were a couple of rooms that were used for storage, along with the attic, but I had a large bedroom and bathroom to myself. The bedroom beside me had been converted to a workshop and office area, which I used to run a small online crafting business that provided enough income for my day-to-day needs but not much more.
“You spend all your time in your room or your shop like a sulking teenager,” Jane pointed out.
“I like my room. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to spend time alone and when I’m in my shop working. So, actually, I do have a “real” job,” I told her defensively.
“You spend too much time alone and you spend more of it in your room than you do working or playing,” Jane replied.
“I don’t. I’m out with you right now, aren’t I?”
“Yes. Do your grandparents know? I bet they wouldn’t approve,” she said with a smirk.
“Of course, they know. What’s not to approve of? You’re my oldest friend,” I said.
“That’s exactly the problem. They think I’m a troublemaker and a bad influence,” she told me.
I watched as she stabbed a plum tomato with her fork rather fervently and then bit it to it with particular vengeance. Jane was no fan of my grandparents, and she was completely correct in what she was saying. Still, I protested her claims.
“It’s not as bad as all that.”
“If you say so,” she replied, moving lettuce around on her plate as she spoke.
“My grandparents need me there, Jane. They aren’t as young as they used to be, and they could fall or have some sort of episode. What if something happened to one of them and I wasn’t there to help?” I said, taking a bite of my own salad.
“That could happen right now while you are having lunch with me, Selena. It could happen while you’re asleep. One of them could stroke out while you were standing there talking to them,” she pointed out.
“What an awful thought!” I gasped.
“It is, but I’m just saying that you can’t keep things from happening to them. If they are going to have a problem, they will have one. Nothing you or anyone else can do to stop it.”
“That’s true, but I can be there to make sure they get whatever help they need right away.”
“Look, I understand that, but you can’t babysit them all the time, Selena. You need to have a life of your own, too and if they weren’t so afraid you might get one and not come back, they’d encourage you to do so, too. Just because they are a couple of bible beaters doesn’t mean you have to be one.”
“They aren’t that bad,” I scoffed.
“They are that bad. You’ve never even had a boyfriend because you are terrified that they will be disappointed in you for sinning. I’m not even talking about sleeping around. I’m talking about just dating, for fuck’s sake. I still remember them almost coming unglued when you suggested you might go to the school dance with Timothy Sanders. My God! Like anyone would be worried about you doing the nasty with the likes of him,” she ranted.
“I thought he was sweet,” I said, a fond smile on my face.
“He was sweet. He was also six foot six in eighth grade and had red hair and freckles. Oh, and buck teeth!”
“Don’t be so shallow. He was really nice, and I liked him. He liked me too.”
“My point is not that he was unattractive. My point is, who would possibly look at him and think they couldn’t trust him with their granddaughter at a chaperoned dance? He was awkward and scared of his own shadow.”
“You know, Timothy Sanders is a doctor now. He got braces in college and keeps his red hair carefully cropped instead of in those wild curls he used to have. I wouldn’t exactly describe him as a stud, but he’s not so bad anymore. He kind of has a Conan O’Brien sort of thing going on.”
“Is he still single?” she asked, sounding hopeful for me.
“No. He’s married and has six kids.”
“Six fucking kids! Damn. He made up for all those years he couldn’t get laid. That’s too child-bearing for my taste, though. It sounds like you dodged a bullet.”
“Maybe my grandparents knew what they were doing, after all,” I suggested with a grin.
“I wouldn’t go that far. I’m sure they would love to be swimming in great-grandchildren, but they’d have to let you loose to do that.”
“You act like they are holding me captive.”
“Aren’t they? Emotionally, at least?” she said, looking me directly in the eye.
“You just don’t understand. I don’t expect you to, but I don’t want to discuss it any further. Let’s change the subject.”
“You want to hear more about me sexing up hot British men then?”
“No. I think we can be done with that conversation, too,” I groaned.
I knew that Jane would never see my point of view on this. She and I had grown up in exactly the same kind of household. We were raised by families who attended our Southern Baptist churches every Wednesday evening and twice on Sundays. I had towed the line, only rarely ever dipping my toes in potentially dangerous waters. Jane had rebelled. She snuck out at night to meet boys or lied about where she was to go to parties.
As we’d grown older, my grandparents had grown wary of me spending time with her. By the time we were juniors in high school, I was forbidden to see her outside of school. The handful of times I had gotten in hot water with my grandparents were when I had disobeyed them to spend time with her. It had been my belief that I wouldn’t be caught, but we always seemed to run into someone from our church who would then mention seeing us and I’d end up grounded.
Unlike Selena, who didn’t seem to care if her parents were angry with her or what punishments they doled out, I cared how my grandparents felt. Perhaps it was because they were all I had and my fear of becoming my mother. She had disobeyed them, and she ended up pregnant, giving birth to a child she didn’t want and then running away completely, leaving me in the care of her parents. With no idea who had fathered me or if my mother would return, they had simply raised me. They might have been strict, but they were just trying to protect me from repeating the mistakes my mother had made.
“Look, I don’t mean to bust your chops. I just worry that you aren’t doing what makes you happy. Your whole life has revolved around you tiptoeing around your grandparents. At some point, you have to stop being that scared little girl they created and become a woman in your own right. You want to be a virgin forever? So be it. You can become a nun if that suits you. I just want you to get out of that house and live whatever life is suited to you—not just the one your grandparents expect from you.”
“I appreciate that, Jane. I know you love me and are just trying to watch out for me, but I am happy. I don’t expect you to understand. You are more daring. I admire that you just grab life by the horns. We just don’t think about things the same way.”
“Okay. Fair enough. I’ll lay off about it,” she said.
“Thank you,” I told her, relieved to have the discussion over and done with.
“Did I tell you that I’m moving?”
“Moving? To where?” I asked, feeling alarmed that she might not be around soon.
“Not far. I’ve had my eye on that old Victorian over on Sands Hill Lane and they accepted my offer.”
“Wow. That’s huge!” I gasped, feeling a mixture of relief and just a bit of envy.
“It’s going to be a lot of work. It’s really run down. When the Mancombs died, it just sat derelict for years. I know a guy who owns a contracting business, and he looked through it with me. He says it doesn’t have any serious defaults other than the plumbing and electric will need to be upgraded.”
“That still sounds like a lot of work and money,” I observed.
“It is, but I got it for a really low ball offer and I’m going to move in as soon as the electric and plumbing are done. My rental agreement ends next month, so I’m not going to renew it. I can live in my rough looking new house and work on it during my spare time.”
“You sound really excited about it though,” I told her.
“I am. You’re welcome to come over and help,” she laughed.
“You know I will,” I replied.
“Perhaps you can even stay over sometimes and have a breather from the old folks home,” she teased.
I smiled at her and raised my bottle of sparkling water to toast her wine glass. “Here’s to us, besties till the end.”
“Always,” she said, tapping her glass against my bottle.
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