Mistress Paige by Lacey Silks

Author:Lacey Silks [Silks, Lacey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-9917772-9-7
Publisher: MyLit Publishing

If you’d like to know how Colin’s wife deals with a loveless marriage, read Mistress Amber.

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This short story is part of the “My Reason To Cheat” collection which follows the lives of five unfaithful couples and can be purchased at a discount.

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Sneak Peak at My First, My Last

Chapter 1

It had been twenty years, almost to the day, since I’d seen him on the other side of the world. Literally. He lived in Europe, I lived in Toronto. So imagine my surprise when the man I’d lost my virginity to stood less than three feet away from me, in a bar, on my girls’ night out.

Somebody please pinch me!

With my mouth slightly open, I took him in: the same velvety smell of sandalwood, the same lopsided smile, the same green eyes, but definitely a different body. His rock solid form stretched the fabric over his skin. The piercing in his brow—well, that was new too, and hotter than hell. And that thorn tattoo peeking from under his short-sleeved shirt led my gaze to the biceps as I wondered what else he was hiding there. What other new curves had developed under his clothes? The lean posture in front of me was that of a mature, muscled, confident man; definitely not the way I remembered Adrian Reed from when we’d dated. Had it really been that long? And why exactly was my heart pounding, trying to break free from my ribcage? The cold and hot flashes hitting my chest and the sweat running down my back made me wonder whether menopause was knocking on my door. No, I was definitely too young for that.

Maybe it wasn’t him? It couldn’t be. I wasn’t a big drinker, but the two drinks I’d had tonight were perhaps playing with my mind. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but if what I saw was true – if this was Adrian – a simple skim of his fingers could crumble me to pieces.

“Hi, Thumbelina.”

Yup, it was him. No one else had called me by that nickname, ever. And with those two words, my whole world collapsed and rebuilt in an instant.

And no, Thumbelina wasn’t my name. My mother could be crazy at times, but she wasn’t that crazy. But for the love of God, why couldn’t I remember my name?

Speak! my brain ordered, but my mouth didn’t listen. I should have trusted my instinct that I’d recognize him even after ten drinks. After all, the only guys I’d dated after we’d separated had to smell like him or look like him or walk like him. That’s right—we’d separated, not broken up, because neither of us really wanted it, we’d had no choice. We lived on two different continents. Distance was an enemy neither of us had conquered, until now.

And now my first boyfriend, lover, and best friend was sitting in front of me, looking more gorgeous than I remembered.

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