Page 27 of Forbidden Vows

“I can make both happen for you. That’s up to you. But you’re definitely leaving here with me tonight.” He chuckles, hooking his fingers in my waistband. “Let’s get these panties off and change your mind.”

The idea of having my bare ass exposed to him, and in this place where a door could open at any moment has my full body clenching. “No. Blaze. You leave those right where they are.”

But he’s already pulling them down, tucking them around the tops of my thighs. The gesture is so humiliating it makes me moan, low and long. “What are you doing!”

“I’m spanking this beautiful bottom of yours till you agree to my demands.” His hand comes down on my bare skin, a smarting spank blooming over my ass. It feels good. Nice and stingy, the feeling somehow traveling straight to my pussy. “Say yes, and I’ll slip my fingers into your panties and make you come.”

He’s playing oh so dirty, using my desire against me. I hate myself for being so weak. At least I can do one thing to stand up for myself.

“If I say yes, I have one demand,” I say. “And it’s not negotiable.”

Chapter Seven

Blaze

I accept the cut crystal glass from the flight attendant and take a deep sip of the oaky, twenty-three-year-old family reserve bourbon with the four-thousand-dollar price tag.

We’re finally thirty thousand feet above Earth, headed to our lavish Italian estate we call home. The moment the landing gear hits the tarmac, I’ll be drawn into emergency meetings. I’ll face the first significant threat to the family in decades, so for now, I savor the liquor and the peaceful ride.

Ma and Falcon had no issues with the trip. They’re using the opportunity as their second honeymoon. I hope they make it this time. I glance behind me to find the lovebirds smiling at one another as they clink champagne glasses. They look happy.

Leaving the Bronx on a private jet reminds me of how much my life has changed since Haze entered it. Growing up in government housing, I wore second-hand clotheswhile everyone else wore Air Jordans, unaware that I wasn't quite succeeding in this world. Even as a child, I put on a bravado, flash a cocky grin, and crack a joke.

Unfortunately, no matter how much money is in my bank account, I have learned that you can’t completely overcome the feeling of not being good enough.

That was a bummer.

Haze knows how I feel. We’ve talked about it over beers. He may only be my half-brother by blood, but our bond is nothing less than family. You know how, sometimes in life, you can look back at one particular moment when everything changed? That was how it was for me the day Haze came into my life.

I was raised as an only child by a single mom. While it was enjoyable for a brief time to have Falcon as a stepfather and Cleo as my stepsister, my feelings for her were never platonic or brotherly.

I was alone in the world, except for Ma, and God bless her patient heart; a boy needs to be around a man who can relate to him. It wasn’t until the day I came home in my early twenties to find a full-grown version of myself standing in the living room, having a conversation with Ma, that I began to come into my own.

I still remember the moment I laid eyes on him, how my breath whooshed out of my lungs as if I were looking into a mirror that reflected the future. The moment felt surreal. I played it cool, appearing disinterested.

He appeared overwhelmed. He made his excuses and left.

When we were alone, I bombarded Ma with questions until she admitted that the man who looked like me was my half-brother. He left home young, before Ma got pregnant by my deadbeat sperm donor, so before I came along.

The next day, Haze called me, apologized, and came by. We’ve been inseparable ever since. He introduced me to his family, the Bachmans. I learned their customs and eventually chose to join them. Since that day, I’ve done my best to be worthy of the Bachman name bestowed upon me.

There is one way I differ from my new family: returning to the city brings out the Bronx in me. You must have swagger to succeed in our world, and that swagger attracts women. Sure, the single Bachman brothers like me date and have their fun, but it’s well known that the family expects you to settle down with one woman eventually, with sooner always preferable to later.

Like Haze and his wife Ophelia; the two were truly made for each other.

It’s a long, twisted story that still makes me chuckle and lets me rib Haze about his choices. Despite how their relationship began, Haze and Ophelia are perfect for one another.

When Cleopatra walked into the church at Haze’s wedding, I felt a strange pang in my chest. I hadn’t seen her in years; our parents were divorced. She was little Cleo from Queens, but now fully grown. She stole my breath while making my pulse race. It was another moment of life-changing epiphany.

I knew I would never want any other woman the way I wanted her.

And I’ll never have her.

I still dream about that day, her coming to sit beside me in the pew, wearing a white dress. Her horrified, adorable look when I told her you aren’t supposed to wear white to a wedding. She felt as guilty as if she’d committed a crime.

I sneak a glance at Cleo as she sits beside me.

She stares out the window of the jet, lost in thought. When we boarded the plane, sheoh-ed andah-ed over the opulence. The moment she settled into her seat, she fell silent. Processing. She’s in one of those introverted moods where she prefers not to be disturbed.

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