Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
She peeks over her shoulder, looking guilty. The fucking irony. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” My steps are just as careful as my words as I walk over to her, placing a hand on her delicate shoulder and watching her in the mirror. “Is everything okay?”
“No,” she answers quickly and sniffles once. She’s already fixed her makeup and looking as though she’s back to pretending nothing’s wrong, but then her eyes meet mine in the mirror. Her baby blues are filled with anger and an unforgiving chill. “He had an apartment,” she says with certainty. “A place for his mistresses or one-night stands or whatever they were.”
I attempt a look that expresses shock, but none of that is news to me. I wasn’t sure if she knew. For the first time since meeting her, I feel guilty for not telling her. As if somehow I could have saved her this heartache if I’d given her a piece of the truth. Only a piece.
She laughs something wicked and sad, a mix of both as she shakes her head and says, “You think I’m pathetic, don’t you? A housewife who had no idea what her husband was doing behind her back.” Her voice is strained toward the end of the statement and the strength leaves her with each word. I hate how she does this. How she blames herself, belittles herself. She’s stronger than she knows. And worth so much more.
“What he did is a reflection of himself, not you.” Taking another step closer to her, I stand behind her with her back touching my chest, just barely. “You aren’t pathetic, Jules.” I kiss the side of her neck, my eyes on hers in the mirror as I say, “I’d never think that.”
“I do,” she says. “He cheated once. He was so upset. He cried and swore up and down he’d never do it again. And I believed him.”
My heart beats erratically and I’m desperate to ask who he cheated with. to see if Jules knows her name. I keep my mouth closed and wait for more from her.
“I believed him.” The pain comes through in her words as she turns in my arms, placing her small hands on the lapels of my jacket. Her eyes travel along the buttons of my shirt, her fingers soon following. “I really thought he was good to me.”
I pull away slightly, taking her wrists gently in my hands and getting her attention. “I’m sorry,” I tell her with true sympathy but it comes out rough and short, shocking her.
She pulls away from me. “I am too,” she says to the ground, turning around and brushing the hair out of her face. “I think maybe tonight—”
I can hear the excuse already, I can see her pushing me away and I’m not going to let it happen. There’s no way I’m leaving until I know she’s still mine.
Each time she questions me or what’s going on between us, I feel the need to hold her tighter.
“Come here,” I command her. She stops in her tracks, peeking up at me through thick lashes with a question in her eyes. She doesn’t ask whatever it is though, she obeys me, taking two small steps back to me in those heels.
“He was a fool to cheat on you.” As I speak, I brush my thumb along her delicate jaw.
She huffs a small laugh at me and I didn’t expect that. I narrow my eyes as she says, “You’re a well-known player, Mason.” The humor vanishes and her smile fades to nothing as she adds, “You don’t have to pretend to care. I’ll be fine.”
My chest tightens with anger. She can have an attitude about him all she wants. But there are boundaries when it comes to us. I won’t allow her to demean our relationship. “Bend over the table.” I grit the words out between my teeth. I don’t even think twice about it.
She merely blinks at me, shocked. She should have known better.
“Now, Jules.” My voice comes out hard and I almost take it back. But this is the man I am and this is what she’s going to get. There’s a war brewing between us, causing the air to suffocate me. I need Jules for the woman she truly is, not this version that the memory of her husband brought back.
She holds my gaze for a moment and my pulse flickers, thinking I’m going to lose her, but she caves before I even blink, submitting just like she wants to. Good girl.
She presses her hips against the table, slowly leaning down to lay her upper body against the tabletop. That’s the beauty of our relationship—she wants to give in. She desperately wants to trust someone and not be hurt.
“Lift up your dress.”
I hear her breathing pick up. “Mason—” she starts to say.