TANGLED IN THE PLAYBOY'S BED
“I am sorry, Mr. Thomas, but I am married—"
"To an asshole," Thomas interrupted, his voice dripping with disdain.
My eyes flashed with anger. "To my husband," I corrected.
Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Your husband doesn't know or care that you're crying because he's in there flirting with another woman."
My face burned with shame. "He's just socializing," I defended, frustration betraying my words
Thomas snorted. "By trying to get into her pants." He smirked, moving closer while I retreated, the space between us shrinking with every step.
"I am sorry, Mr. Thomas, but my marital life is none of your business."
"Only I can decide that." He said, his smirk twisting into a
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