I Hired A Masseur Hotter Than My Husband To Make Him Jealous

I was fucking done.

For years, Mark had been parading around with these young, sexy secretaries with their tight dresses, fake tits, and flirty laughs. Every time I complained, he gave me the same bullshit line: “Baby, nothing is happening. You’re being paranoid.”

Yet he came home late almost every night smelling like expensive perfume and pussy.

Tonight I was going to make him feel exactly what I’ve been feeling.

My best friend Lena had found the perfect weapon: Jax.

6’5”, deep olive skin, eight-pack abs, thick muscular arms, and a cocky smirk that screamed “I will ruin...