Page 125 of The Bad Husband

She doesn’t know what happened between Henrietta and me. To her, I’m the man who’s kicking his wife out to have fun with someone else.

It doesn’t help that she’s triggered by what happened to her daughter.

And Lila?

Lila proves to be the biggest surprise of my life.

I’m sure she’d say the same thing about me.

We’re clearly coming from different worlds. Her looking for a certain type of man doesn’t surprise me.

She was taught right. Men like me are nothing but pain. So, how will I bring it up to her that I need more from her?

My entire life I was convinced women like Henrietta were my jam. Immoral, thuggish, unreliable. Women who have drama tattooed on their foreheads. Women who steal a lot of cash, bamboozle some old man who doesn’t know any better, and get away with it most of the time.

It was fun for a while.

We were toxic to each other.

We thrived on it. Revel in it. Made a big deal out of it.

Maybe that’s what made her steal money from me.

But I didn’t find it funny. Didn’t even crack a smile. And it wasn’t only about the money.

Something inside me no longer felt entertained.

Had it happened any other time, I would’ve probably laughed it off, sent my men to collect her, locked her in the club, and punished her with dark raw sex, the kind she always loved.

But that impulse was no longer there. It had withered away at some point, and I hadn’t even noticed.

So, maybe that was a turning point. A crossroads. The universe telling me that I had enough of it.

Was it clear to me back then? No, absolutely not.

Even if it were, I wouldn’t have known who to replace her with.

Had someone told me Lila Skye would show in my life I would’ve laughed my ass off.

Lila and I have nothing in common.

She didn’t catch my attention when I glanced at some pictures of her in the past.

My current wife was droning on about something and asked me to take a look at the pictures.

There was a group of people. Lila’s father was in the pictures, too. And I completely dismissed her. Not because she wasn’t pretty, but because she was flying under my radar.

And look at her now.

I’m hard as steel, her spit making my cock glisten down to my balls, her hands spreading the moisture as she sucks on the tip, rolling her lips, swirling her tongue, her hair falling over her face.

She props her elbows on my thighs and bobs her head, her unfocused eyes closing, her lips swollen, her breathing shallow.

I love her to death. Not because she has me in her mouth. Not because she likes to suck me. Not because she’s trying to please me.

But because she is so different than what I had. So interesting. So unpredictable at times. I like her when she does stupid shit and comes to me to argue with me.

Not like Henrietta.