Bonus Scene #3:
Rachel seduces Graeme for the first time

Warning: Don't read these scenes unless you've already read the book! These scenes give away many of the secrets behind the twists and turns of IMMORAL.

It had become a Sunday morning ritual in the month since he and Emily married.

Graeme lay in bed alone, the blankets rumpled around him. Emily had gone off to church a few minutes earlier, not asking if Graeme wanted to go, because she already knew the answer. He had no interest in visiting her old neighborhood or listening to Dayton Tenby preach about humility.

The house was perfectly still. Graeme didn't move, not wanting to make any sound at all. He was stretched out in bed, naked except for his boxer shorts, staring at the motionless ceiling fan and listening intently. A few minutes passed, but the noises he expected didn't come. He frowned, wondering if this week would be different.

But no.

He heard it. Somewhere out in the hallway, a door opened. Then soft footfalls came closer. Another door opened, much nearer, leading into the master bathroom. And a few seconds later, the shower pulsed to life, and he heard the rumble of the shower door opening and closing.

It was Rachel. Each week, she came to their bathroom — to his bathroom — once Emily was gone. Not to her own bathroom on the other side of the house. To his.

At first he had thought nothing of it. Then, the next weekend, it happened again, and he felt a ripple of erotic excitement, thinking of his stepdaughter so close to him, naked under the water. When he went into the bathroom after she was gone, he could still smell her there. The vague perfume of her body lingered in the steam.

Then last weekend, she came again, and he realized she was doing it deliberately, teasing him, playing with his mind. Trying to seduce him.

Oh, yes. That had been clear from the start. She knew what he was, and he knew she could see right through him from the very instant he laid eyes on her. All along, he had dated Emily and lusted after Rachel. He was terrified that he would cross the line again and actually sleep with her, but her allure drew him closer anyway, playing with the flame, trying to get as hot as he could endure without burning.

A little game for just the two of them.

But his fantasies were getting out of hand. It seemed he thought of little else now, and sometimes he could hardly sleep, rolling in the blankets, imagining his body intertwined with the girl. As he lay on his back, he pictured her above him, her legs spread, her mound sinking over his penis, her breasts dangling over his chest as she leaned forward, kissing him, draping her hair over his face.

Rachel had seen the obsession in his eyes. And she was luring him, pulling him in. He tried to control his desire, but it raged out of control. She knew exactly how to pull his strings as skillfully as a marionette.

Like slipping into his shower each Sunday morning. Daring him to join her.

Rachel hadn't bothered closing the door between the bathroom and Graeme's bedroom. It was ajar, light spilling onto the carpet. He could hear the water slapping on the tile and the shower door. The sound of the water subtly changed as the flow broke over different parts of Rachel's body. It painted a vivid picture in his mind. Graeme lay in bed, wrestling with his demons. Each time he had given in to temptation in the past, he swore to himself it was the last time. But then the old desire came back. The power of it overwhelmed him. He could imagine the wet touch of her skin so clearly that he could almost feel it under his fingertips.

What was more, he knew she wanted it, too. It was no accident. She was sending him a message. Emily's away. Come join me. Come.

It was the same message she had sent when she sat at the top of the stairs while Emily told him she was pregnant. He could barely concentrate on Emily's words, because over her shoulder, he couldn't take his eyes off Rachel, opening and closing her legs, and grinning at him. He could read her lips then. Say yes.

She had been in the shower for five minutes. If he was going to go, he would have to go soon, or wait until the following week. But maybe next week, Rachel wouldn't come. How many times could he ignore the signal before she stopped sending it?

He closed his eyes. The pounding of the shower echoed in his head. His body was bathed in sweat, and his penis jumped up rigidly from his boxer shorts, making a tent of the paisley fabric. He swung his legs out of bed and sat up. The light of the bathroom drew his eyes. He swallowed hard, then stood up and padded silently across the carpet. Through the crack of the door, he saw the mirror fogged over and saw a burgundy towel draped over the sink.

Slowly, quietly, he nudged the door open with his hand. An inch at a time, the shower stall became visible. He held his breath. Through the frosted glass, he saw the peach outline of her naked body, crested by the girl's mane of raven hair. Her face was tilted upward into the spray, and her arms were folded behind her neck, letting the water cascade over her body. With her back arched, her breasts swelled, and Graeme could see clearly the dark profile of one stiffened nipple. Languidly, as he watched, she bathed herself, soaping her body in long caresses. She squirted soft gel into her palm, then rubbed it gently over her skin. He followed every movement of her hands, transfixed as she stroked her thighs and then, two-handed, buried her fingers in her crotch. He could barely contain the urge to strip off his shorts and climb into the shower with her. He could imagine being behind her, his big hands reaching around to cup her breasts, his penis buried in the fold of her wet cheeks. His lips would kiss her soft neck, and a gasp of pleasure would escape her mouth.

Rachel reached forward and turned off the shower.

The silence shocked him. He jumped back, stumbling on the carpet. His last glimpse was of Rachel turning, reaching for the shower door. He wondered if she saw him making his fumbling escape.

He didn't have time to pull the door shut. Humiliated, Graeme crept back to bed in the darkness. Over the heavy sound of his own breathing, he listened to the noises from the shower. He could hear her wet feet moving on the tile. She hummed under her breath as she toweled off.

Graeme sat on the edge of the bed, equally terrified and aroused. He felt exposed, unsure if she had seen him there or wanted him there, and disgusted with himself that he had again proven too weak to resist.

But the yearning was insatiable. Idly, he let two fingers slip inside the pocket of his shorts, stroking his penis. The barest touch nearly brought him to orgasm. He wanted to pull it out, sink to his knees, and masturbate furiously, half-hoping she would appear in the doorway and see him.

And then there she was.

The door opened. His fingers sprang away. He was in shadow, and she was illuminated in the bright light of the bathroom. She held the burgundy towel wrapped loosely around her body. It wasn't tied. She could have opened it at any moment and revealed her nude body to him. Her damp hair fell to her shoulders, and her skin was wet. She watched him with a flirtatious grin.

"Good morning," Rachel said.

Graeme mumbled a greeting.

"What's up?" she asked, and her smile got a little broader.

He had no way of covering his massive erection. Even in the dim light, he knew it was visible, and he watched her eyes deliberately travel southward.

Graeme didn't say anything.

"So what are your plans this morning?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied, feeling like a fool.

Rachel shrugged. The towel slipped, partially revealing the swell of her right breast.

The rest of the towel barely sank below her hips.

"I thought you could take me on a drive," she said. "Somewhere in the woods, maybe. Didn't you tell me the morning light is best for photographs?"

"Sure," Graeme stammered. "I'd like that."

"I would, too," Rachel said.

She dipped her hand, and the edge of the towel curled downward. Graeme found himself staring at one perfect breast, with an erect brown nipple framed against bone white skin. As if it were an accident, Rachel demurely tugged the towel up. But as she did, the towel edged above her thigh, giving him a brief glimpse of the damp mound between her legs.

Graeme felt his penis break free from his shorts. The fabric slid apart, leaving him fully exposed. He knew he should cover himself, but his hands were frozen. She had completely seduced him.

"I'll be ready in a minute," Rachel said. "I'll see you in the van."

She spun around, then dropped the towel in a pile at her feet. He watched her naked back as she retreated into the bathroom and disappeared toward her room. Her door closed sharply a few seconds later.

Graeme stared down at his erect penis, throbbing, in full view.

No, he told himself. No. Not again.