Summary: Jammy one-shot He hurt me and he used me. I shouldn't feel this way. But I do.

Notes: This fic is set a few months back. I don't know why, but I just love the more angsty time of the Jammy relationship; it's just what makes them who they are. Am I the only one that feels this way?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The song "Forbidden Love" belongs to Madonna.

--Forbidden Love--

I have been in the barn for almost an hour. Sitting, pacing, remembering, thinking.

I don't understand this.

How could I do it? How could I do this to myself? How could I fall for my cousin of all people? The very same man who used me and hurt me. Badly.

I shouldn't feel this way.

I should hate him. No, I should do more than hate him; I should despise the very site or mention of him.

But I don't.

I do avoid seeing him, but not because of any form of loathing; unless it's self-loathing because I know that I shouldn't feel what I feel every single time I so much as think of him, or hear his name spoken.

All he has to do is enter a room, and I can't think straight. I want him so much that I am physically aching inside.

I fight it. I fight with every single thing in me.

But he always wins.

Because I can't help myself.

Even when I first found out what he was, I wanted him.

Oh, I convinced myself that I didn't. I convinced myself that I wanted to kill him. And some part of me really did. But even during that time; even when I was reeling from the pain that he had caused me, I still wanted him.

But it gets worse. Much worse. If I only wanted him, I think I could deal with this. If I only wanted him, I could push it away, and it would disappear. But I feel a heck of a whole lot more than physical desire.

I think I love him.

No, scratch that. I know I love him.

Oh, dear god. It hurts so much just to admit it to myself.

I don't know what I am going to do. He is my cousin, for crying out loud! Well, half cousin, if you want to get technical, and we didn't even meet until less than a year ago... Why am I defending this!

It is wrong. So wrong.

But when I am around him, I forget that. I forget that it's wrong. I forget that I have a nice boyfriend that goes by the name of Sandy Foster.

When I see him, I simply feel like a woman, longing for the touch of one man. And he's that man.

And the times that we're alone? No, it's not even just when we're alone. It's any time I am close to him. God, I might as well just get a tattoo on my forhead that says "KISS ME" in bright red letters.

Only he seems to be able to see what I am really feeling, though. I have yet to determine if it's a blessing or a curse. Sometimes, I think it's one, sometimes the other.

I think it must be both.

A blessing because I don't want anyone else to know.

But a curse because I would give everything for him to not know how much I feel for him.


I know I shouldn't feel this way. I know it. At times, I have repeated it over and over to myself, like a mantra.

But it doesn't help. Nothing does. I've tried to think about it logically, tried to tell myself that he's wrong for me, and not to mention dangerous. And it will work for a while. A couple of days, if I'm lucky.

But then he smiles. He smiles, and he's JB again. The man I first knew when he came to town.

And I loved that man. Or at least I thought I did.

But now, I don't think I did. I did feel something. A pull, like some indeterminate being pushing the two of us together. Not to mention the intense attraction. But not love. That came later. Later, after he stole my virginity to get back at Reva. Later, after I spent so many hours crying over what he had done to me.

Later, when I was supposed to feel nothing but hatred for him.

And even when he doesn't smile; even when we are having our worst fights, I feel this love. This insane sensation that threatens to overtake me.

When he is yelling at me, all I want to do is shut him up by pressing my mouth against his; my body against his, and let him do whatever he wants with me.

That's the lusty part of my love.

The other part wants to help him when he's mad, and hold him when he's sad. Like that time when we were in the parking garage, and we saw that man abusing his son.

After it was over, we just stood there, holding each other. Each felt the other's pain, and no words were necessary.

It's like I'm in a different world when I'm alone with him. A world where there is just the two of us.

But you see, that's the thing. I don't want it to be just the two of us. I don't want to feel this way! If I could do anything to make it go away, I would. I hate it!

I hate that he makes me so weak. I hate that I catch myself dreaming about him; thinking about him.

I hate that he can make me feel more with one glance, than Sandy can with ten kisses.

And that's another thing. When I am kissing Sandy, I enjoy it up to a certain point. And then I stop it. I stop because I don't want him to go any farther. It just feels...wrong.

But when I'm kissing Jonathan? I am to that point and beyond before I even realize it. He makes me feel so much, that at times, I think that I'm going to explode with it. And then I stop it.

But it's not because it feels wrong. It's because it feels so damn right when I know that it is wrong.

And that scares me.

At times, I allow myself to think about it. To think about what it might be like if I said to hell with the consequences, and admitted what I feel to Jonathan.

I know that's what he wants.

Because he loves me too. I see it in his eyes. I probably recognize it because I see it in my own every time I look in a mirror.

But then I stop. It hurts too much when I come back to reality.

The reality that we are cousins.

The reality that I am in a serious relationship with another man.

The reality that we are forbidden to be together.

"Tammy?"

I would know that voice anywhere, even though I can't see him.

'Be strong, Tammy.' I told myself. 'You can get through this. You just have to get him to leave as fast as possible.'

"What are you doing here?" He asked when I finally turned around.

"This is my mother's property. I believe the correct question would be what are you doing here?" My voice was so cold and hard, I almost winced.

"Oooh, it's got fangs!" He exclaimed playfully, not fased a bit by my ice queen act.

I narrowed my eyes. "You didn't answer my question."

"You think you might be able to ask again? I forgot." He just loved driving me crazy. I could see it in his eyes.

"You heard me."

"Oh, yeah! What am I doing here?" He paused, grinning. "I was following you."

My jaw dropped. "What are you-!" I was cut off by his hand covering my mouth.

An instant later, I stepped back from him, and wiped my hand across my mouth, as if he disgusted me. But he didn't. The act had aroused some very strong feelings, but not one of them was disgust.

"I was kidding, Tammy."

I blinked.

"Oh." I couldn't seem to think of anything else to say.

I still felt like he was too close, so I took another step back.

"Why do you do that?" His grin had dropped, and was no longer in a teasing mood.

"What?" Yet another brilliant response from Tammy Winslow.

"Back away from me. Act like you don't want me."

"Because I don't want you!"

"Bull shit! Then what do you call this?" He pulled me roughly toward him, but instead of kissing me roughly like I expected, it was surprisingly gentle.

After holding back for a whole two seconds, I responded. I kissed him back like he was the only man in the world who could make me feel the way I felt.

Because he was.

But we weren't supposed to be doing this.

I pushed away, still breathing hard. "We can't do this."

"Why not?" He leaned towards me and I took another step back.

"Don't do that again!" I shouted.

"Why not? You want me to."

I squeezed my eyes shut, concentrating on simply breathing in and out. Trying as hard as I could, not to pull his lips back down to mine.

"Admit it. No one, not even Sandy, can make you feel the way you feel when you're with me."

"No! I love Sandy." I grabbed onto that one familiar excuse.

"Dammit, Tammy, don't lie to me!" He shouted, slapping the wooden pole for emphasis.

I just stood there, my back stiff, avoiding eye contact.

"It's not a lie."

His voice was ominously quiet when he answered.

"Then look me in the eye when you say it, and I will believe you."

"Why should that matter?" I scoffed, hoping that he would let me off.

"You know why." He said, looking deeply into my eyes.

Slowly, but surely, I felt everything else slipping away.

I made one last valiant effort, though.

I opened my mouth.

But the words stuck. Just like he, and I, knew that they would.

"Exactly." Then he lowered his head and kissed me.

And I kissed him back.

I couldn't help it. I had already broken one kiss, and dodged another. I didn't have the self-control to do it again.

The next thing I knew, I was hugging his neck as if I was hanging on for dear life, and we were kissing frantically.

His mouth left mine to trail kisses down my neck, and I moaned. Without thinking, I whispered "I love you, Jonathan."

Then I froze.

As did he.

He drew back, looking deep into my eyes, boring straight into my soul like only he could.

"What did you say?"

He was giving me the chance to take it back. I felt my eyes filling with tears, though I tried to blink them away.

I closed my eyes, took a huge breath and blew it out. I knew what I had to do. I had already admitted it; I couldn't pretend that I hadn't.

Determined, I stared him right back in the eye.

"I said, "I love you.'"

He smiled. "I knew you'd come around."

And he kissed me again.

"Wanna know a secret?" He asked between kisses.

"Sure."

He moved his head over to my ear, whispering.

"I love you too."

No, I was not kidding myself that it was going to be all flowers and sunshine because we had declared our love. I'm not that naive.

After all, we still had a heck of a lot of issues to deal with. My family, what people would say, the list goes on.

But that was okay, because right then, we finally had each other.

And that was not going to change.

end