He Sent a Stand-In to My Bed, So I Stole His Heir

My husband wouldn't touch me. Three years, and he was saving himself for his old flame.

Every night, he'd slip a blindfold over my eyes.

Then he'd say he needed a shower first—just give him a minute to get ready.

The man who came back was never him. It was a midnight stand-in, someone Curt had hired just for me.

I pretended not to know. But this time, I caught the man's wrist before he could reach for protection.

“Leave it.”

I pressed myself against him and kissed his lips.

“Let's have a baby instead, husband.”

His breathing turned heavy, and he gave in fast.