His Vengeful Tradwife

8. Maverick

CHAPTER 8

Maverick

L ater that week I walked into my coworker James' office to hand him all my painstakingly compiled notes on the highest-profile case I'd ever been assigned to.

Ever since my boss found out that Amanda and I were having an affair, work has been excruciating.

I knew Mr. Perez was pissed, but I didn't expect him to take Amanda and I off a big ticket securities fraud case we'd been working on for nine goddamn months , or humiliate us in front of the entire office.

First, he called a mandatory, all-staff meeting to announce that Amanda and I were being taken off the case. Then, after a long and uncomfortable pause when everyone looked at us in stunned silence, he said he wanted to remind the entire office that unethical behavior was strictly forbidden and that sexual contact in our office space was both unhygienic and against company policy.

I thought we had been discreet, but the administrative assistant who loathed me and loved Tallulah must have somehow found out. The way Mr. Perez put it made it sound like we’d been fucking each other all over the company potato salad. And that meant everyone at work avoided us. I felt fucking radioactive .

James had been assigned to the case instead, and when I handed him the documents, the jackass smirked at me.

"Thanks for this, Maverick. You've done all the hard work already. What a pal."

I glared at him. "Fuck you."

James only smiled wider and emitted a grating high-pitched cackle. "I used to think you were the smartest guy in the office. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Guess you were just a dipshit who got lucky with a few easy cases."

Anger thrummed in my veins, but I ignored him, turning to go.

"Not even going to deny it? I guess you really can't, since it's obvious anyone who would divorce a goddess like Tallulah for some boring bitch like Amanda is a moron. But your loss is my gain."

I turned back in a fury.

"Stay the fuck away from my wife, James."

"Or what?" he asked cockily, putting his wingtips up on the desk and wiggling his eyebrows at me. “

"Or I'll fucking kill you," I snarled, rage pounding through me, tasting blood and iron in my mouth. I kicked James' chair, sending the other man tumbling over and onto the floor in an ungainly heap.

He began to curse me out, but I bit out my words over his complaints.

"I'm serious. If I see you anywhere near my property, I am going to break your fucking legs."

“Dumbass!” he yowled at me, but I knew he was too chickenshit to do anything about it.

Slamming the door behind me, I ran right into Amanda.

"What do you care if he's interested in Tallulah?" she asked, her eyes hard and accusatory.

She looked like she hadn’t slept well, her eyes red-rimmed, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail that emphasized how pinched her face looked.

I ignored the question, darting my eyes around.

"We shouldn't be seen together at work. We’re already probably going to get fired."

"You have a bunch of retirement stock paperwork at my place you need to pick up," Amanda said resentfully. "And what's your plan for fixing our retirement accounts now that they tanked?"

I didn't give a shit about her retirement, but I guessed I should go get the paperwork so I could figure out how to get out of the hole I'd dug for myself.

"Let's take out stock in Tallulah's main sponsor," Amanda added sullenly. "At least that's one thing she won't tank. I didn't think she was smart enough to do something like that. At least I know her sponsor money will be ours once you get divorced."

"Keep her name out of your mouth," I snapped harshly. "I'll come over after work. But I can only stay for a few minutes."

After going home to change, I went up to Tallulah as she moved easily around the kitchen in her little gingham dress and frilly apron.

She looked so cute, the way her dress was bouncy but still sexy, the shiny fabric clinging to the curves of her ass.

"I'm going to Amanda's," I said, desperately hoping she'd show a little jealousy.

Something to show she still gave a shit.

"Have fun," my wife said merrily, not even sparing me a glance as she babied her sourdough starter.

Fuck, now I was jealous of sourdough starter, because all I could think was,

She used to look at ME like that

" I won't be gone long," I added. "I promised Gabriel and Seraphina that I'd play soccer with them in the backyard this evening."

"OK!" Tallulah said perkily. "Be careful. At your age you could really throw your back out."

I headed over to Amanda's in a towering fury.

It used to be so fun to go over to her place after work, sneak in a quickie, then rush home in time for dinner. It was exciting.

But now the illicit thrill was gone.

Especially now that Tallulah took every opportunity to encourage me to go over to Amanda's.

The realization throbbed against me.

Surely it hadn't just been the thrill of it being forbidden? Right?

I wasn't the kind of cliche, stupid dumbass who had cheated on my wife and deluded myself into thinking it was true love when really I'd get bored of Amanda the moment my wife said, 'why don't you go over and see your little mistress'?

I had clearly been fooling myself.

What I thought was my great epic affair, a real love connection for the ages, had been over the moment Tallulah said "ok" when I told her I wanted a divorce.

I had been blind as fuck. I had wanted my wife to beg and plead, cry for me to stay. Tell me she couldn't live without me, that she couldn't survive without me.

I never guessed, after adoring me for so many years, she'd shrug .

That little shrug of hers replayed over and over again in my memory, and it was worse each time, the blow deeper, more cutting, each time.

Tallulah didn't need me at all.

I had never felt worse in my life when I went to Amanda's apartment and picked up my retirement account paperwork.

My life was in a fucking shambles. I was buried twelve feet under the ground. And the person who had dug every single stupid inch and dove headfirst into being a dipshit was me. Instead of being at the peak of my career and the prime of my life, with a healthy 401K and a wife who adored me, I was now a pariah at work, had no retirement account, and had to sleep down the hall from my own wife who now hated me.

"Come fuck me, Maverick," Amanda said, her voice low and sultry.

She walked over to the couch and threw off her top and skirt, shimmying out of her panties until they were a puddle on the floor.

Then she climbed on the couch and bent over, spreading her cheeks for me so I could see her asshole, puckered and ready for me.

"You haven't fucked me in so long," she whined. "C'mon, please please pleaseeeeeeeee. I need that big cock in me. Come be a naughty naughty boy."

Bile rose in my throat as I looked at her. The sight of her puckered asshole and wet pussy made me want to vomit.

The sound of her whining voice made me want to gouge holes in the wall.

I must have had a fucking 6-month bout of insanity, because I had no fucking clue why I had thrown away my marriage for this whiny petulant money-grubbing bitch.

"No," I said.

She turned around, her eyes narrowed, dipping her fingers in her pussy.

"Don't tell me Tallulah is right that your vigorous days are behind you," she spat, humping her hand.

I felt a raw surge of fury to hear her mention my wife's name.

It wasn't remotely true. Because I knew if that was Tallulah on the couch in front of me, her thighs spread wide for me, I would have pole-fucking-vaulted over to howl as I sunk my cock inside her.

"No," I snapped. "I just don't see anything on display at the moment that particularly interests me."

Amanda's face darkened with anger.

"Whatever," she spat. "If you don't want to fuck me I guess you can stay and watch me fuck myself."

"No," I said, turning on my heel and headed out the door. "I'm going home."

The whole way back I was debating the most dignified way of telling Tallulah I had made a mistake.

When I got there, the kids were finishing up the last 15 minutes of a movie in the other room and Tallulah was canning pickles on the kitchen table.

"I'll take them all outside after that's done," I said. "Emmylou can go in the swing while I play soccer."

"OK," my wife said as she lined the jars up neatly.

"I didn't have sex with Amanda," I added into the stillness.

Tallulah flicked a disinterested glance over me, then turned away.

"Too bad," she said. "But it happens to a lot of men in your age bracket, you know. Better luck next time, tiger."

With one furious swipe, I knocked all her jars off the table, shattering them on the floor around me in an ear-splitting crash.

" Will you fucking look at me ?" I roared.

Then I was grabbing my wife and pressing her up against the counter, loving the feel of her soft curves under my hands.

"Don't give me that shit , Tallulah. It was barely two weeks ago I was fucking you right here in the kitchen and I didn't hear you complaining about how old I am then."

I knew she couldn't possibly miss how turned-on I was, how my cock, so limp and flaccid where Amanda was concerned, was now rock-hard and throbbing, digging into her soft little belly.

Two goddamn weeks ago she wouldn't have been able to resist me. She never could. All I had to do was lift a finger or pull her onto my lap, and her lips would be on mine, her legs wrapped around my waist.

I wanted that back so badly

My eyes burned as they bore into hers, my breath ragged and harsh in my chest.

" Tallulah, I’m sorry ”

Why had I ever thought I could live without my wife?

I was going to fucking die being apart from her like this, shut out from her smiles, her kisses, her warmth, her love. Not having her was like getting denied air and water. I was starving without her.

For a moment I thought I saw her heartbeat race in her elegant neck, a hitch of her breath as I pressed against her lush, opulent curves, the precum soaking my pants.

Her plump pink lips parted, and I felt my cock throbbing in my pants, fucking aching to be inside her.

I leaned forward eagerly.

Was she going to say she loved me?

That she forgave me?

"Hold on," she said, reaching her hand up under her thick fall of auburn hair to click on a little earbud I hadn't noticed. "My ex is making noise so I can't hear you."

Then she tossed her hair so that it fell all over my arm, sending delicious waves of scent searing through me, that mouth-watering mix of savory cooking, a touch of sugar, dandelions from the yard, and that magnetic pull that made her such a sensual unforgettable woman.

"Do you mind?" she said coldly, wrenching herself out of my arms and turning away, leaving me with a pounding heart and cock and wondering how I was going to fix this.

Trying to find a dignified way to tell her I had made a mistake was impossible. She ignored or misinterpreted all my hints. When I tried to touch her or kiss her, she shrugged me off and repeated Amanda's phone number to me.

Until one night I heard her voice, husky, sweet as honey, on the phone with Austin and the memory I had been trying so hard to repress roared over me.

My wife in another man’s truck, her plush pink lips around another man’s cock. My gut burned with impotent rage and fury at how his hands had been stroking her hair and I had to sit in my car and listen to Amanda wail and cry about our retirement accounts.

I didn’t give a shit about them. I would drain my account now if she’d forgive me.

And now he was planning to take her on vacation? Fucking never . She was my wife and I wanted things back how they were.

I raged at her, grabbing her phone and throwing it down the stairway until I heard it shatter. My knees buckled as I fell to the ground before her.

Then, instead of a dignified way of informing her that I did not wish to proceed with a divorce, I was begging, pleading with her to give us another chance.

“I made a mistake. I love you so much, baby. All I want is you , and I’m sorry. So sorry,” I insisted.

But nothing I said moved her.

Feeling desperation claw at my heart, I clutched at her legs.

"I don't give a shit about Amanda! I don’t want to be with her and I sure as shit don't want to take her on our family cruise."

"Too late," Tallulah said blithely. "I've already reserved her a ticket. Prices for this luxury cruise are very expensive in the summer, Maverick. And I don't think she could pay me back to replace it. Not after her recent unfortunate money troubles. So sad.”

" I'll pay you back," I said. "We haven't told the kids yet. We haven't told our parents yet. We can undo this."

She gave me a hard little look, making my stomach plummet. " It can't be undone ."

"It can be," I insisted, fighting to keep the raw panic from my voice. "I'm so fucking sorry, baby. All I want is for things to go back the way they used to be."

Her jaw clicked together angrily and she suddenly gripped my face tightly, her hand stretched as far as it could reach across my jawline.

" It can't just be undone . You cheated on me. You broke a promise, Maverick. You promised on our wedding day that you would always love me and always protect me. Well, you didn't. You failed. And I've decided to protect myself, since you can't fucking do it."

"No--" I croaked. "No--"

But she stepped back and shut the door in my face, gently, so it wouldn't wake the kids, and I lay on the floor for a long time.

Unable to get up. Unable to figure out how to fix this fucking mess.

I was expecting a torturous week of having to watch Tallulah and Austin wrapped around each other, so I was pleased to see my wife by herself as we boarded the cruise.

"Where is Austin?" I hissed resentfully.

"Oh, he had to work this week," she said. "Besides, we're only casual. Don't worry about me , sweetie, I'm sure I'll contrive to find someone I can play doubles tennis with."

"You said you were going to marry him!" I said accusingly, happy to finally get a point on her.

Was she finally thawing?

I would have literally stalked Tallulah’s wedding and thrown her in a sack to prevent her from walking down the aisle, but I was pleased that she didn't actually care for him that much.

"Well, we can't all have a serious extramarital affair like you, Maverick," she laughed. "I want to experience as much casual, no strings attached sex as I can while I'm single. And I've seen a lot of very attractive men on this ship."

My throat closed with horror, but the kids were too close for me to say anything else.

I lived every day in agony that she would announce that we were going to tell our children that we were divorcing. They would ask questions, and I wouldn't know what to tell them.

Your dad is a dumbass

Don't be like me

Tallulah checked the kids into the kids' camp childcare on board.

"Let's go meet the rest of the family," she said brightly, leading Amanda and I into one of the big staterooms our parents were staying in.

I knew it was coming, but I still felt an ache in my chest when I saw my parents. Dr. and Dr. Laurent were both university professors, my dad in psychology and my mom in gender studies, both of them tall and severe and dark-haired and very French.

And they both loved Tallulah.

Tallulah's dad and stepmom were here, too, her dad Dale was a tall shaggy gray-haired man in jeans and a T-shirt, and her stepmom Becky, a friendly cozy woman with curly blonde hair.

"Mom and Dad, Mama and Papa," Tallulah began, and my heart sunk inside me.

This couldn't be happening

I didn't want this

It was like a nightmare I couldn't stop.

"Maverick has something he wants to tell you."

I was already shaking my head, panic rising to choke me.

No.

No.

I didn't want this!

They all stared expectantly at me.

"What is it, son?" Tallulah's dad asked me kindly.

I couldn't make my lips say the words.

"And who is this?" Tallulah's stepmom asked. "You a friend, honey?"

I felt Amanda vibrating with anger beside me. "You haven't told them about me?" she hissed angrily.

But I didn't give a fuck about her, and I knew I never really had.

When I said nothing, merely stood there with my eyes burning, Tallulah finally spoke.

"She's his mistress. Maverick is divorcing me."

Time stood still, my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I stared at my family. Her parents both looked shocked, sad, and disappointed. I thought I would die with shame at the flash of anger I saw in Dale's eyes. He had always been such a good father-in-law, always coming over to babysit if Tallulah and I wanted to go out to dinner, or coming over to help me when I did any home improvement project.

Now he would fucking hate me, and I couldn't blame him.

My mouth started to form the words

No no I don't want this

She's making me do this

It's the last fucking thing I want

Then I turned my eyes to my own parents. Their faces had gone white with horror, my mother mouthing a particularly vile French curse.

And then my 72-year-old father stalked toward me, pulling off his elegant leather gloves, and slapped me firmly in the face with one.