His Vengeful Tradwife

6. Maverick

CHAPTER 6

Maverick

I was fucking fuming in the kitchen.

Since fucking when did Tallulah look at me like that? With utter contempt and indifference? My friends and family had always said she was the perfect wife: great body, beautiful, loved sex, never turned me down, amazing cook, wonderful mother, kind, generous.

Even my parents, who were a pair of notoriously bitchy and snobby French professors, loved her.

Shit , I reminded myself, running my hands through my hair, I'd have to tell them soon, wouldn't I ?

I thought I'd be supporting her through this divorce. Letting her cry on my shoulder. Gently convincing her that it was better this way. After all, we really didn't have much in common, did we? All this back to nature shit she was into was ridiculous. She had always been an amazing cook, but doing shit like harvesting your own birdseed and hand-weaving your own toilet paper was dumb as fuck.

Amanda was right that I wasn’t being appreciated at home, that I deserved someone my intellectual equal.

My phone buzzed, and I looked down to see that it was Amanda herself.

Everyone asleep? she texted.

Want to call me? Look at what I'm wearing

A picture appeared on my screen. Amanda lying in her bed in black silk lingerie and high heels, her back arched, her thighs spread open so I could see her shaved pussy laid open in front of me.

But I was too pissed-off at Tallulah to respond, and I jammed the phone in my pocket and headed up the stairs two at a time.

Tallulah's door was shut and I went and rattled the doorknob, as loudly as I could without risking waking the kids.

"Open this door!" I hissed at her.

When she didn't answer I rattled the doorknob again, tapping rapidly with my knuckles so she couldn't ignore me.

"I'm not fucking going away!" I warned her, and when she finally opened it, she gave me a big yawn, like she'd been sleeping.

Tallulah’s hair was falling down all over her shoulders in messy auburn curls, and she was wearing a tiny silk nightie that barely covered her ass.

“We need to talk,” I growled at her. I had never seen this nightie before, and it was so sheer I could see the outline of her heavy, lush breasts, the pert little nipples showing so clearly I could see the dusky pink color on each one.

"Go to sleep, you moron!" she said. "If you wake up the kids I am literally going to skin you alive."

"Tallulah--" I began again, grabbing her arm, but she wasn't as sleepy as I thought, immediately kicking me in the shins.

"Hands off, Maverick!" she snapped, her eyes blazing at me.

"I just want to talk--" I started, but she cut me off again.

"If this is about Austin, no, I'm not talking about it. He's younger, he's hotter, he can fuck longer than you. Get over it. Now go to bed or I'll call him back for round two."

And she turned and shut the door in my face, but not before I got a flash of her bare ass as she flounced away.

I went to the guest room in a towering rage.

Flinging myself on the bed, I realized my cock was uncomfortably hard.

I hadn't actually been able to go to Amanda’s place and have sex with her since I told Tallulah it was over.

I should call her like she wanted, but I was in such a rage I didn't feel like it. I took out the picture she had sent me and pulled my cock from my sweatpants, stroking the aching length as I let my eyes linger over Amanda's revealing lingerie and the long sweep of her legs.

But Tallulah was the one I saw, the way she looked when she came to the door, her perky pink nipples very visible against the sheer fabric.

Why had I never seen that nightie? Why was she buying all these new clothes? So she could fuck other men, I suppose, I thought viciously.

Goddamn it

I zoomed in on Amanda's picture, trying to focus on her taut, athletic body, my hand pumping up and down on my cock.

But it didn't fucking work.

It was Tallulah in my mind, the way she had looked, the way she had smelled, that light elegant scent she used, the way one sleepy creamy thigh rubbed against the other.

What I had always done to her when she’d flounced away before, how I had always picked her up and thrown her on the bed as she squealed in delight. How she had arched her back and spread her thighs wide for me to sink into her with a growl.

Why the fuck couldn't I get her out of mind?

Just because she hadn't reacted to my announcement like I had expected she would?

After all, I was happy to be getting a divorce.

So why shouldn't she be?

Somehow I didn't like that, didn't like it at all.

Shaking my head, my hand on my cock grew increasingly frenzied. I flicked feverishly through my other pictures of Amanda. Tiny booty shorts, a shot up her dress, her tits smashed together, sucking her finger like it was my dick, blowing me a kiss, her mouth open as she pressed a dildo deep in her pussy.

Nothing. My dick was unmoved.

Fuck.

Tallulah appeared in my mind again, the way she had ground down on that shithead in the truck, the way her hips had undulated sensually.

I knew exactly what it felt like with her on my lap, and it was incredible.

Of course, the problem had never been our sexual chemistry.

I just hadn't gotten used to seeing her as my ex -wife yet.

My release was immediately sizzling up my spine at how my fingers had felt on her skin, the way undoing her dress had brought back that familiar rush of lust.

I dropped my dick like it burned. I was not going to let Tallulah get under my skin like that. I was not going to sit here and jerk off to thinking about her creamy breasts, the way those little pink nipples tasted under my tongue.

Amanda, now she was very nice in bed, too. Very, very nice. She had some very nice moves, too, that I would be able to recall quite clearly if I could get the image of my ex’s breasts, hips, and ass out of my head.

I lay on my side fucking fuming, my dick dripping precum all over my sheets, as I gritted my teeth and tried to think about anything but Tallulah.

I slept like shit but I woke up determined that today would go better.

Amanda came over in the morning, full of perky and bright-eyed energy.

I must have just been drunk last night. Amanda and I had everything in common. Besides, she really appreciated me. We both loved golf and tennis, matched each other's intellectual energy.

After breakfast, Amanda and the kids headed for our aboveground pool and I tried to focus on Amanda, how much I loved her. How great she looked in her black bikini.

But then why the fuck did my eyes keep going back to where Tallulah was working in the back fields in her dirty, filthy overalls?

"How did Tallulah take it when you told her?" Amanda asked me in a low tone as we got out.

Gabriel and Seraphina were playing with our dog Odie while I pushed Emmylou in the swing.

"Did she cry? Beg you to stay?" she asked eagerly.

I found it hard to meet her bright eyes. Because after everything I had told her about how I felt too guilty to divorce Tallulah, how it would be way too hard on my wife, how devotedly she loved and adored me, what had Tallulah done?

Shrugged, goddamn shrugged , when I told her I wanted a divorce, and taken five seconds to get on some young himbo's cock.

And she could get 50 himbos to fuck, I thought angrily. Men had always gone crazy for her.

I thought my jealous days were behind me. After all, what was there to be jealous about when my wife had eyes only for me, and ignored all other men?

"Why do you keep looking at her?" Amanda asked sharply.

I felt irritated as fuck.

"I'm not looking at anyone."

But I was, my eyes unwillingly glued on where my wife was bending over her vegetable garden. She only had on a little tank top under her overalls, and the strap had fallen down her arm.

I wanted to go over there, slide my finger under the strap, peel Tallulah out of those overalls and bend her over the fence. . .

"And why do you still have your ring on?" Amanda hissed, trying to pull it off.

I ripped my hand out of her grasp.

"Are you going to nag me all day?" I snapped at her. "I'm not ready to take it off yet. You know how our boss is. He's so obsessed with the importance of being a good family man and he LOVES Tallulah. I don't want him to find out we're getting divorced until he makes us partners."

"If you're sure that's all it is," Amanda said, crossing her arms over her chest, and I glared at her.

"What exactly are you fucking suggesting?" I snarled.

"I'm not suggesting anything, I'm noticing you've barely taken your eyes off your ex the whole time I've been here!" she shot at me, angry spots of color in her cheeks.

I felt unreasonable rage boil inside me. I was trying to pay attention to Amanda and her story about how the coffee shop hadn’t gotten her order of a matcha sprinkle latte with grass-fed goat’s milk right that morning. It’s just that Tallulah was infuriating me. I forced my voice to stay calm.

"Let's take the kids inside and put Emmylou down for her nap," I said through gritted teeth, dragging my eyes away from my wife.

"Can it be a six-hour nap?" Amanda snarked at me as we walked inside, which pissed me off because they’d been nothing but nice to her.

"Feel free to go home," I snapped at her. "I'm enjoying time with the kids."

What the fuck had gotten into us? Amanda and I never fought.

And why wasn't this any fun together? Parenting together with Tallulah had been fun. Maybe not every minute, like when everyone caught the projectile vomiting flu, but way more fun than not.

"I'll stay for a little bit," Amanda shrugged. "Until I get bored. I can't wait until next weekend, though."

Emmylou fell asleep easily enough after playing in the pool all morning, and Gabriel and Seraphina went to play in the LEGO room.

I slumped, exhausted, onto the couch.

Amanda cuddled beside me, but all she wanted to talk about was money.

"Does she know yet that you get access to all her sponsor money for five years?" she asked gleefully. "Or hasn't someone explained it to her yet?"

I felt a little stab of guilt. Fuck, my goal with the divorce wasn't taking Tallulah's money.

"Shut up," I said shortly.

"The beauty of it is, since you're a lawyer, there's nothing she can do about it!" Amanda caroled, way too loudly. "You've got her by the balls, no matter which way you look at it."

"Shut up !" I snapped again, but I was distracted by the sight of someone coming in the driveway.

If this was that shithead from last night, back for more, I was going to wring his fucking neck . . .

Tallulah breezed by us, and I jerked around.

Fuck, had she heard us talking?

I noticed she had showered and changed out of her overalls and into a pair of very tiny tight shorts and a tank top, the shirt straining to hold her heavy breasts.

"Don't you look darling?" Amanda cooed. "Darling, you're taking this so well."

I shifted uncomfortably. I did not want to be reminded of how well Tallulah was taking the divorce. Like she never gave a shit about me in the first place.

"It's easy to take things well when I'm knee-deep in younger and more vigorous dick," Tallulah said merrily. "You wouldn't know anything about that, though. I'm sorry to tell you Maverick's vigorous years are all behind him, honey."

She was lying; I knew she was! And somehow I was going to force my wife to admit that.

Then she opened the door and I was gobsmacked to see that dipshit James from work enter my home. And the glance he gave Tallulah, sliding up and down her body, lingering on her big tits and the way the shorts barely covered her ass, filled me with murderous rage.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked, striding over to stand by her.

"He's here to give me legal advice," Tallulah said.

"Yeah, have to make sure this little lady doesn't get taken to the cleaners by you , Maverick," James said in his irritating jovial manner.

"I'm going to give you five seconds to get out of this house--" I began, when my cellphone rang.

I glanced down to see that it was my stockbroker and hit ignore. But Horace called again, and then again, and I picked up irritably.

"What? Now is not a good time!"

"What the fuck is happening over there?" Horace screeched in my ear. "Your retirement account is literally disappearing in front of my eyes like sand in a motherfucking glass !"

"What's that about our retirement accounts?" Amanda yelped. Since I knew more about the stock market than she did, our accounts and stocks were virtually identical. I had put most of our money in a skincare company that was very popular and seemed to have a lot of fans on social media. I thought it was a very clever investment, if I said so myself. . .

"Can you sell?" I asked, motioning to Amanda to check the stock market app. "Stem the loss?

"No way! It's a bloody murder scene!" Horace yelled. "Wall Street is in shambles ! They've had to stop trading early! Did you do something to piss your wife off?"

My wife?

" Stop the numbers!" Amanda wailing, jabbing her thumb ineptly at the screen. "Make them stop Maverick!"

She began to wail and shriek.

Had she always been this much of a fucking whiny bitch? I couldn't even concentrate on how to fix this with Amanda screaming hysterically in my ear.

"It's something she said on one of her lives," Horace said.

Amanda's shriek of rage rattled around my skull as I quickly pulled up Tallulah's TikTok.

I remembered that she had never liked this skincare company, telling me she suspected they tested on animals. At the time I had waved her off. What did my little homemaker wife know about business after all?

Tallulah's face and body filled the frame. It wasn't a very long video, only about 2 minutes and 55 seconds long. But she didn't need that long to give her opinion of their skincare products. It was a 2 minute and 55 second long rant and I watched it as the bottom dropped out of my retirement accounts and any hope of retiring before age 150 vanished.

"It's my opinion," she ended, "that anyone who ends up actually using this skincare is going to end up as a crusty dusty bitch far before they should."

"Fix this!" Amanda and Horace wailed in both of my ears.

"I'll fix it, I'll fix it," I said numbly, wondering what the fuck I was going to do, when Tallulah came up in front of me.

"Gosh, was it something I said?" she asked.

Then her hand shot out and she grabbed my testicles, twisting them both in her hand.

"Looks like I've got you by the balls, Maverick," she said sweetly.

And all I could think was

What is my wife capable of?

What have I done to my formerly perfect and happy life?