Discreet Desires – Forbidden Fruit Read Online M.K. Moore

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Forbidden, Taboo Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13644 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 68(@200wpm)___ 55(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)

Jackson Prince
I wasn't prepared for her. I should have been, but my princess took me by surprise. With one look at her, with the dark circles under her eyes and the overall gaunt appearance, I knew she needed me. Taking her body was selfish, but it tied her to me in all ways. I take the world's weight off her shoulders and help carry her burdens. I'll do whatever it takes to take care of her and make her mine.

Jeniveve Palmer
I gave him my body as payment for his help. He took it again and again. It should have been a fucked up business arraignment, but instead, he calls me princess and treats me like one, not like the whore I made myself. He saved my brothers, and for that, I'll let him do whatever he wants to me. He does all the dark, depraved things I secretly craved. How did he know? He made me fall in love with him, but I know I shouldn't get used to this. It's going to kill me when he tires of me, but I'm his for as long as he'll have me.

This is a taboo foster dad/daughter novella. It's a safe, over-the-top story with deeds done in the dark that will make you blush, maybe more. This is what happens when love and duty cross the line into the forbidden.

Join six authors on a journey of desire, temptation, taboo love, and the finality of giving in. Forbidden Fruit has never tasted sweeter. Coming May 2023. Amazon and KU.

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Jackson Prince

December 25th, 1994

My ninth birthday came and went a month ago without being noticed by my parents. Christmas wasn’t acknowledged either. I don’t even think they knew it was Christmas, not that I expected them to. I should be having fun, but all I can think about is going back to school, because at least at school, I’ll get to eat something. It could be worse; I think as I grab another torn and tattered blanket from the couch and a book from the pile I brought home from the library. Being in Florida, it’s chilly in December, but at least it’s not freezing. We don’t have a pot to piss in, or so my dad says. We live in an old tin trailer, the kind that should hook up to a car for traveling, in a trailer park in Thonotosassa, near Tampa, but this is rural out here. We don’t have a TV, my parents sold it for drugs a while ago, that’s why I have the books. Getting lost in a book makes me forget just how hungry I am. I lock myself in my room because my parents are having one of their parties. I’m not invited and I’m glad. I’ve seen a lot in my life and my parents having a pill party isn’t new, sadly. ZZ Top is playing loudly, I try to ignore it, but it's shaking the trailer, so it’s hard to. The song changes over and I hear screaming and gunshots. This is Florida, of course I know what gunshots sound like—just like that. The rapid pop, pop, pops stop and the door of the trailer slams. I don’t know why I do it, but I rip open my bedroom door and run out into the living room. There is blood and bodies everywhere. I find my dad first. He's sitting in his easy chair, eyes open, blood pooled on his chest. He’s gone. I can tell. I step over their friends, all dead until I reach my mom. She’s at the kitchen table, gasping for breath. She’s surprisingly calm though. I, on the other hand, am freaking out.

“Jacks? Is that you?” Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I’ve got to save her.

“Don’t try to talk, Mama. I’ll get some help,” I say, trying to move away from her. She snakes her hand out and grabs mine. I’ll never forget the blood that she put on my skin.

“It’s too late for help. You’ve got to get out of here. Make something of yourself. Don’t be like you dad and me. Be better. Do better. I’m sorry we weren’t, but this is your chance, take it. Don’t mourn us and don’t try to figure this out. Sometimes we do bad things, and you have to pay the price. Your dad and I… we did bad things. Things I don’t want you to know about. Promise me you won’t try to find out what we did. It was real bad, Jackson. We had to pay. We knew it, but we thought we had time to get away. You’re going to be fine now. The state will take care of you. Don’t think I couldn’t hear your belly beg for food. I just had nothing to give you. The pull of euphoria was greater than any maternal instinct I once had. I love you, Jackson. You… be… okay… now… promise… me…” she says the last sentence so slowly, I can hear blood rattling in her throat or her chest, I’m not sure which. Then nothing. Nothing but Nirvana fills the room and my sobs. I know that this night will haunt me forever. Nothing can ever haunt me more than seeing my father dead or the light go out of my mom’s eyes. Then it hits me. Really hits me.

My parents are dead and I’m all alone.

Nothing will ever be the same again.

Nine Years Later

I think about the night my parents died more and more now. I may not have had the best parents in the world, but they were mine. I may have been hungry and neglected most of the time, but I never doubted they loved me. They just loved drugs more. Now that I’m older, I know how addicting drugs and alcohol can be. I vowed a long time ago; I’d never touch the stuff. It’s not worth the risk. I’ve bounced around from home to home for the last nine years in foster care. No one wanted the slightly damaged boy I’ve become after seeing the carnage I saw. I heard bits and pieces from the police that night, but it wasn’t enough. A nosy neighbor called them when they heard the gunshots and screaming, but no one came for three hours. I know. I watched the clock as I held my dead mother’s hand. I was determined to find out what happened to my parents and why, but this isn’t a Batman origin story. The last nine years haven't been sunshine and roses. Despite never being hungry again, I did find myself getting my ass beat a lot by foster parents I was just a paycheck to. The one time I thought I got a good home; it was taken away just as quickly. Madge was her name. She was in her seventies, and she baked every day for the two months I was there. Then she up and died. I found her like that after school. If I never see another dead body, it’ll be too soon.