“We so shouldn’t be doing this,” he huffed without really stopping or slowing.

“Shh, shh, not now.” Her response was teasing, just above a supressed giggle. Her grin spoke volumes, the sum total effect of which was to draw him right back in. Her scent did the rest, almost washing away the guilt.

Scraps of foreboding still clung to the dingy motel walls. Remnents of conscience lay along with the scattered clothes, draped over a broken down chair, side table, and television. A faint pang of regret shone down with the yellow light from the cracked fixture.

“If your sister ever finds out…”

Her giggle broke free, a tinkling of inexplicably equal shares angelic and devilish, “Don’t you find it funny…yeah, right there…that whenever we meet like this…mmm, a little more, baby…you refer to her as my sister…”

He knew what was coming. He always knew, no matter how much he tried to deny and put things away.

She gasped, then finished her question in the afterglow, “…instead of as your wife?”