Page 177 of Bride By Initiation

"Did you do it with her too?" I spout, my voice cracking and tears welling in my eyes.

He freezes.

I push him back and then spin to face him.

Confusion fills his expression. "What are you talking about?"

I hold the lipstick in front of his face, demanding, "Who is she?"

He glances at the lipstick and then scowls at me. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Don't lie to me, Sean!"

"You think I'd cheat on you?"

"It was in your pocket!" I shout, a tear falling.

He wipes it off my cheek with his thumb, then keeps his palm on my jaw. In a low voice, he states, "Zara, I would never cheat on you. You're my wife."

My lips tremble. I seethe, "It was in the pants you wore on the night you left me at the charity event—on my own."

"That doesn't prove I cheated on you. And you know Liam called me for an emergency situation," he claims.

I scoff. "Don't insult me, Sean! Who is she? At least give me the courtesy not to lie to me. We both know you get bored."

His eyes turn to slits. "Iget bored? What about you?"

I huff. "Me? You're going to flip this on me?"

His voice raises. "Don't act like it's not true! Every day I wake up, wondering if it's the day you'll toss me aside for a newer model."

I jerk my head backward, gaping at him.

"Don't act like you don't get bored faster than I do," he adds.

I jab the lipstick into his chest. "Don't you dare turn this on me! I've been nothing but a loving wife to you! You're the one who left me on my own at a work event and came home with some cheap whore's lipstick in your pocket! That's on you, Sean! Not me!"

He glances at the tube and then meets my eyes, his greens flaring withflames. He declares, "I was working, Zara. I've never seen that lipstick before, so stop accusing me of something I would never do."

"Bullshit!"

He snatches the lipstick out of my hand. He tosses it in the trash, steps closer, and pins me to the washing machine.

I lean backward.

He cages me in, pressing his erection against my stomach. He moves his head until his lips are an inch from mine. "I'm not a cheater, my little brat."

The ache in my core turns fiery. It happens every time he calls me his brat and gives me that angsty look. I hate myself for it right now, so I scold myself, and snarl, "Then how did it get in your pocket? It's not mine."

"I don't know. But it doesn't prove anything."

"Don't gaslight me."

"Don't insult me further," he warns, his chest pushing against mine, his gaze darting to my mouth.

My pussy throbs. I challenge, "Or what, Sean?"

Tense silence builds between us while the air turns hotter.

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