Page 215 of Forbidden Heroes

I scowl at my thoughts. There’s something obviously wrong with me. How perverted does that make me? Filthy is what I am if I’m honest. No matter how decadent and sinful the feelings are running through me. He has never touched me in the ways I dream about, but my body and mind seem to forget that little detail. As the years have gone by, I've caught him stealing glances here and there, but no more. I half think it’s my wild imagination cooking up something not even there.

Since turning fifteen all I can think about—dream about—is him. My godfather’s brother. The man society says I can’t have. He and his family saved me from a miserable life and here I am lusting after one of them. What does that say about me?

But each time I slide my naked body between my crisp cotton sheets at night, I dream; crave to feel his strong hands working me into a feverish need. His mouth devouring my screams of pleasure.

“Harper, bacon is ready! I can’t save your portion much longer!”

I grab my pillow and let out a frustrated scream. Feeling not even the slightest bit better I kick off the knotted sheets around my feet and force myself to head to the shower. Ten minutes later I twine my hair into a quick braid around the shoulder, snag a pair of shorts and tank top and slide down the stairs to find all three Urban brothers huddled up in front of the bacon platter, a mug of coffee in hand.

“Morning, y’all.”

Boone’s attention pulls to me the second I step into the kitchen and there’s not an inch of me his gaze doesn’t touch before pulling to my eyes.

Yeah, there’s no way I’m not going to react to that. My pulse thunders through me like a summer storm over the Texas landscape.

His handsome face is pulled tight with a grim expression. He’s leaned up against the counter, his long, powerful legs crossed at the ankle. His brothers, Austin and Hunter, are beside him, their backs to me. All have thick thatches of jet-black hair, but only Boone wears it long enough to run fingers through. All three are the hot bachelors of our mid-sized Texas town. Not so big you feel crowded but small enough to where everyone knows your business.

Austin, the oldest Urban brother is the first to speak up, though I can feel Boone’s gaze track my progress deeper into the kitchen.

Austin holds his arms out and I slip into them for a quick morning hug. I’ve had the same routine since I was fourteen and the Urban family took me and loved me as their own. “Morning, sweet thing. Sleep well?”

The Urban brothers had gone to school with my mom and dad—high school sweethearts who married before the ink on their high school diplomas could dry. Nine months later I was born and Austin was picked to be my godfather.

Everything was perfect until my father was caught skimming off his client’s high-rolling accounts, including the Urbans. Worse yet, my mother was in on it. Both are still serving time for their white-collar crimes with fifteen years left on the clock. It’s safe to say, without the Urbans I’d be a lost foster case. It says something about the men and their family that they would take in a girl of the family stealing from them. On top of all that it’s hard carrying the Grayson name in a town this small and up until about a year ago I couldn’t wait to get out.

I sneak a look at Boone. Maybe I have some of my mother’s underhandedness, after all, though I’ve sworn to myself I’m nothing like either of my parents. Because for the life of me I’ve tried to come up with every excuse, pull every trick and do anything in my power to stay right where I am at. Including lying about not wanting to go to college. I want to–I just don’t want to leave Boone. So, I guess I’m not so sure about anything.

I give my usual answer to Austin’s caring question, working my voice into my usual carefree bubbliness. “Sure did. Until someone screamed bacon at me. The sun is barely up, for God’s sake, people.”

A smug look comes over Hunter’s face, the youngest of the Urban crew, who mirrors Boone’s crossed leg lean against the counter. They’ve got it down to an art. First the lean, then the hooking of the ankle. When Boone does it, my eyes are always drawn to the large bulge of his jeans.

Standing side by side, Austin comes in at a couple of inches shorter and not as broad around the shoulders, but that is where the differences fork. All three have the same jawline and piercing dark eyes. Only when Boone is looking at me, I can feel the pull on my soul.

All are poured into their favorite pair of Levi’s with various styles of button-down shirts neatly tucked at the waist.

Boone’s is all black and snugly fitted around thick forearms and thicker biceps. How they wear long sleeves in the summer is beyond me. Something about sunburns. Me? I like the sun touching me everywhere.

“Figured bacon would get you goin’ faster, sleepyhead. It’s gettin’ late and we still have a ton of prep work to do for this evening.”

“You guys. I told you there’s no need for any big party.” I push them aside, careful not to touch Boone as I angle my body through the small gaps between the men to get to the bacon. Given they are all unmarried, I think they like spoiling me and none of them take no for an answer no matter what I say.

“Like we would let such a special day go unnoticed!” Austin taps me on the nose and presses a mug of coffee into my hands. “Hey, did we hear you scream a few minutes ago?”

My brain pinwheels. There’s a moment of silence as all three men stare at me.

I swallow the hard lump of shock lodged in my throat. Oh God! I instantly blush and catch Boone's eye over the rim of my mug. Why is it every time I look at him I feel like he’s reading my deepest, darkest secrets?

I throw off a nonchalant shrug, or at least hope I do. "Um, yeah I just stubbed my toe on the dresser again. I swear one day I’m going to heave it out the window." Not a total lie. I did hit my toe. But only because I tripped over my knotted sheets because of one dark-eyed man to my left.

Before I can duck my head and find some hole to crawl in, Austin twines his thick arms around me and plants a big kiss on my cheek. He’s tanned from being out in the hayfields and training horses under the springtime sunshine that contrasts his white shirt. “By the way, happy birthday!”

“You’re gettin’ old!” Hunter chimes in, stealing me away to do a quick dance around the kitchen table Beauty and the Beast style.

A few turns and Hunter swirls me to a laughing stop in front of Boone, who looks like the Grim Reaper pissed in his coffee. Black brows are pinched together and his full lips look even thinner with how he’s got them meshed together.

“Older, huh? You know what that means?” he asks gruffly, an amused look crossing his expression. I narrow my eyes slightly.

“What are you up to, Boone Urban?”

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