Forbidden: Rivalry

Thank you for all the feedback on my stories. I appreciate it. Your kind words have eased my nervousness about posting on a public forum like this. A few people have asked about my posting schedule. I intend to finish 'The Warrior's Reluctant Bride' and a number of other stories I have in the works, but I have a family, I work full time, I'm in grad school, and I coach two sports teams. Writing is only a hobby, so I'll continue to post whenever I have time.

*Trigger warning for themes of mental and physical abuse* This stand alone continuation of the Forbidden Series was inspired by: Put it all on me by Ella Mai and Ed Sheeran.

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Impatient thumbs tapped the leather wrapped steering wheel as Colton watched his little sister approach his SUV. Tugging the door open, Heather slid into his passenger seat, a scowl on her face as she pushed her long blonde side bang out of her eyes. "Mother's still delightful as always," she murmured, making her imposing brother snort.

"Oh yeah, that woman's a peach," he agreed, pulling away from the curb of the ritzy hotel. "What did she want?"

Heather frowned, glancing at her brother apprehensively, unsure if telling him the truth was wise. "She -- uh, wanted to discuss my future," she murmured, studying the way Colton's hands tightened on the steering wheel.

"Hmh," Colton grunted in acknowledgement, the fact she couldn't share that he was her future, eating at him. He couldn't wait to get back into their end of the city, where no one knew they were half-siblings, so he could hold her hand and kiss her in public without fear of being recognized. "You tell her how well you're doing in school?"

"I did," Heather admitted, minimizing the prestige of her law scholarship and her rather impressive GPA. Despite the upheaval the last few years had brought, between leaving her abusive father and beginning an incestuous relationship with her older brother she'd done well for herself.

Colton eyed his sister out of the corner of his eye as he drove, concerned by the way she continued to smooth the hem of her dress and the angle of her legs as she corrected her posture in her seat. "What aren't you telling me, Sunshine?" he prodded.

"She's arranged a summer internship for me," Heather admitted, nibbling her lower lip.

"I see, a once in a lifetime opportunity I'm sure," he stated emotionlessly, "what will it cost you?" he asked, intimately familiar with the transactional relationships his parents operated under.

"A private dinner, with her, Dad, and the law firm's representatives," she replied, still skirting the information she knew would set Colton aflame.

"Harrison and Cartwright?" Colton guessed his father's favourite corporate law firm as he pulled them onto the highway, heading towards home.

Closing her eyes, preparing herself for what she was sure would be a fight, Heather whispered, "Elliott and Remmingford." She held her breath as silence stretched between them, the SUV feeling suffocating the longer Colton remained silent. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, turning white as his broad brow creased and dipped in barely restrained fury.

"The internship is with them?" he asked, the casualness of his tone a poor cover for the anger simmering inside him.

"Yes."

"You told her no?"

"I told her I'd think about it," she murmured.

"You know this is Jarod's doing," he snapped, the tethers of his careful control loosening.

"I'm not stupid," Heather replied softly, trying to put herself first for once.

The rest of the drive was tense silence as Colton brooded and Heather rehearsed her defence in her head for the confrontation she knew was coming when they got home.

~ ~ ~

Colton slammed the driver's door closed and followed Heather into their small bungalow, practically on her heels. Years of considering public optics so ingrained in the two of them, that the ticking boom didn't go off until the door was firmly closed behind him.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Colton bellowed, toeing off his work boots so he could follow his sister as she unzipped her tea dress, making her way to their modest bedroom.

"Calm down Colt, do the breathing exercise your Sensei taught you," she reprimanded, tugging her dress off her curvy body, ditching the perfect façade of 1950s elegance.

"You are not doing this!" Colton raged, ignoring her request, his body tense for a fight, his fists balled at his sides.

Hanging her dress in the closet, Heather reached for an elastic off her nightstand, twisting her perfectly coiffed hair up into a messy bun, needing something to do with her hands in the face of her brother's fury.

"I know this is very upsetting for you, as this must be triggering for both your anger issues and your possessive tendencies, but those are yours to work through, and this is not your decision to make. It's mine." She tried to explain, placing her hands on her hips, doing her best to appear assertive despite the fact she wanted desperately to cow to him.

"HE WANTS TO FUCK YOU!" Colton roared, appalled that she would even consider doing something so stupid.

"It'll look good on a resume when I graduate," she reasoned, sitting down on the bed to unroll her stockings.

Colton felt his fury bubbling inside him. He wanted to put his fist through a fucking wall. Heather humoured her mother a few times year, attending events at her behest, and every time she went, fucking Jarod Remmingford made passes at her. As if the man had completely forgotten the way Colton had almost killed him when they were twenty-one for touching her.

"You don't really believe your mother gives a fuck about your success, do you?" he spat, "She's just drunk on the idea of what having a Remmingford for a son-in-law would do for her social status."

Inhaling sharply, Heather set her jaw, her nostrils flaring as she shoved her stockings in her top dresser drawer. "You're a real jerk sometimes, you know that?" she snapped, turning to face her furious brother in her bra and panties. "I know very well what my mother's motivations are, I am also well aware of what Jarod wants, he's made his desire for me unwaveringly clear over the years. Neither of these things change the fact that working for Elliott and Remmingford would be the equivalent of a golden ticket to an entry position at any other law firm I might apply to when I pass the bar."

Colton's brow twitched as he registered her words, "I thought you came to live with me so you wouldn't have to pretend anymore," he spat bitterly, his nails biting into the palms of his hands. "What happened to getting by on merit, instead of money, and Dad's fuckin' last name?"

The crack of flesh meeting flesh filled the room as Colton's head snapped to the side. "You're an ass," Heather whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

Furious, the skin of his cheek smarting, Colton's arms flew out, one wrapping around her waist as the other hand cradled the back of her head. He walked her backwards, pinning her to the wall as he leaned in to devour her the way his anger was eating his rationality.

Silent tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as Heather fisted her hands in her brother's t-shirt, her mouth giving way to his insistent tongue as she submitted to him. She groaned as his strong hand left her waist and slipped between her legs, his fingers rougher than usual, conveying his fury with her. Heather had learned long ago that Colton's dark nature dominated his reason, his physicality burning brighter than his logic when enraged.

Relinquishing her mouth, Colton pressed feverish open-mouthed kisses the length of her bared neck, nipping her skin lightly as he shoved her panties out of the way and pressed a thick finger in her heat, making her groan. "Colt-"

He silenced her, clamping his free hand over her mouth as he fingered her, making her squirm against the wall as he nibbled at her throat, his breathing ragged. Taking hold of her panties, he sent them flying to her ankles before hooking her thigh over his hip.

Pulling her off the wall, he lifted her in his arms, allowing both of them to tumble onto the bed. Reaching down between them, on his knees, he made short work of his zipper, pushing his pants down, not bothering to take them off as he freed himself.

"Colton, baby, plea-" again he silenced her, his lips hungry against hers and he pulled her into his embrace, and plunged his pulsing cock into her dripping pussy, making her groan gutturally into his mouth. Burying his face in her throat, Colton bucked against her, giving himself over to his anger as he pounded her, her breathing sharp gasps as he claimed her body, a firm hand on her throat and jaw, holding her mouth closed.

Heather gripped the material of his t-shirt at his shoulders as she held on for dear life, her bra strap slipping lower down her arm with every thrust that forced her higher up the bed. Fuck it felt good. Closing her eyes, she gave herself over to the consuming wave of her brother's ferocity, her cunt clenching, baring down on him, trying to convince him with her body she wasn't rejecting him, his protection, their relationship. Sliding her hands into his shaggy black hair, Heather gripped fistfuls, tugging his face up to hers so she could kiss him, even as his hand loosened on her neck.

Colton stilled as his orgasm ripped through him, filling her willing, welcoming pussy with his hot seed as she spasmed below him. Turning his face away from her, he rested his head in the curve of her neck, breathing in her lavender perfume, strands of her hair that had come loose tickling his face. "Colt? You okay now?" she whispered.

He nodded, deeply ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry," he murmured, recovering his strength as he pushed himself up on his palms and back onto his knees, withdrawing from the sticky mess he'd made between her legs.

"It's okay, I'm used to it," she murmured, lying prone on the bed as he tucked his cock back into his pants and pulled up his zipper.

"Me taking you in anger, isn't something you should be used to," he replied bitterly, annoyed with himself. It had been months since he'd relapsed like that. He'd been listening to podcast meditations the last few months, trying to get a handle on his anger.

Heather shrugged, pushing herself to her feet, "I love you Colton, aggression issues and all," she reassured, patting his chest lovingly, "doesn't change the fact I'm still considering the internship, and that what you said is bullshit. Taking advantage of an opportunity is not the same as crawling back to Dad." Heather added, moving out of the room to wash between her legs as Colt warred with himself not to toss her jewelry box across the room as he counted to ten mentally.

"Heather, please, see reason," he argued, following her into the bathroom as she stripped out of her bra and turned on the shower.

Her brow arched at the use of her name; it was very rare for him not to call her 'Sunshine'. "And what would that be? Passing up an opportunity to kickstart my career because you don't want another man paying me compliments all day?" she asked impatiently, her brother's behaviour reminding her of a petulant child despite how mature she knew he could be.

The sound of the side of Colton's fist rattling off the bathroom door drew her attention as he stood sternly in the doorway, his forearm leaning against the door above his head, his fist balled. His powerful body as tense as it had been before their sex, his lips a grim line. "Jarod is dangerous, Heather."

"More dangerous than my big brother?" she teased, not taking Colton seriously for an instant. Watching Jarod almost piss himself as a younger man had cured her of any apprehension she may have had for his advances.

"I'm not proud of that Heather," he reminded her, still ashamed of having forearm choked Jarod for touching her when they'd been kids.

Towelling herself off, Heather sighed. "It's a professional setting Colt, besides, I'd be working for his father. I'll only see Jarod occasionally around the office. Can you please just support me in this? It's one dinner with Dad, and four months of Jarod. That's it."

Closing the distance between them in two powerful strides, Colton wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a fierce hug. "I will... try... to be supportive... of whatever you decide," he bit out between grit teeth.

"Was that so hard?" Heather asked, beaming up at him.

"Yes," Colton mumbled, his eyes firmly focused on a spot in the corner of the ceiling.

~ ~ ~

Colton scratched at his forehead with the back of his thumb in irritation, his other thumb firmly lodged against the spine of his book as his eyes scanned the page a second time. 'Anger, if not restrained, is frequently more hurtful to us than the injury that provokes it.'

Making a disgruntled noise, Colton closed the book and tossed it onto the coffee table in front of him before tilting his head back on the couch, his hands resting limply on his thighs as he stared up at the ceiling.

How often did Heather bare the brunt of his anger when she wasn't the source of it? Why did she carry all his worries and calm him when he was going through shit? Was he there for her in the same capacity or did he just hurt her? Sighing, he frowned, unsure he wasn't more like his father than he'd like to admit. Was she attracted to him because he was what she was used to, and grew up wanting, or because he was really the best man for her?

Growling at the realization he may be falling short in the compassion department towards his love, Colton covered his face with his palms in frustration. He needed to put her feelings before his on this. Be supportive, show her she could count on him, that she could voice and put her worries on him. Be whatever the fuck she needed him to be in the moment, his petty domineering feelings be damned.

He prided himself on being mentally and physically powerful, but could he even call himself 'strong' or 'tough' if he couldn't carry a little discomfort every now and then for her benefit? Was he mistaking being a bully with strength and leadership on this one? Was her spine stronger than his? Was he in the wrong as her lover and partner even when he KNEW this was a terrible fucking idea?

Fuck, self-reflection was draining, he thought, suddenly exhausted.

"De Ira, eh?" Heather commented, eyeing the book as she passed the table to gather her purse from his reading chair, intent on finding her lipstick. "I thought you said Seneca was for weak willed people who want an excuse for having no real-life ambition. Predetermination is the antithesis of free will, and dismissive of the role grit and determination play in success and all that," she quoted, arching a brow in amusement as Colton stared at her from the couch.

"How do you even remember that paper? You were, what, thirteen?" Colton challenged, trying to change the subject.

Chuckling as she opened her compact, Heather nodded, "I loved listening to your righteous indignation with a variety of philosophers. I don't think Mr. Harting knew what hit him," she teased, thinking fondly of their elderly private philosophy tutor.

"Yeah well, upon reflection, maybe Lucious had a decent point or two I overlooked in my youth," he muttered, watching as Heather painted her mouth an eye-catching plum red.

Grinning, Heather snapped her compact closed, returning both to her purse, "well reflection is good, but 'only look back to see how far you've come', brother," she reminded him sagely.

"Lao Tzu?" Colton guessed curiously.

"Winnie the Pooh actually," Heather teased; laughing when Colton rolled his eyes, "don't take yourself so seriously, now come help zip me up," she instructed, turning for their bedroom.

Following his sister, thinking her undergarments far too sexy for a dinner with their parents, he kept his mouth shut as she slipped into a simple black dress with a sweetheart neckline that's hem reached her mid thigh. Reaching for her tailbone, he pressed an apologetic kiss to her bare shoulder as he zipped her in. "I love you; I know you can handle everyone at the table tonight. I'm sorry I've been giving you a hard time," he voiced, swallowing his pride.

"Thank you," Heather accepted his apology graciously as she grinned at him over her shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm not exactly looking forward to this evening," she added, her smile faltering. "I haven't spoken to Dad beyond a 'hello' since the night he broke my violin."

Colton wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, encouraging her to rest her head on his shoulder as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Sunshine, I have never met anyone as adept as you at pretending nothing is wrong. I highly doubt Dad will do anything to confront you in front of his guests. It'd be bad for his image."

Nodding sadly, Heather laced her fingers with his, "I know you're worried. I'll leave first, so they don't get me alone."

Colton's fingers tightened along with his shoulder blades. His jaw clenched as he held back yet another objection. The notion of sending her into the wolf den alone was hard for him to bare. Instead, he kissed her forehead again and wished her luck.

~ ~ ~

"You look beautiful darling," Natasha Brobyn murmured as her daughter stepped into her parlor.

"Thank you, mother," Heather replied demurely, tucking the skirt of her dress as she took a seat beside her on the settee. "Good evening, gentlemen," she added, nodding at her father, both Remmingfords and James Elliott.

Natasha sipped her tea, watching the way in which her daughter smoothed the hem of her dress and then poured herself a cup of tea under the disapproving eye of her father. "Jarod was just regaling us with his most recent victory in court," Natasha supplied.

"Congratulations on your win, Mr. Remmingford," Heather replied politely, with a small smile, meeting the man's eye.

"Please Heather, no need for formalities, Jarod is just fine, save it for my Dad," Jarod teased, flashing her a winning smile and a small wink. Natasha's lips curled slightly, recognizing the interest in the young man's gaze.

Grinning at him warmly, Heather nodded, "very well, it's nice to see you again Jarod," shifting her gaze to his right, Heather turned her attention on his father and his business partner. "Mr. Elliott and Mr. Remmingford, I'd just like to thank you so much for this opportunity. When my mother informed me you were considering my resume for your internship position, I was elated by my good fortune."

James smiled widely, reaching for his wine on the table between them. "The pleasure is ours Heather, as expected from a Brobyn, you're quite accomplished. We look forward to having you at the firm."

Snorting softly, Richard Brobyn brought his scotch to his lips, glaring at his daughter over the crystal rim of his cup. "I'm sure it will be a positive arrangement for everyone. I think you'll find that Heather is a quick study and is normally very good at following instruction."

Heather winced at the barb, her fingers tightening on the handle of her teacup for half a second. Remembering the first and only night she'd disobeyed him. "Of course," she forced a light laugh, trying to ignore the intrigued look on Jarod's face at her father's words.

"You've been quiet Frank, what do you think about Heather joining the firm," Richard prompted, meeting the older Remmingford's gaze.

Frank smiled, clapping his hand on his son's shoulder. "Jarod assures me she's always been an exceptional young woman." He replied before turning his eyes to Heather, "If everything Jarod says about you is true, I'm sure you'll be a good fit."

Biting her tongue, Heather held her smile, acknowledging silently that Colton had been right. Of course, this was Jarod's doing. "I suppose I must thank you for singing my praises," Heather teased affectionately, tilting her head slightly in Jarod's direction.