Mistress In My Closet

Summary

My husband kept a mistress in the walk-in closet.

Every night, she’d creep out after midnight, giggling, and slink onto the bed.

Two bodies, unrestrained in the darkness.

I, the oblivious wife sleeping beside them, would occasionally cough.

Instead of being deterred, Callan Ashford found it exhilarating. The thrill of the forbidden would send shivers through him, pushing him trembling toward his peak.

Afterward, my so-called best friend, Blair, would dig her heel viciously into my face.

“Look at her,” she’d sneer, her voice low and venomous. “She sleeps like a tranquilized hog.”