Alle Kapitel von UNHOLY & FORBIDDEN : Kapitel 51 – Kapitel 60

Catrine arrived at 8:50 p.m. with the sedan this time. She drove it straight into the open bay, killed the engine, and stepped out without saying a word about the car. Dex was already at the control panel. He hit the button. The heavy metal door rolled down and locked with the same final sound as the previous nights. Only the center bank of fluorescents stayed on, throwing hard white light across the concrete and the black paint of the sedan. He walked toward her wiping his hands. He didn’t ask why she had brought the car. The pretense had already been discarded. Dex took her by the waist and turned her so her back met the driver’s side door. He kissed her hard, open-mouthed, the kind of kiss that had nothing left to negotiate. His hands pulled her dress up to her waist in one motion. She was bare underneath, exactly as she had been the last time. A rough sound left his chest when his palms slid over her ass and pulled her flush against him. She could feel how hard he already was t

The following night the heat had not broken. Even after dark the air stayed thick, pressing against the screens and carrying the smell of warm grass and distant barbecue smoke from somewhere down the block. The sprinkler next door had finally been turned off. The only sound between the two houses was the low electric hum of air conditioners fighting a losing battle. Daniel crossed the shared walk at 10:20. Catherine opened the back door before he could knock. She was barefoot, still in the blouse from earlier, the top two buttons undone. Behind her the kitchen was dim. Sloane sat on the counter in an oversized T-shirt that barely reached mid-thigh, legs swinging slowly, watching him the same way she had the night before—direct, unafraid, already decided. Catherine closed the door. The lock clicked. “She waited all day,” Catherine said. “So did I.” Sloane’s voice was quieter. “You didn’t have to come. But I’m glad you did.” Daniel stepped closer. Sloane reached out, took the fron

The last fluorescent bank in the garage stayed on until 9:40 p.m. Catrine’s black sedan sat in the middle bay with the hood already raised. She had called the shop an hour earlier claiming the same intermittent stalling problem she had reported twice before. Both previous times the car had been fine by morning. Both previous times she had left with Dex’s number written on a paper towel and a look that lasted too long. Dex wiped his hands on a red rag and dropped it on the tool cart. Thirty-nine. Broad through the shoulders, forearms dark with old oil that never fully washed out, black work shirt with the sleeves cut off at the elbows. He hit the button for the main bay door. The heavy metal rolled down and locked with a final metallic thud that echoed off the concrete. He turned and looked at her. “There’s nothing wrong with the car.” “I know.” The admission sat between them under the hard white light. Catrine leaned back against the front fender. She was still in the cream blou

Catrine arrived at 8:50 p.m. with the sedan this time. She drove it straight into the open bay, killed the engine, and stepped out without saying a word about the car. Dex was already at the control panel. He hit the button. The heavy metal door rolled down and locked with the same final sound as the previous nights. Only the center bank of fluorescents stayed on, throwing hard white light across the concrete and the black paint of the sedan. He walked toward her wiping his hands. He didn’t ask why she had brought the car. The pretense had already been discarded. Dex took her by the waist and turned her so her back met the driver’s side door. He kissed her hard, open-mouthed, the kind of kiss that had nothing left to negotiate. His hands pulled her dress up to her waist in one motion. She was bare underneath, exactly as she had been the last time. A rough sound left his chest when his palms slid over her ass and pulled her flush against him. She could feel how hard he already was t

The second intermission ended with the soft chime of the warning bells. Liora remained in the front chair of the private box. Her concert dress was zipped again, the skirt smoothed down, but the evidence of what Adrian had done during the second act still clung warm and slick between her thighs. The violin case sat untouched at her feet. Below them the house lights dimmed and the stage glowed gold once more. The third act began. Adrian did not return to the seat behind her. He stayed beside her, one arm resting along the back of her chair, his body angled so that anyone glancing from a neighboring box would see only a patron leaning in to speak. His hand settled on her knee beneath the cover of the long black skirt. The touch was light at first. Then his fingers began to gather the fabric again, inch by inch, until the hem rested high on her thighs once more. The orchestra opened with a low, sustained passage of strings. Adrian used the cover of it. His hand slid higher, found the