Page 123 of The Maverick

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Page 123 of The Maverick

Then he spread my legs open and positioned himself between them. “I wanna fuck you without a condom.”

“I’m on the pill.”

A wolfish smile slid onto his face as he plunged into me, growling all the way. “Feels so good.”

“I’ve fulfilled my duty as stated in the contract, sir.” I flicked him a challenging smirk.

He gave my ass a playful slap. “The new contract states you must satisfy your boss like this every day.”

“Okay, sexy boss.”

He slammed into me again and again. Sensations escalated, sending waves of heat all over me. He took me in all kinds of positions, wild and hot. When I flew over the edge, he continued to pump inside me. I watched his face as he poured himself into me.

“I love you so much,” he breathed.

“I love you too,” I replied and kissed him.

We collapsed onto the floor and took a moment to breathe. Our bodies were lathered in edible paint, an innovative, delicious, and more costly alternative to acrylic or oil paints. This could be our painting sessions from now on. A glance at the canvas fabric showed the most beautiful abstract painting.

“Round two?” Attikus asked.

We continued our messy painting session all night long. I couldn’t wait to see the artwork we created in the morning.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

ATTIKUS

Two days offwith Vanessa had cleared my head to return to work. I told Vanessa I had a business trip and would be back in two days.

Reality flooded me with information. Detective Farmer didn’t obtain any new information about the two men who had attacked Miranda. One of them had died at the scene and the other of a heart attack in prison.

Paul Exinor had been in and out of consciousness at Forrest’s clinic, so we weren’t sure how helpful he could be. But we held on to hope. Who had sent him to kill Sam Thornton?

The boys and I had a quick meeting to review our plans. Though I had taken time off to be with Vanessa, I’d ensured things were set in motion. When the boys confirmed our plan was ready, I headed to Chicago to meet Milton Kalkounis.

He was lying low at an Ultra Health and Fitness location in Chicago. Milton took the bait when he heard about a potential client who needed to look buff for a new role in an upcoming movie. He loved it when I told him I’d pay anything for his help.

I sat in the tenth-floor lounge of a hotel I owned. It wasn’t as busy as the ground-level lounge. If Milton Kalkounis didn’t give me what I needed, I had no qualms about pushing him over the railing to his death.

My men occupied ten tables scattered around the lounge area. I had no doubt the fucker had recorded the beatingyears ago. Though he didn’t beat me that day, he was part of the crime by recording it. He had to know where Ashton was hiding.

I held a tumbler of whiskey as I waited, scanning the area for Milton Kalkounis. A man like him would probably bring backup. I wouldn’t address him by Jean-Claude Dumas.

Seconds later, Milton Kalkounis walked into the lounge, wearing a crisp dark shirt and slacks. He had dyed his short blond hair black. No one was with him, but that didn’t mean his men weren’t on the ground level waiting for him.

I glanced at the two men at a nearby table, who understood what needed to be done. They stood and headed downstairs to ensure Milton’s men didn’t come up here.

Milton turned to the host. “I’m here to see Jonathan Wellbridge.”

“Mr. Wellbridgeis sitting in the far right corner by the railing.”

I tapped my phone, turned it on, and looked outside, where the large windows were open to allow fresh air to enter. My back would face Milton when he arrived.

“Jonathan Wellbridge? I’m Jean-Claude Dumas,” he said in his fake French accent.

I rolled my eyes and turned to greet him.

He recognized me immediately and tried to bolt, but my men rose from their seats.


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