Page 9 of Dirty Rotten Cheating Husband

And he didn’t even look embarrassed or ashamed!

“Oh, Clementine.”

Like I didn’t matter at all.

The tears were running down my cheeks now.

“What are you doing?” I cried, biting my lip to stop myself from blubbering.

I thought he’d apologize, say he was sorry.

Isn’t that what cheating husbands did when they were caught?

Make excuses, beg their wives to forgive them.

Promise they’d never do it again.

Something.

But he just pulled himself out of her pussy with a wet sucking sound, the condom slick and wet on his dick.

He didn’t even bother covering his erect cock up.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen it before. Whenever he wanted sex, I was eager to give it to him. But apparently I wasn’t giving it to him the right way or he wouldn’t be here fucking Vivi.

“How—how could you do this to me?” I cried, the tears streaming down my face. “Dad’s—dad’s just been arrested. I’m so stressed right now that I can’t think straight. Please—p-please, we can work through this, but I really need you right now, please come help!”

And my husband stood up then, towering over me with his great height, and pulled on his pants, grabbing his aviator sunglasses.

“if they just arrested Harvey, I better go,” he said, turning to Vivi.

Not me!

“You mean go to help dad?” I asked eagerly.

Grayson turned to fully look at me for the first time, fixing me with those piercing blue eyes. I had always done whatever he wanted, whatever those blue eyes asked me to do.

“No, Clementine. I’m not going to help him. I’ve been working for the last two years to build a case against your father.”

“Two years?” I cried. “But that’s how long we’ve been married.”

Grayson smiled, without humor.

“You might as well know now. I’m not an accountant. I’m an FBI agent, and I’ve been deep undercover as your husband to get enough evidence to take your dad down in court. The department will be in touch with you about some paperwork.”

My jaw dropped, and there was a ringing in my ears.

“B-but, you’re making it sound like our marriage was just a job to you!” I protested.

I heard Vivi’s low mocking laugh on the bed and I couldn’t bear to look at her.

Even though I suspected him of cheating, I never doubted he loved me.

Not my considerate husband. Not the man who remembered anniversaries like clock-work, the man who always planned ahead for dinner dates, split kitchen duties.

“It was,” he said, pulling a shirt on over the thick bands of muscles on his chest, the fabric sticking to his slick skin.

I couldn’t bear the smirk on Vivi’s face, the way she settled back casually against the pillows, as if she had complete confidence that he’d be coming back to her.

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