People assume that my marriage is over. They’re wrong.
She kicked me out. She changed the locks. She had me served with those damn divorce papers.
But if Grace-Monroe Trotten thinks she’s getting rid of me that easy, she’s mistaken. She doesn’t know the lengths I’d go to for her. I’m not giving up on my wife, on my son, on my marriage.
I’ve changed. And a real man isn’t scared to jump through hoops (wearing ridiculous men’s yoga pants) to prove it.
I may not deserve a second chance but I’m gonna fight like hell to get back in her heart and in her bed.
“Dirty Forever” is the much-anticipated conclusion to the “Dirty Suburbs”, a series of full-length stand-alone romantic comedies about the residents of small town Illinois.
HEA guaranteed. No cliffhangers. No cheating. Promise.
Frankly, I'm nervous. As much as I love him and I wish that we could be together, I'm a realist. We can't fix this so we need set clear rules for this juvenile game that we're playing.
But knowing Daniel Trotten, he's going to put up a fight. I brace myself for it as my eyes scan his text message.
Daniel: I’m coming over
My hands freeze. I feel fireworks in my belly and a little smile inching across my lips. I'm going to need some steel in my spine to go up against this charming bastard.
Daniel: We need to talk
Grace: Am I supposed to believe that you’re coming over here to JUST talk?
Daniel: Never said I want to JUST talk.
Daniel: That would be a boldface lie.
Daniel: I want to fuck you, darling. And then we’ll talk.
A shiver runs through me. I like very much the way that proposition sounds. But Isla’s warnings replay in my head. We can’t keep fooling around like teenagers. Like there are no consequences.
Grace: We talk FIRST and then we fuck.
It takes too long for his answer to come and for a second I worry that he may have changed his mind about all of it. Finally, my phone pings.
Daniel: Just get your pretty little ass ready. I’m on my way
My body tingles as I hurry into the bathroom and clean up. Swiping on a layer of deodorant and brushing my teeth, I ruminate on the fact that he’s disappointed me before. He’s promised to be there for me and cancelled at the last minute, prioritizing work over all else. Here I am opening my heart to him again. I know that I can’t trust him with my emotions. He’s proven that time after time.
I’m on high alert and my walls are all the way up as I open the door for him twenty minutes later.
“You look gorgeous,” he tells me as he brushes through the door, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it on the coat hook in the entrance.
I feel my neck heating up and I bite the corner of my lip, reminding myself that we need to have an actual conversation before I drop my panties and bend over this console table again.
He sweeps me up into his arms. Holding me close, he slides his lips over mine. He kisses me slow and languorous, making my brain swirl and my knees weak. His skin is cold and he smells like autumn and pheromones. I could get lost in this. My fingers clench around the fabric of his gray sweatshirt and his hand slides up my back, unsnapping the clasp of my bra.
With a soft slap to his chest, I take a step back. “Stop trying to seduce me. We need to talk first.” I try to speak in a stern voice but the smile on my face isn’t doing me any favors.
He groans. "I can think of a dozen activities that involve my mouth that are much more fun than talking. How does a nice, slow tongue-fuck sound?" He waggles his brows.
I barely manage to ward off a smile. What a jerk!
In The Series...
Dirty Neighbor (The Dirty Suburbs #1)
Dirty Player (The Dirty Suburbs #2)
Dirty Stranger (The Dirty Suburbs #3)
Dirty Favor (The Dirty Suburbs #4)
Dirty Lover (The Dirty Suburbs #5)
Dirty Farmer (The Dirty Suburbs #6)
Dirty Silver (The Dirty Suburbs #7)
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Cassie-Ann L. Miller writes steamy contemporary romance with a dash of angst and a sprinkle of humor. And if her toddler weren't rebelling against his bedtime right now, she'd have a minute to write her author biography, too ;)
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