All Chapters of Dirty Affairs: An Erotic Compilation : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

JUNIPER The morning sun was doing that golden, California-dreaming thing, spilling across my granite countertops and making the dew on the lawn outside look like scattered diamonds. It was such a beautiful day. Maybe because on this exact day five years ago, I'd tied the knot with my husband. I was standing at the kitchen island mixing flour with butter for my wedding anniversary cake, but my mind—and my eyes—were anywhere but on the mixing bowl in front of me.Through the window above the sink, I had a front-row seat to the best show in the neighborhood.Liam, our neighbor from 4B, was out on his porch again. He was wrestling with some kind of loose floorboard, hunched over with a hammer in one hand. He wasn't wearing any shirt. A big mistake for my focus, but a huge win for my morning. Something tempting and delighting to start the day of course. Every time he swung that hammer, the muscles in his back rippled like a disturbed pool of water. His skin was that perfect, sun-kis

COACH LEOI had spent seven years in between iron and sweat. To me, a gym wasn't just a place to burn calories. It was an arena for transformation, and as a head fitness instructor, I took pride in sculpting bodies. My passion was in taking the soft, unrefined, stagnant, and turning them into something powerful. I’d seen it all—the New Year’s resolutioners who faded after barely making it past three weeks, the dedicated marathoners, and the professional bodybuilders who lived and breathed the scent of rubber mats and chalk.For seven years, I was the professional. I had a reputation for being disciplined, and entirely focused on results. I’d spotted thousands of squats and adjusted the posture of countless women, and never once had my heart rate spiked for anything other than a heavy set of deadlifts. I thought after seven years, I was immune to the distractions of the flesh. I thought I was the master of my own desires.Then came Brooke.She registered two weeks ago, a corporate e

LILYThe bass from the main floor of The Red Hour banged against my eardrum in an unapologetic manner, letting me aware of the fact that I'd definitely be needing hearing aids in my later years. That's if I first survive this night. The air carried a thick smell of expensive gin, flavored vape clouds, and the familiar sweaty scent of hundreds of people pressed against each other.I sat on the edge of the velvet seat, nursing a gin and tonic I didn’t really want, feeling like a ghost at my own funeral. My eyes, traitorous and hungry, were fixed on the center of the booth.Leslie, my best friend since we were in pigtails, was practically draped over Jasper like a discarded silk scarf. She was drunk—the kind of messy, loose-limbed drunk that often made her loud and reckless. But still, her hands were everywhere: tangled in his dark hair, sliding under the hem of his black t-shirt, tracing the hard, corded lines of his abdomen. She was grinding against him to the sound of a techno beat

AIDENThe atmosphere was heavy with the scent of bourbon and expensive perfume inside the private VIP lounge. It was the annual firm gala, the kind of night where professional masks often slipped,.and the hierarchy began to dissolve under the weight of too much consumption of alcohol. I sat on a armchair directly opposite Irene Gill, my tie loosened and my pulse racing. Irene wasn't just my boss. She was a well-sculptured work of art. At forty-two, she possessed a predatory sort of grace that made every man in the office mesmerized when she walked by. She was a package of curves that felt built to destroy a man’s focus. With heavy, lush breasts that always seemed to be at war with the fabric of her blouses, and hips that swung in a hypnotic manner. Tonight, she was dressed in a midnight-blue sequined dress that was so tight it looked like a second skin. Every breath she took made the fabric strain against her cleavage.For two years, I had been her technical assistant. Two years

NATALYA The air in the hallway felt like it had been sucked out of a vacuum the second his eyes snapped toward the door. Maximilian didn't look startled; he looked like a predator that had finally cornered its prey. Our gazes locked through the crack of the open door, and for one terrifying heartbeat, the tension between us was visible, a kind of fierce spark that ignored the boundaries of family and fidelity.I recollected my stunned-ass self and bolted.I didn't say anything. I just ran. I reached Max’s bedroom, slammed the door shut, and turned the lock with trembling hands. I collapsed against the bed, my breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches. My sweater felt scratchy and suffocating against my skin as I pulled it tighter around me, trying to shield myself from the image burned into my retinas.Maximilian. My boyfriend’s father. The cold, arrogant titan of the finance industry. He'd been in there, stroking his cock. A cock that looked far too thick and dangerous, and he'd