Page 70 of Trashy Affair Duet

A missed call from Chris. Big surprise there, since he’s been calling and texting for a couple of weeks now.

He misses me. He wants me to come home. He’s sorry. He forgives me. Blah, blah, blah.

I pull up my contacts, and my thumb hovers over Cash’s name.

Don’t do it, Jules.

Closing my eyes, I relive the moment his lips touched mine for the first time. The way his fingers twisted in my hair. The way he pulled me close—so close that I felt every hard plane of his body against me.

His abs under my palms, his mouth on my throat, his hard cock nudging me through his jeans. Holy hell, do I love that man in jeans. There is nothing sexier than Cash Montgomery in jeans and a T-shirt.

For a long while I stare at my cell, trying to reconcile what I should do with what I want to do. What I want is him, and I’ll take him any way I can get him, even if it’s only through a text message during a weak moment I can’t help but steal.

Me: Are you alone?

He answers almost immediately.

Cash: Yes. Are you?

Me: Alone and drunk.

Cash. Jesus. Where are you?

Me: At my friend’s house.

Cash: Is the guy with the tattoos there?

Me: He lives here.

Cash: The thought of him touching you is making me insane. Please tell me you’re not doing anything stupid.

Me: Stupid, like finding someone who can actually be with me?

Minutes pass, and I bite my lip as I wait for him to answer. I’m a nervous wreck, wondering what he’s thinking.

Me: Please talk to me.

Cash: I’m here, Jules. I just don’t know what to say.

Me: Just tell me the truth, no matter how much it might hurt.

Cash: The truth is I don’t want you with anyone else. But that’s not fair to you, so if you’re into this guy, and he’s treating you right, then I’ll deal with it.

Me: What if I want to be yours?

God, I have no filter right now.

Cash: We both know that’s not possible.

Tears sting my eyes, and there’s no chance of holding them back now—not with the crushing weight of his words on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Blinking the sorrow down my cheeks, I reply to his text, and a teardrop lands on the screen.

Me: Because you love her?

Cash: No, because divorcing her involves more than just the two of us.

Wiping my eyes, I glare at his message.

Me: I don’t understand. That makes no fucking sense, Cash.

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