My husband and his ex

FARRELL:

I slammed the door and scrunched my face as I stared at Cassie, who had a smirk on her face. Cassie was the thorn in my rose garden and my ex; unlike the other women I had dated, she was the most fearless. I met her shortly after losing my wife, and her submissive but haughty demeanor lifted me out of my depression.

She was still stunning, with her large sky-blue eyes, long lashes, and those juicy kissable lips that were always ready to give some lips. But Cassie was bad news; she embodied the adage “all that glitters is not gold.”

She satiated my strange sexual desire, but she never let me heal properly.

“Mr. Gustavo,” she said seductively, spreading her long, spotless legs on my table to reveal her underwear.

“Can you explain how you got in here, Cassie?” I inquired, my brow furrowed.

Then I took off my jacket and hung it on a hook near the door. “I am not here to play games, Cassie; please tell me how you got in!” I said this with a growl and marched straight to the table.