Forbidden
Secret affairs, taboo desires, the thrill of the forbidden
22 stories
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—and then you handed me the robe
I could still smell the chlorine and that expensive sandalwood oil on my collarbones while I watched you walk toward the elevator.
Tell Him You're Tired
I watched the way the condensation on your gin glass mirrored the fine, frantic sweat beginning to break across your collarbone.
I Never Told Him About This
The rain was doing its best to turn the Rue de Rivoli into a creek, but all I could focus on was how her silk dress clung to her hip.
Heavy Hollow
He didn't just touch my hip; he recalibrated my entire nervous system with the pressure of a thumb against my iliac crest.
Did You Really Think I Wouldn't Notice?
Tess looks at me with the steady, unblinking focus of a source who is about to lie to my face about everything.
Forget the Way Home
His hand was a hot weight on my lower back, right where the sacrum meets the spine, grounding me even as my pulse began to fray.
"I've Been Watching You Since the Anchor Dropped"
Your neck is the color of bleached bone under the deck lights, and I can see the pulse there, erratic as a dying bird.
"If the Flour Touches Your Skin, We Are Both Ruined"
His thumb was heavy, tracing the line of my jaw with the same brutal precision he used to score a loaf of sourdough.
"It's Probably a Breach of Contract"
The condensation on her glass is the only thing wetter than the silk shift she wore specifically to ruin my concentration.
—and it wasn’t even the good tequila
His hand was doing things to my composure that a three-year non-compete clause could never justify, especially with his wife ten feet away.
Rotten Splendor
Her skin tasted like the salt-air of the Gulf and the expensive, cloying sugar of a violet-scented macaron.
Stop Humming
The humidity in the Berkshires during August doesn’t just sit on you; it negotiates with your dignity until you’re both translucent.