Seduction

When the zipper came undone on her dress, I understood that night in the dressing room would change everything between us—and that I didn’t want it to stop.

I changed the song to a slower one, let my fingers travel down my neck, and suddenly the massage was no longer just a massage. Care to imagine it with me?

That morning I didn’t get dressed or dry my tears. I just dialed his number and asked him to come without telling my husband.

We were never friends, but she looked at me with contempt every time her boyfriend kept staring at me. So I decided to give her a real reason to hate me.

They went up to the second floor carrying a tray of pastries. None of them imagined they’d learn that afternoon how much desire had been sleeping between the three of them.

We’d fantasized about it for months. As she went upstairs behind the waitress, I knew I was going to watch everything from the room next door.

I put on the white apron and the little cap, did my makeup like a slut, and called him to let him know the room was ready. We had the rest memorized.

I’ve spent years getting paid to sleep with strangers. I never thought I’d be the one begging to see her again.

The hospital smelled of chlorine, but all she could breathe was the memory of calloused hands on her back—and the fear that Valeria wouldn’t open the door.

I thought the family weekend would be like any other. Until she walked through the gate and I realized the past had never really been buried.

My tutor had just fallen asleep when I discovered the half-open drawer of her bedside table. Inside, something was shining that was about to change everything between us.

When he put my hand on his crotch while driving, I knew there was no going back. That night I stopped pretending and gave myself to him completely.

The moment I crossed that door, I stopped being me. He was waiting for me without a wig or makeup, with a bad-boy smile and my new name already chosen.

I thought the spa was empty until I heard the laughter. Five young voices, five gazes that never left the wet white bikini against my skin.

I accepted the room he rented me without suspecting a thing. Three weeks later I was already planning my new life with him, while my husband still called me every night.

I smelled fresh coffee and knew the night before hadn’t been a dream. Yamila was still there, in my kitchen, her skin still warm with desire.

When she came out of the bathroom with her robe tied carelessly and her nipples pressing against the fabric, I knew I could never look at her as just the cousin from summer beach trips again.

I wanted her from the very first day, with her perfect body squeezed into those leggings. What I didn’t imagine was what she was hiding underneath, or how far I was willing to go.

When he pulled down his boxers without asking me to leave the room, I knew the afternoon had stopped being about sportswear.

I arrived in a black dress and hairpins. She was waiting in red silk, with a jeweled pendant and a question: what do you expect me to offer you?