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Our Filthy Secret Nights of Passion
- Prologue
The Arrival
Alex pushed open the front door of his father’s house, the familiar creak of the hinges the only sound breaking the heavy summer silence. The cool air inside offered little relief from the heat clinging to his skin after the long drive. He dropped his duffel bag in the entryway and exhaled, shoulders loosening for the first time in weeks. College was behind him. The future felt wide open and terrifyingly blank.
Then he looked up.
At the top of the stairs stood a woman who made his pulse slam against his ribs. She was twenty-one, he would learn later, but right now she looked like pure, walking temptation. Wild chestnut curls tumbled over her bare shoulders in thick, unruly waves, framing a face with high cheekbones, full lips slightly parted, and striking blue-green eyes that locked onto his with unnerving intensity. Those eyes held a spark of surprise, then something darker—curiosity, amusement, heat.
She wore nothing but an oversized white button-down shirt, left completely open. The fabric hung loosely from her shoulders, doing nothing to hide the lush swell of her heavy breasts. Rosy nipples, already slightly peaked from the cooler air, crowned the soft, full mounds that rose and fell with each breath. Her waist was impossibly narrow, flaring into hips that promised a grip a man could lose himself in. And below that—fuck—those legs. Long, smooth, and encased in sheer black stockings that clung to every curve of her thighs like a second skin. The delicate lace bands at the tops dug gently into the soft flesh, creating the faintest indentation that made Alex’s mouth go dry.
She had clearly just stepped out of the shower. A few droplets still clung to the valley between her breasts, sliding slowly downward over the gentle curve of her stomach before disappearing into the shadowed cleft between her thighs. The open shirt framed her naked body like an invitation he had no right to accept.
Alex’s cock twitched hard in his jeans, thickening instantly at the sight. Heat flooded his groin, a sudden, heavy ache that made him shift his weight. He tried to look away, but his gaze kept dragging back—over the way her breasts moved when she took a small step forward, the faint sheen of moisture on her skin, the way the black stockings whispered against each other…