I turned away from her and headed to the walk-in closet, pulling a new shirt and trousers off hangers now that the ones I had been wearing were in a crumpled heap on the floor.
Of course, she didn’t leave. That would require her to do something thoughtful for someone else, which was simply not coded into her DNA.
I heard her follow me into the closet and tensed when she snaked her arms around my waist, pressing the length of her naked body against me. “Adam, don’t be like this. I said I was sorry. What more do you want?”
I moved deftly out of her embrace, recoiling at the touch of her skin on mine. I turned to face her, glaring into her large, blue eyes that were the result of contacts, not genetics. Everything about her was carefully manufactured. From her thin, straight nose, to her sculpted chin. She had hacked and tucked so much that it was hard to remember what she had looked like before.
“I’d like to go back in time and stop myself from ever leaving the Homecoming dance with you in the first place,” I spat at her hatefully, meaning every single word.
A normal person would have been hurt by my deliberate low blow. Not Chelsea. It slid off her like water off a duck’s back. She was never bothered by the emotions or feelings of other people. She was the kind that got by on looks alone. I was infinitely disappointed in myself at how easily I fell into her void, how I thought having mind-blowing sex was all it took to create a lasting relationship. It was a classic example of teenage decision-making at its worst.
Inexperienced lust was a very dangerous thing.
“Don’t be so testy, Adam. I know you miss me.” She rubbed me through the thin material of my pajamas, cupping my balls. Stroking me with expert fingers. And damned if a part of me didn’t want to give in. To bend her over and bury myself deep inside her, I was a guy after all. And my healthy sex drive was proving cumbersome at the moment.
Like I said, fucking was the easy part.
It was the bullshit that came afterward that I wasn’t prepared to deal with any longer.
I moved away from her, forcing her to release me. “Leave, Chelsea. If you have something you need to talk about, text me. Don’t stop by for unannounced visits. Better yet, if you need something face to face, call the office, and Lena will set up an appointment.” I gathered her clothes off the floor and all but threw them at her. “Now get dressed and get the hell out of my house.”
Because it was my house. Not Chelsea’s. I had designed it my goddamn self. I made sure she would never be allowed to enjoy the fruits of my hard-earned labor.
Chelsea, finally realizing she couldn’t beguile me with her hands and mouth, switched the script. Tears filled her eyes as she hastily pulled her dress down over her head. She looked up at me through her thick, very fake lashes. She was a damn good actress; I’d give her that. Anyone else would have thought her heart was broken.
But I knew that was impossible. The bitch didn’t have a heart.
“I just want to make this right, Adam. I love you. You love me. We’ve built a life together. How can you throw all that away as if it means nothing?”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Her audaciousness was hysterical. I gripped her arm, careful not to hurt her—I didn’t abuse women; I wasn’t a monster—and walked her out of my bedroom, down the long, winding staircase, and to the front door. She sniffed dramatically the entire way, wiping tears from her eyes as if they meant something.
I reached down and picked up the high heels she had kicked off when she arrived, handed them to her, and opened the front door, maneuvering her out onto the porch.
“Aren’t you going to say something, Adam?” she demanded angrily when I wouldn’t respond.
I looked my soon to be ex-wife in the eye and thanked God that I had woken up. There was nothing genuine about her. Not her tears. Not her words. Not even her body. Everything was molded and shaped to seduce and machinate. Why had it taken me so long to see it?
Meg warned me. They all had. Why hadn’t I listened?
Suddenly I was so very tired. I couldn’t summon the energy to even be angry. “Goodbye, Chelsea,” I said and shut the door in her face before she could say anything else.
Click here to read how the story continues!
More books by Sarah
SOUTHPORT LOVE STORIES
Say You’ll Stay
Say You Love Me
Say It’s Not Fake
LOVE ON FIRE
My Best Mistake
Unexpected Heat
One Hot Daddy
One Hot Fake
IRRESISTIBLE BILLIONAIRES
Unexpected Surprise
Beautiful Mistake
My Favorite Gift
My Next Mistake
About the Author
Sarah has been writing since she was 16 years old and has published multiple Amazon bestselling books. No matter if her heroes are Billionaires, Bad Boys or both - she loves to write about hot and sexy alpha males, who are protective and sometimes bossy, as well as the women they crave. Her exciting stories are always steamy, with a lot of twists and turns and a guaranteed HEA that leaves you satisfied after a wild ride - just like it should be in the bedroom, you know?
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With love,
Sarah
Say You're Mine: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Southport Love Stories Book 4) Page 26
