Page 112 of The Maverick
“You know what I want right now?” My voice grew hoarse as I imagined her in bed with me.
“A cheesy plant joke?”
I laughed. “That wasn’t on my mind, but I’ll take whatever you want to give me.” My dick needed attention, and I gripped it, wishing it was her hand stroking me.
“I know what you’re doing right now.”
“Do you now?”
“You’re doing what I’m doing. But I wish it were you . . .”
She was fucking hot and perfect.
“I didn’t realize I had such a wicked wife.”
“That’s because I’m learning from my wicked husband.”
Twenty minutes later, my seductive Lily Pad had me rushing into the bathroom to clean myself.
I fell asleep with her voice in my head.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
VANESSA
As I droveto work the next day,I stopped by the grocery store to pick up some water bottles and healthy snacks for the refrigerator in the gallery's kitchen.
I bought some fruit, water, juice, and trail mix for Willow and me. I ate her last pack a few days ago.
As I loaded my car, I heard a scream.
“Leave me alone! Help me!”
I stiffened, remembering the traumatic event I’d experienced all those years ago. I rushed to help and saw two men harassing Miranda.
“Help!” I shouted as I reached for my phone and dialed 911.
This was too familiar. My heart hammered, but I wasn’t a young, helpless girl anymore. The men spotted me and pushed Miranda to the ground. She was bleeding profusely from her stomach.
The man with the ponytail held a bloody knife and glared at me. “Get her!”
The infuriated men rushed toward me, looking like they wanted to kill me. A group of people exited the grocery store and hurried toward me.
“Help me!” I waved them over. “They stabbed her!”
The two criminals saw the people and tried to run away, but three men rushed after them. A battle erupted as three bulky men shoved the criminals to the ground.
I overheard one of my rescuers calling for assistance. He must’ve been an off-duty officer.
My body trembled as I pressed a hand to Miranda’s wound, trying to stop the bleeding. “Help is on the way,” I told her.
Tears streamed from her eyes as she looked at me. Her pupils weren’t dilated.
“It wasn’t me yesterday.” She winced. “They did something to me . . . Can you get my phone?” She looked over at her purse lying on the floor with the contents scattered everywhere.
I reached for her purse and found her phone.
“They want me to blackmail him with a video . . . They’re evil . . . Here’s the code to my phone.” She drew the code on my arm. Another wave of pain overcame her, and her breath hitched. “He didn’t have a son with me . . .”
