Urban Cowgirl 2.2E

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My anger swells up the instant I see Peter’s face. It drowns out everything, even the residual bliss from my shower with James.

“It is not a good idea to talk to me right now,” I hiss. I make for the bedroom, my now least favorite place in the world, but Peter stands in front of me.

“I think we should talk about last night,” he says.

“There’s nothing to talk about, asshole!” I snap. I push past him and enter the bedroom. I go to my walk-in closet and tug down a suitcase.

“Ashley, please,” Peter pleads. He follows me into the closet. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting my stuff so I can get as far away from you as possible.” I grab some essential wardrobe pieces and shove them into my suitcase.

“Now, just hang on a second,” Peter grabs my forearms and holds me in front of him so I have to look him in the eye. He’s going to say something else but stops and takes a deep inhale. “You smell like old liquor and men’s body wash. Why?” He demands.

“After you decided to screw someone in our bed, I went out and found someone who could give me a proper fucking.” I get right in his face as I say it. A smug smile spreads across my lips. I want him to hurt as badly as he hurt me last night. The shock on his face tells me I’ve accomplished that goal.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?” He released his grip on my shoulders so roughly that I stumble back a step. “How could you do something like that?” I throw my head back and laugh.

“Are you seriously asking that? You’re such a goddamn hypocrite,” I sneer. I go back to packing my favorite wardrobe pieces into the suitcase. “I’m moving out, you sociopath.”

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