Page 59 of Dirty Rotten Cheating Husband

When he was done, I gasped for air, the sweat trickling down my back and sides.

“Please give me another chance,” he whispered in my ear.

I didn’t even know Agent Grayson Bentley could whisper, send the sticky hairs on my neck curling around my throat.

“Please,” he said again, his hands tightening on me, tangling in my hair so there was a tiny pleasurable ache in my skull.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he said. “There could never be anyone for me but you.”

I couldn’t speak, my eyes still unfocused, my knees still like jelly, my hands trembling.

I hadn’t wanted Grayson Bentley back in my life.

But now that he was, could I ever go back to anyone else?

Before I could decide what to say, my cellphone rang.

“He’s headed your way!” Dad blasted in my ear.

“Oh, shit!” I said. “We’ve got to go and I don’t think I can walk.”

I took an experimental step and almost collapsed on the ground. Fuck, no, I was still as boneless as a gumby doll.

Grayson laughed in a low, amused tone.

“Get on my back,” he said. “I’m only doing this because I think it’s the best way to get your father out of our hair.”

Then he ran swiftly back to the SUV, with me clinging onto his back, legs wrapped around his waist.

“Are you on the pill?” he asked as we hopped back into the car and headed out after Rocky.

“Yes,” I said, tightening my legs together as I felt his cum begin to seep out onto my thighs.

“Get off it,” he said. “Anytime you like and I’ll put a baby in you.”

“There he goes,” I said, ignoring the low seduction of his words, and we tailed Rocky Mariano carefully all the way to his marina.

CHAPTER 23

Grayson

Clementine and I were in the living room and I was going over my script, mouthing the words to myself to make sure I had them memorized.

I wanted to make sure she knew I was taking this seriously, and if I screwed up the Frogmother’s lines she might think I didn’t give a shit.

Oh the sun shines down on my froggy-woggy skin

And the green shines bright. . .

Like. . . like what? Fuck goddamnit, I couldn’t remember. Clementine had my brain scrambled as fuck.

I glanced over at her. She was leaning back against the soft pillows of the couch, one leg on the ground, the other one stretched over the side.

Holy hell, she was so gorgeous.

She was wearing a little tank top and a long loose skirt and I had to swallow down the drool that was pooling in my mouth at how the skirt rode low over her hips.

I didn’t think she was paying any attention to me, but then she said, “Close your mouth, Frogmother. You look like you’re trying to method act catching flies.”

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