Page 58 of Perdition

The thing about limerence was it turned rational men into gaslighters

Liars.

Manipulators.

When it had all began, he’d had no malicious intent, he hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone, especially Em, but he’d been so caught up in that desperate need for validation, fulfillment, euphoric satiation that he’d become someone he’d never, in a million years, thought he’d become.

A betrayer.

And it had all started with making excuses for his behavior.

And that’s what Frost had been doing to his brothers, making excuses, getting defensive, trying to turn what they were sayingaround on them—that intervention in club Church being a fine example.

Then, there was the way he’d been treating Em, like she was being a bitch because she was angry at him for pulling away. She had every right to be angry, to feel betrayed, because even though he’d never touched Sarah sexually, his mind and heart were trying to fit her into places in his soul that were Emily-shaped. Places that were made just for her.

His soulmate.

His other half.

His better half.

And to lose her…he couldn’t fucking contemplate it.

Checking his phone, he saw that Em had texted him the new key code for the front door. No doubt she’d change it the moment he was gone tonight.

And hewouldbe leaving, because once everything was out on the table, there was no way Em was going to let him stay.

He just hoped that, eventually, he’d work his way back into their home.

And their bed.

Fuck, he missed his wife in every fucking way possible.

Keying in the new code, Frost entered the house and immediately recognized the sounds of the master shower running. The pipes in the house were only five years old, but the high water pressure made them groan when in use.

“Must’ve got off early,” he muttered to himself, just before realization made his breath catch and his eyes blow wide.

Em.

Sexy as fuck Emily.

In.

The.

Shower.

Naked.

Immediately, his cock hardened to the point of agony.

As it always did with thoughts of Emily in the shower. Naked. Sliding soapy hands over her big, lush breasts, her erect nipples, down her belly, over her hips, over the globes of her plump, fuckable ass, down each of her long, thick, shapely legs—legs he needed wrapped around him like he needed his next breath.

And let him not forget how she’d slip those soapy fingers between the lips of her plump, pink pussy—bare and swollen and begging for his tongue.

No, his wife wasn’t the thin, firm-fleshed girl she’d been in her youth, before the twins were conceived, but he’d had more years with the fuller, curvier, supple body of his children’s mother than he’d had with that other version of her.

He preferred the mature, upgraded edition of the girl he’d met twenty-eight years ago. That Em was young, inexperienced, naïve. The one he knew now, the woman she’d grown into, the queen she’d fought tooth and nail to become was worthy of every breath as praise, every heartbeat as adoration, every moment of pain as sacrifice.