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Accueil / Urban / Dirty and Sinful Collection (erotica) / Chapitre 261 - Chapitre 270

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8

Amelia.I used to think the church was the safest place in the world. Now, it’s the only place I ever feel in danger; real danger, the kind that isn’t about God or hellfire, but the risk of losing everything for one more taste of Nathan Carter.Rumors were wildfire, burning up pews and hallways, lapping at the heels of everyone who whispered my name. I felt them everywhere I went, crawling over my skin, making me flinch when a door slammed, making me sweat every time my father glanced at me a little too long. It was like being watched by a thousand eyes and knowing not a single one of them would blink if you burned.Nathan tried to keep his distance, tried to be cold, but the tension only grew tighter every day. It was in every brush of our hands, every glance that lingered too long. In the way we both flinched when my father’s footsteps echoed down the hall.We both knew it was only a matter of time before someone caught us.I was filing music sheets in the church office—my father’s

9

9Amelia.The air in our house felt poisoned and thick with secrets.For days I’d sensed it brewing. The looks had worsened at church. And now there was the stiff silence from my mother, the way my father’s hand hovered over my shoulder but never quite touched. I tried to pretend I was the same daughter I’d always been, but my body gave me away: I flinched when anyone brushed too close, my eyes darting to doors and windows, always watching for Nathan, always afraid someone else was too.I heard the news before I saw it—the rumors flaring hotter than ever, someone had seen us in the office, or thought they had, and tongues were wagging like banners in a storm. My phone vibrated with frantic texts from choir girls, a message from my mother that was just a single, breathless question: Is there something I need to know?My father found me in the kitchen, the late sun slanting gold through the window, making everything too bright, too sharp.“Amelia.” He said my name gently, but there was n

10

1Amelia.The church was packed.Word spreads quickly when there’s scandal to witness, and Sunday morning felt more like a trial than a service. The women’s stares were sharper, whispers fluttering like moths behind veiled hands. My mother’s face was stone. My father’s jaw was set, his Bible clenched so tightly the pages bent.And Nathan—he stood at the front of the choir, expression carefully blank, every muscle in his body strung tight, like a man about to walk into the fire.I’d thought shame would swallow me. Instead, I felt untouchable.Something had cracked open inside me in that bell tower—fear burned away by the wild, desperate way he’d held me, by the way I’d screamed his name to the sky.Now all I wanted was to live in the light, unafraid, to let the world see exactly who I’d become.My father’s sermon was short. His eyes never left me. “The wages of sin is death,” he said, voice trembling. “But there is resurrection for those who seek the truth.”I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t

Unholy desire

1Eva.I was late. Not fashionably, not excusably—late-late.I burst through the glass doors of Hayes & Rowe with my heart in my throat, hair damp against my neck, and my heels clicking a staccato rhythm that only reminded me how out of place I felt. Three missed calls blinked on my phone. One from the agency, two from an unknown number.I knew it was over before it started, but I was here anyway, praying the universe might grant me one ounce of mercy.The receptionist gave me that look. Pity mixed with a pinch of glee, as if she’d been waiting for someone to mess up just so she could witness the aftermath.“Eva Carter for Mr. Hayes,” I managed, breathless.She pressed a button, her eyes sharp as she watched me struggle to smooth my blouse and tame the flyaways around my face.“He’s waiting,” she said.I nodded, swallowed, and walked down a corridor that felt a hundred miles long.The door was open, just enough for me to glimpse the man inside. He didn’t look up when I knocked.He was

2

2Eva.Monday came faster than I expected, and it wasn’t until I stood in the elevator clutching my new employee badge that I realized just how real this was. My reflection in the mirrored doors looked like a version of myself I didn’t recognize—hair smooth, lips bitten pink, blouse tucked in too tight. I tried not to think about what had happened on that desk three nights ago, but every nerve ending seemed to remember.I stepped onto the tenth floor and found the office already buzzing. People moved fast here—sharp shoes, sharper voices, everyone pretending not to notice the new girl. I kept my head down and checked my phone: no messages, just the last text from Julian, simple and unreadable—Monday. Don’t be late.I was twenty minutes early, not because I wanted to impress him, but because I was terrified of making the same mistake twice. The receptionist—Lila, she told me—greeted me with a faint, knowing smile, like she knew something I didn’t. Maybe she did.Julian’s office door was

3

3Eva.I woke up before my alarm, already on edge, nerves strung tight. The glow of Julian’s last message haunted me: You’re mine now. I had no idea what that actually meant, or if I even wanted to understand. But I felt it in my bones, all through my morning routine. My hand shook as I zipped up my skirt. I picked the most conservative blouse I owned and still checked the mirror twice to make sure it wasn’t see-through. My skin still ached with phantom bruises from yesterday.At work, I did everything I could to avoid him. I kept my eyes glued to my screen, answered every email within seconds, and disappeared into the bathroom just to catch my breath. I convinced myself I could pretend nothing happened, be a normal intern for one day. I made it an hour before I felt him watching me from his office, the weight of his stare burning across the room. He didn’t call me in. He didn’t send a text. He just left his door open and waited.He wanted me to come to him. I refused. I tried to remin

4

4Eva.An email came in at noon: Dinner meeting tonight. 7PM sharp. Wear red. —JHI stared at the screen, my heart thudding. I had no idea if this was part of my job or just another way for him to remind me that I belonged to him. There was no subject line, no details, just the time and a command.I spent my whole afternoon in a fog, running my tongue over my lips, thinking about last night in the elevator—the way he hadn’t let me look away, how my legs had trembled all day from the memory. I barely got any work done. Every time I glanced up, Julian was there, perfectly composed, running the company like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t taken me apart and put me back together three different ways since Monday.By five, I was in the bathroom, fixing my hair, smoothing my dress. Red, like he said—a shade I never would’ve chosen for myself. It hugged my curves, made my skin glow and drew too much attention. I wore the boldest lipstick I owned, the kind that bled if I wasn’t careful, and I

5

5EvaBy Friday, I thought I’d finally figured out how to move through the office without drawing stares. I kept my head down, did my work, and tried to blend in, even though everyone already knew I was Julian’s new favorite. Whispers followed me down the hallways, little smirks from the other women, side-eyes from the ones who wanted what I had but would never dare reach for it.I wore a high-neck blouse and kept my hair up, hiding the faint marks he’d left on my throat. I told myself I’d be invisible today. I lied to myself every morning now.The quarterly board meeting brought in a handful of executives from other branches—men with strong handshakes, perfect teeth, and the kind of confidence that only comes from knowing you own a piece of the world. They gathered in the big conference room, and as Julian’s “assistant,” I was there to pass out papers, pour coffee, and play the part he’d written for me.One of the visiting execs—Lucas something, a few years older than me, all easy smi

6

6Eva.I noticed the change the second I walked into the office that morning. It wasn’t the usual buzz of a Friday; it was sharper, people whispering, moving faster, nervous energy prickling the air. I saw the reason the minute I rounded the corner: Mrs. Hayes, standing in the reception area, talking quietly with Lila.Julian’s wife didn’t belong in this world of deadlines and corporate politics. She looked like she’d just stepped off a magazine cover—cream silk blouse, pearls, the kind of confidence that didn’t come from practice but from birthright. Her smile was as cold as ever. She didn’t see me at first, but I kept my head down, praying for invisibility.Julian was in his office with the door closed. I glimpsed them through the glass—her hand on his sleeve, him nodding, stone-faced, every gesture stiff and practiced. She laughed once, tilting her head just so. I felt a spike of something bitter, ugly. I didn’t belong here. I was nothing next to her.When she finally left, Julian w

7

7Eva.I almost didn’t believe it when the email came through:Eva, pack a bag. You’re coming to the conference. Flights are booked. Separate rooms. —JHI read it three times before it made sense. I could feel the office watching me as I printed my boarding pass, as I slipped into the back of the company car beside Julian, our knees almost touching in the dark. He didn’t look at me, not once during the ride to the airport. He spent the whole time on the phone, calm and clipped, his wedding ring catching the city lights as he gestured.At the gate, we stood just a little too close. My chest ached with nerves, anticipation, fear. I kept thinking about what had happened in his office the night his wife came. The bruises on my hips hadn’t faded, a faint ache that throbbed every time I sat down. I should’ve hated him for it, should’ve run far away, but I couldn’t. I wanted more. I was hooked on the way he broke me open and put me back together.We landed after dark. The conference was in a

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