His Vengeful Tradwife

14. Tallulah

CHAPTER 14

Tallulah

" D arling!" she said, addressing Maverick, of course.

"Can you make us some tea?" I interrupted before she had a chance to slobber all over him.

The new Lady Winterborne was a beautiful woman in her early 50s, with the same long auburn hair and creamy skin as I had, and she had been a fairly well-known chef before her retirement, cooking exclusively for wealthy and established clients, and she did not think anything I did was worthy of being mentioned in the same breath as her own work.

While I was the embarrassing child who cooked for mere commoners on her Tiktok channel (she thought no one below the rank of Duke of Buckingham was worth mentioning), Maverick had always been the absolute apple of her eye.

My husband disappeared into the kitchen to make the tea, and I eyed my mother and her new husband, the much-older Lord Winterborne. He had a face like a fish, with sparse gray hairs, and a perpetually disgusted sneer on his lips.

"Tallulah, darling, it's been a while since I've seen you. And I see you've gained a little weight," she added, flashing gleaming too-big veneers at me. "You're a little too old to pull off the chubby look, aren't you?"

"What are you doing here?" I asked bluntly. "Did Satan finally turn you out of hell?"

"Well, I never!" Lord Winterborne sputtered. "Shouldn't you be asking us to sit down?"

He looked around in disgust at our comfortably messy living room. "If, of course, there is a clean space. I forgot you had children . Ew. I don't want to sit in applesauce."

Mom's ruby-red lips stretched over those big teeth.

"I have been hearing such nonsensical rumors about you that I had to determine for myself if they were true or not."

"Rumors like what?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Going on a cruise ship?" my mother asked, in the same tone you might say 'ate a worm.'

"And with your father ?" she added, stroking the arms of her tight-fitting white gown. "I know you're related, but darling, he's terribly tacky."

"I can't see any applesauce, but I am still afraid to sit down," Lord Winterborne burbled from the other room, but I ignored him.

"Keep Dad out of this," I shot at her. "I won't allow you to insult him in front of me. Yes, I went on a cruise with Dad, Becky, and my in-laws. The rumors are true. You can go home and back to bathing in the blood of virgins now."

"Your in-laws?" Mom huffed jealously. "They won't return my calls but they're going on vacations with your father?"

"Yes," I said, taking her arm and trying to propel her to the front door. "And they even like him. Much better than they like you. Now please take your little friend in there and leave now."

"That's not all," she protested. "I even heard rumors you were thinking of leaving Maverick ."

"Yes," I said, "I have been debating whether or not to stay with him."

Her jaw dropped. " Maverick ? He's the best thing to ever happen to you, foolish girl. You'd be nothing without him."

Suddenly, my husband appeared in the doorway to the living room, two steaming cups of hot tea in his hands. "That's not true," he said harshly, a frown on his handsome face. "Tallulah doesn't need me. I'm begging her to keep me. But she doesn't need me. She is a big success without me."

"Begging?" my mom cried, recoiling in horror.

"He cheated," I said. "He had a whole mistress. He said he wanted a divorce."

I felt bitter gall rise in my throat. Would it always feel like this? There was bitterness inside me that needed to come out.

Mom waved her hand around impatiently, the gold and diamond bracelets on her wrist clinking together.

"Tallulah," she sniffed impatiently. "You have to make allowances for a man who looks like he does. He could cheat on you with a hundred different women, so you may call me old-fashioned, dear, but I think having only one mistress is rather restrained."

"Indeed," Lord Winterborne said from the living room, finally sitting down on the very edge of our sofa and looking with loathing at a stuffed duck.

"I didn't mean you ," she shot at him.

"So you think there should be some kind of 'I'm handsome' exception to cheating?" I said irritably.

" You must have done something," she insisted. "Perhaps you didn't lose the baby weight fast enough. Perhaps you didn't pay him enough attention."

I felt the retort flash hot on my cheeks, but then Maverick was stalking into the room and hauling Lord Winterborne up by the collar.

"Get out, both of you. I'm not going to let you say those things about Tallulah. She was not to blame at all. And her body has always been fucking perfect ."

He kicked the door open impatiently as Lord Winterborne began to wail and flail ineffectively about.

"Maverick, Maverick , I'm trying to defend you against Tallulah's ridiculous hysterics!" Mom cried.

And even though my mother had been literally the only person who had sympathized with him or taken his side since the affair became public, my husband shook his head definitively.

"No. It was my mistake and on my head alone. Feeling neglected or whatever bullshit I tried to justify it with was not an excuse for what I did."

She squawked unhappily.

I opened the door and made a whistling sound.

And our beautiful plump pink pigs, happily eating corn, nosed their way out of the gate and started trotting happily over, expecting even more treats.

"You better go," I said, "Or I'll set the pigs on you and let them chew up those expensive stilettos you've got on."

"You're the absolute worst, Tallulah!" my mother shrieked. "Roger, let's go!"

And Maverick released Lord Winterborne, and the two of them scuttled back to their Rolls-Royce and got the hell out of there.

Maverick looked troubled as we got in our truck and went to get the kids.

"I hope you don't think your mom was right," he said. "There is no excuse for what I did and you are not to blame in any way. I'm so goddamn sorry I put you through this."

My phone buzzed and I glanced down at it.

Congratulations on 40 million followers

He had done it. As we pulled into Dad's driveway, I held up my phone wordlessly.

Maverick's face was transformed with joy, his eyes crinkled up with pleasure and hope.

"I--looks you like you did it. You can have a second chance," I said.

"Yes!" Maverick cried exultingly. His eager lips covered mine, his hand tangling in my unbound hair. "I love you so much."

His kissed me so hard my lips ached, his hand reaching forward to wrap around my waist, pull me ever-closer.

"Don't you love me?" he asked.

I hesitated. That bitter-gall feeling was still sitting like a weight in my gut. I had to get it out somehow. Or it wouldn't really be a second chance.

"I'm not quite there yet," I said.

"I--understand that," he said haltingly. "I'm just--so ready, baby. Whenever you are."

The disappointment was written clearly all over his face, but I couldn't help it. I wasn't quite there yet. I wasn't quite ready to fully open my heart to my husband again. . .

Maverick had done all that I had asked of him.

But something still held me back, something kept me from fully opening up. It was the anger that coiled in my belly, spread through each limb like a living, feral thing, electric power of my anger spreading even to my fingertips.

How could I get it out? Was it even possible?

The next day, Dad came over to get the kids and I buckled them into the carseats. He handed everyone a little bag of goldfish and a juice box and then moved around to the front.

"I've got something to tell you," I said, tears prickling at the corner of my eyes. "I just hit 40 million subscribers on my TikTok channel."

"Honey, that's amazing!" he enthused, grinning at me. "You're a superstar."

"I wanted to say that I really appreciate all the ways you've supported me, all the ways you've loved the kids. You and Becky. I just bought out your entire mortgage, Dad. It's all clear and paid for. Hell, I love you so much I bought up the three houses around you, too. Now you can work on all those crazy additions you've always wanted to. The three-story treehouse for your grandkids. You don't have to work anymore if you don't want to."

The tears sprang to his blue eyes then and he pulled me into a quick hug.

"This is--this is too much, girlie. You didn't have to do this."

"I know I didn't. I wanted to."

"Thank you," he said gruffly. "I love you so much and I'm so proud of you. Take a day off, honey," he whispered in my ear. "You work so hard. Take a day off and relax."

"OK, Dad," I said, waving as he drove off to take my feral children to a safari park for a few hours. "I'll try."

Then I walked over to the barn where my husband was in his jeans and a T-shirt scrubbing out the chicken coop.

"In the mood for some fencing?" I asked.

He turned around, his hands deep in the soapy suds as several chickens pecked hopefully around his big boots, anxious for the corn they knew was in his pockets.

"Of course," he said. "I'd love that."

We went to the storage shed and both suited up in the traditional fencing gear: tips for our long, sharp blades and a helmet for extra safety.

Maverick's shadow fell over me as he carefully adjusted my helmet, and I remembered the first time I had seen him.

I was only planning on doing some college homework at the park, but my eyes were drawn by the fencing club practice. There was one man there. . .

He was very tall, very dark-haired, powerful arms and shoulders, his shirt plastered to his chest in the summer heat.

He looked dark, heated, passionate, and a little bit toxic.

He looked like mine .

There were a few other women there, watching him disable each opponent. Because who wouldn't watch him?

He was gorgeous, magnetic, fucking impossible to keep your eyes off of.

And I walked right up, grabbed a helmet, and faced him.

I won him that day, won every single heated, passionate inch of him.

And I had never had any intention of letting him go easily. He wouldn't be allowed to betray me without paying him back tenfold.

I knew how to get vengeance, how to take everything away from Maverick.

Did I know how to give anything back to him?

We tapped our blades and then circled each other, my husband's big body, broad chest, just as imposing as he had been that first day. I wasn't afraid of him then and I wasn't afraid now.

I made a sharp sideways move and then lunged with my saber.

Maverick had to move quickly to parry my thrust. I jerked my saber back and lunged again, at his other side.

Our blades clashed again, the sound loud and discordant in the quiet of the farm.

Sweat began to trickle down my back as I let my anger and rage flow through me, instead of bottling it up.

" Fuck you , Maverick. Fuck you for what you did! You wanted to hurt me. The person you swore to care for the most."

"I'm so sorry," he said. "What can I do to make it better?"

"Maybe nothing," I yelled viciously, striking him on the side, the blunt tip the only thing between me and slicing open his gut.

I felt like a whirlwind, letting the anger flow through me, letting it crackle through each cell and fiber of my body. It felt powerful, I felt powerful. The rage sizzled through my skull, white-hot fury as all my old skill came back to me, lunging over and over again, our blades clanging louder and louder, the sound rising higher and higher.

I saw Maverick meet my eyes through our masks, and he suddenly ripped off his protective gear and knelt on the ground.

I pointed my blade at his throat.

"I yield," he said.

His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, across the strong cheekbones, sweat running down his jaw.

"Get up," I said.

"Do it," he countered, reaching up and yanking the protective tip off my saber.

"You want me to stab you in the throat?" I asked uncomprehendingly.

"Take what you need to forgive me," Maverick growled, yanking the blade closer. "I don't care what I have to give up. I will do it, Tallulah. I need your love this badly. I want you this badly."

I only stared at my husband as he yanked his shirt open to show his strong tanned throat.

"Right here," he said, trying to jab the blade into his throat. "Take my blood."

Now this was melodramatic and gothic as fuck and he couldn't possibly mean it. . .

And he drew the blade across his throat in a shallow slice.

"Please," he said. "I'm not going anywhere, Tallulah. Slit my throat if you have to. Only forgive me afterwards. Love me back."

My breath caught in my throat and I just stared at him as the blood sprung to his tanned skin, my fury finally spent and finished.

It felt better out, it felt damn good for my anger to be fully out of me.

"I love you too," I said, watching at the feral light that shone in his dark eyes and he stood up suddenly, knocking the blade away from his throat with an impatient big hand so it clattered noisily on the ground. Then he tore at my mask and gear, rending through them in his effort to get to me.

Then he was pressing me up against the side of the barn, ripping my pants off impatiently, big, dark, and irresistible.

And he bent down between my thighs, his broad shoulders forcing me wide, and he spread my pussy with one big hand and buried his face between my legs.

I squealed with pleasure, his tongue sure and confident, going instantly to where I needed him, the exact pressure I needed as he growled with the thrill of possessing me.

"I can do it better than forty fucking volleyball players," he rasped, and I said nothing, because one big finger had slipped inside me, curling into my heat, Maverick's tongue circling my clit.

My body had always been his to command, and I didn’t fight it now, didn’t fight the release that would mark me as his.

I buried my hands in his hair, my nipples tightening, stinging with need as his tongue devoured me.

"Oh god, I'm close," I cried, as my legs left the ground and I arched against the rough wood in agony.

He moved up to curve a big hand around the back of my neck as he kissed me roughly, yanking one leg high up in the air and giving me no warning before he thrust into me as I gasped with his size.

"Fuck, Maverick," I groaned, the walls of my pussy stretching with a pleasurable sting.

"Yes," he growled against my mouth. "Say my name again."

" Maverick ," I whispered. " I love you ."

He practically howled in triumph. "I love you too," he groaned in my ear, his hands tight on me. Dark, possessive, the blood from his cut damp on my throat too as my head hit the barn and his big cock split me open, driving me to an unmistakable shuddering release.

"Making it up to you for the rest of my life starts now," my husband said firmly as he kissed me.