by Mara White
Publication Date: July 22, 2017
Genres: Contemporary, Taboo, Romance
Whatever force made Lucky, either God or the Universe, wrapped him so tightly around my heart that sometimes I’m suffocating.
Biologically, we are made of too many similar parts, yet our chemistry is like a meteor shower, raining bright sparks of light into the dark night.
But it’s not our biology or chemistry that worries me the most, it’s the physics of our love that goes against the cosmos.
She corners me in the stairwell as I’m escaping to the park. Backpack on her shoulder, hair pulled up in a messy bun, a pencil shoved in, barely holding it all together.
“Lucky, get this, we share anywhere from seven to almost thirteen percent identical DNA. I’m actually surprised because I thought it would be higher than that.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I say, then look over my shoulder to hide my anxiety and the automatic smile that pops up on my face whenever I hear her voice. “Why’d you think it would be more?”
“I don’t know. ’Cause siblings are fifty percent and – don’t you remember the unit? It was only last year. Double cousins are higher and –”
“Wait, hold up. What the fuck are double cousins? What are you talking about, Belén?”
I’m automatically worried she knows something. Somebody has been talking to her and she just figured it out about her mom and her uncle?
“Double cousins. Like if our moms had married siblings, but they didn’t so we’re not.”
“If they married their siblings? Who the fuck does that?”
“Not their own, like if they’d married brothers. Forget it, Lucky. You obviously don’t remember. Go hang in the park with your friends.”
My heart is thumping because I thought she was onto something. But Bey is just rambling about science class and I’m already expecting the worst that could happen from her knowing how related we are.
“Shit, Bey. You crazy. You know that?”
“I obviously got the genes for brains and you got the looks.”
She smiles at me like she’s making a joke but I don’t laugh or think it’s funny. How come she doesn’t ever see how pretty she is? She has no idea how hard I can get from just staring at her lips.
“What do you mean, Bey? You’re beautiful.”
I can’t believe I said it. Our eyes connect for a second and so much moves between us that words aren’t necessary. A flash in her eye shows fear, but there’s more emotion there than that. I get the urge to grab her, slam her up against the wall and kiss the living fuck out of her. Oh God, Len, what you do to me with a look. Eye contact and I’m gone on fantasies of what I could do to her. She’s delicate and so young and better than my dirty thoughts.
And sometimes I swear she’s the only person who really sees me. I can hide shit from everyone, my own mother included. But Bey’s got this crazy way of looking right through me. She can see the good parts and the bad parts, read my feelings like a fortune teller and recognize my bullshit from a mile away before I even try to cover it up. She can hear the truth in my lies like nobody else.
“Go study, little girl. I got stuff to do.”
My feet start to jog away down the steps with a mind of their own. I can’t stick around or I will pull her into my arms. I only want to kiss her sweet little nose—but it would lead to something bigger, I’m definitely capable of worse. I don’t know what I’d do to her if we were alone and left to our own devices. But I got an idea and it makes me get the hell out of the situation.
“Where are you going, Lucky?” she yells as she leans over the railing. I’m running away from her, I’m always fucking running away from her.
“Out, Bey! Go finish your homework.” I stop and look up at her. My heart’s pounding, I feel dizzy. I don’t need drugs with Bey around, I get a high from just talking to her. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Flushed cheeks, need in her eyes and a body that is never far from my mind.
“We’re thirteen percent the same, that leaves eighty-seven percent that we’re different,” she says and smiles down at me. Her smile is the key to unlock all that’s good in the universe. I grin back like a fool as happiness flows through me from basking in it. I’m love-drunk on Bey and stand and stare like an idiot. If anything ever happened to her, I think I’d die of loneliness. No way I couldn’t handle it. I want to protect her from corruption and at the same time, unleash my worst on her. It’s a fucked-up feeling and it’s got me tripping in circles. If I can’t have her, sure as hell I won’t ever let anyone else touch her.
“You know what, Lucky? You’re weird,” she says and opens her notebook. She tears out a piece of paper and folds it up in front of me.
“You know what, Bey?” I ask. I’m about to say something dumb. Something that will play over and over in my head and I’ll regret the moment it comes out my mouth.
“What?” she says and drops the paper; the folds give it weight and it lands at my feet.
I lean down to pick it up and I hold it in my hand. I can’t tell her how I feel. What if she’s over it? I gave her her first kiss—maybe I was a just a person she could trust, someone to practice on.
But Christ, that kiss in front of the fridge was like no other kiss. I think about it every time I see her, every time I look at her lips. I’ve kissed a whole hell of a lot of chicks and never felt anything like it. A shot of heroin straight to my heart and a bolt of lightning to my dick.
Maybe she’s moved on to other guys? Even the thought makes me want to punch something, or better yet, someone. I’d pound his fucking face in, whoever thinks he can touch Belén and dirty up her innocence. My anger and frustration are always two steps ahead of me.
“What were you going to say, Lucky?”
I shove the note in my back pocket and start walking down the stairs.
“Naw, Bey. I’m not gonna tell you. I don’t want you to get a big head.”
“Like you? Luciano, you are impossible,” she huffs, and I can hear her feet march up the stairs. I chuckle at her attitude, but at the same time my eyes are watering and I wipe them with the back of my hand. I’m such a fucking pussy. I got to get myself under control.
I unfold the note and read it, her doodling in pink pen.
“Lucky is thirteen percent of me and I am thirteen percent of him.”
Thirteen is an unlucky number, I think as I crumple the piece of paper and toss it out an open window in the stairwell.
by Mara White
Publication Date: June 22, 2015
Genres: Contemporary, Taboo, Romance
Belén: I’ve loved Luciano ever since I can remember, desired him before I even knew what it meant. He’s always been the only man in my life—my constant protector, and his rejection only intensifies my need.
Luciano: I’ve never known a love more fierce than the one I feel for Belén. But I force myself to deny her no matter how much it hurts.
Our love is a sickness and both of us are infected.
Because there’s no cure for being from the same family.
“This is so stupid. I can’t believe she’s making me do it.”
“It ain’t that bad. This neighborhood is fucked up, you might need to use it. Nice sweat suit,” I say, unable to hide my amusement.
“Don’t make fun of me,” she says, moving her hands across her chest.
“This is good. Stay like that,” I say and move around behind her. I wrap my arms around hers and squeeze her in a tight grip. She’s so small and her hair smells good enough for me to want to nuzzle my face in it.
“How’d you shake me if I had you like this?” I ask.
Belén tries to pull her arms apart and groans at the effort. She doesn’t move an inch even though she’s trying as hard as she can. I can’t help but smile at how cute she is.
“Do it to me and I’m gonna show you how to get out of it.”
Belén wraps her arms around me and I laugh at her size. She knees me in the butt and we both start to laugh at the situation. I shoulda shared the joint with her to loosen her up.
“You’re gonna bend your knees fast and twist out of it. He’s not expecting you to go down, so his grip is centered on you breaking free from the front.” I show her a couple of times. “Get it? Now you try.”
Belén slips around front and her ass brushes my groin. I fight with everything inside me to ignore it and move on. She slips through my arms easily the next couple of rounds. I’m letting her win, because it’s all I can do to keep my dick from getting hard.
“It’s hot in here,” Belén says, brushing a stray bit of hair from her cheek.
“Yeah,” I say, looking at her flushed face and thinking about how pretty she is.
I teach her the same surprise technique to roll your arms in and under when someone grabs both of your forearms. She gets that one quick and giggles at her own ability. I smile as I watch her confidence rise.
“How’s it going in here?” Tía Betty asks, coming in to observe.
“Belén’s a natural. They gonna be sorry they ever laid hands on her.”
“God forbid!” Betty says. “Well, she’s got a great teacher.” My aunt nods her head, looking at me affectionately. Her compliment makes me feel good, like I’m useful to them. Belén’s a goddamned natural at everything. Sometimes I feel like a loser in comparison.
“The last thing I’m gonna show you is how to get out from under a straddle. I know it sounds impossible, especially when you’re small, but there’s a trick to it.”
Belén looks nervous and casts her eyes to the floor. She doesn’t want me to straddle her. I don’t want to straddle her either and at the same time, alls I want to do is fucking straddle her.
“Lie down on the floor,” I tell her. She does as I ask. She looks scared stiff. I stand over her, one foot on each side of her waist. She’s playing with her fingers nervously. I kinda want to say something to get her to calm down, but at the same time her nerves are adorable. I know she’s thinking about the kiss right now, but I can’t let my head go there.
“Belén!” I say, and she looks up to my face. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
“I know,” she says, so quietly it’s almost a whisper.
I kneel over her hips and then lower my weight onto her. I grab both of her arms and lift them above her head. I put pressure on her wrists and stare into her face. Jesus Fucking Christ I want to kiss her!
“Try to throw me off,” I say. Belén struggles pathetically. She doesn’t move an inch. It’s not that she’s not trying but it’s the most vulnerable possible position to be in. I learned this in wrestling and I know you can throw someone twice your size if you use the right leverage.
I try not to feel the area where our thighs come together. I try hard not to notice the heat that radiates out from her center. I try even harder not to notice that my dick is twitching. She’s trying too, pretending that she doesn’t feel it either.
“Move your feet in, up closer to your butt,” I command. Belén’s face is flushed and her eyes tell me she’s somewhere else. But she still responds to the call of my voice. She lifts her feet and I pretend I don’t notice the roll of her hips under mine and how innocent and sweet she feels trapped underneath me.
“Now you got stronger leverage, so you’re going to thrust with your hips up and to the side; at the same time use the force of your arms together to bring your whole body up. Understand?”
She nods and our eyes catch. She doesn’t want out of this position. I don’t either. My cock starts to grow just from making eye contact with her.
“Push me off,” I say and Belén does her damnedest. She follows the directions and she does have a little bit of power. But for some asshole reason I can’t let her win this one. I stay right the fuck on top of her.
Her breath is coming fast and she thrusts again, this time rolling her hips to the right. I press in harder with mine and force her hands to the floor again. At this point I’m just fucking with her.
“I can’t do it, Lucky!” she says, still exerting fierce little Belén energy.
“One more time!” I say and she pulls her feet in closer to her butt and thrusts, lifting her pelvis up. I roll off of her still holding her wrists. She ends up on top of me, our positions reversed. But instead of getting off, she lets go of my arms and then slaps me.
“What the fuck?” I say, grabbing my face. I scramble to get her wrists and I roll this time, faster, yanking her under me. I’m back on top and she’s breathing so hard her chest is heaving. I can see her nipples through her sports bra and now my stupid cock is fully at attention.
‘Why’d you slap me, Belén?” I ask, all out of breath.
“’Cause you deserve it! You’re an attacker,” she says, and I smile a little.
“I’m gonna teach you how to really hit. You can’t go around bitch-slapping people.”
I get her up against the wall and adjust my crotch.
“Make a fist like this, Bey,” I say, holding my fist up to her face.
She mimics my fist and hers is tiny. She puts both fists up like she’s ready to box me. She is not a tough girl at all and I almost start laughing.
“Come up from underneath, just like this, toward my jaw.” I wrap my hand around her fist and guide it in an upper-cut to my face. Belén looks at me with so much trust that it guts me. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks pink, her hair messy. She chews on her lip while she traces the line in the air with her fist.
“Go ahead, hit me.”
“I don’t want to,” she says, looking frustrated.
“Yes you do!”
“I don’t want to, Lucky.”
“Fucking hit me, Bey. I need to know that you can take care of yourself!”
“No!” she says and I force her back hard. I grab her arms again and pin them to the wall. I don’t think we’re talking about hitting anymore; we’re talking about that kiss.
I want to grab her chin and force her to kiss me again with all that she’s got. I want to shove my body against her and show her just how fucking crazy she makes me.
But instead I lay my forehead against hers and the tips of our noses touch. I close my eyes and nod my head ever so lightly.
“Game over!” I say and spring back from the wall. Belén’s face goes into shock as I simultaneously abandon all of the points of contact between our bodies.
“I’m done!” I say and stride to my bedroom.
I slam the door in case they don’t understand just how fucking done I am.
About Mara White
Mara White is a contemporary romance and erotica writer who laces forbidden love stories with hard issues, such as race, gender and inequality. She holds an Ivy League degree but has also worked in more strip clubs than even she can remember. She is not a former Mexican telenovela star contrary to what the tabloids might say, but she is a former ballerina and will always remain one in her heart. She lives in NYC with her husband and two children and yes, when she’s not writing you can find her on the playground.
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