The front door clicked shut, and the sound of my wife’s car engine faded down the driveway. I leaned against the kitchen counter, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. The house felt different now—quieter, charged with something unspoken.

I heard soft footsteps on the stairs, and then Chloe appeared in the doorway. She wore that tiny pink polka-dot bikini, the one she’d been lounging by the pool in all afternoon. Her sun-kissed skin gleamed under the kitchen lights, and her hair was still slightly damp from a quick shower.

Chloe: "Looks like it's just you and me for a few hours."

Her voice was light, teasing, but her eyes held mine a beat too long. I felt a heat creep up my neck.

Me: "Yeah, she said she’d be back late. You need anything?"

Chloe: "Maybe a drink. Or… company."

She moved closer, her hips swaying just a little more than necessary. She stopped right in front of me, close enough that I could smell her coconut-scented lotion.

Chloe: "You know, I've always wondered what it would be like to have you all to myself."

My throat went dry. This was forbidden—my wife’s sister-in-law, under my roof. But the way she looked at me, the way her fingers brushed my arm, made every rule seem distant.