Page 118 of The Accidental Wife

Shayla’s brows knit together tightly, “No, but you clearly have if you think for one damn second, you get to tell me who I can and cannot spend my time with.” She glares at me hard and pushes me away. “You have no control over me or my damn life, so get over yourself.”

I roll my eyes and grab her arm before she could walk away, “Get over myself? Do you think it’s easy for me to see you moving on with somebody else when it was just a couple of weeks ago that you were mine!”

Shayla exhales slowly. “First of all, I was never yours, Cole. Secondly, do you think I don’t feel the same damn thing every goddamn day knowing you’re in bed with her?”

We stare at one another, and Shayla’s eyes fill with tears. “I’m not in bed with her,” I tell her, my fingers trailing down her arm. I curl them around her wrist and pull her close to me. “I can’t bear to touch her when you’re all I want, Shayla,” I whisper, pressing my forehead to her temple. “How could you think I’d ever touch another woman when I’m crazy about you, baby.” Shayla’s eyes close, and tears roll down her cheeks.

“Cole, stop it.” She whispers, turning her head away, but I cup her face in my hands and lift her gaze to mine, my thumbs brushing away her tears.

“Tell me how, and I will.” I declare miserably. “When your hands are still the last to touch my bare skin, just as mine is yours. Your beautiful bare body is still the last to be pressed against mine, just like mine is yours.” I sigh, brushing my nose over hers. “Until today, your lips were the last to touch mine,” I whisper, ghosting my lips over hers. “Make it yours again, baby,” I murmur and press my lips to hers softly. She squeaks, surprised but doesn’t push me away, which pleases me. I brush her lips apart with my own and sneak my tongue into her mouth, massaging it against her own teasingly. She kisses me back just for a minute before she pushes me off, panting.

“Cole,” She breathes, her hands still on my chest. I lick my lips and stare into her eyes.

“You were always mine, and as long as I remain the last man to touch you, you will continue to be,” I answer, dragging my thumb over her bottom lip. “Just as I am yours.”

“You’re not mine.” She whispers and pulls away, taking her scent and warmth with her. “You belong with your fiancée and unborn child.” She turns and walks away

“You and I both know that’s not where I belong,” I say, and she stops walking for a second before she exhales and hurries away, leaving me behind.

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