Page 93 of Broken Promises

“She better have a really good fucking reason once we get Ezra back,” I mutter.

Declan stays quiet for the rest of the drive home, just the occasional thigh squeeze to let me know he’s still there with me. Part of me wants to immediately run to Harlow and ask what she thinks. Or make Dec turn the car around and go confront Adira.

But the more I think about it, the more I realize it wouldn’t matter. If Adira really is protecting Kai, and I hope more than anything that she is and hasn’t actually turned into a horrible person, then I need to let her. She won’t tell us what she knows if she thinks she’s saving him.

Just another layer added to this case. I can’t help feeling like the whole thing is about to come toppling down.

FORTY-FIVE

declan

It’s been two months,and Willa is getting sick of being stuck at home. I get it. I really do. She hasn’t been anywhere since the trip to Maine with my parents. But I still travel all the time or at the very least go to the training center. She sometimes comes with me to watch practice just to get out of the house. We made the playoffs with our first game happening tomorrow. I’m both excited and nervous because I’ll be officially announcing my retirement at the end of the season, whether that’s at the end of this seven-game round or in June while holding the cup. Either way, it’s the end of this part of my life.

Harrison is still going over the journal Mav’s dad gave him. He’s been sending information to all his contacts in various government agencies to help with the case against Eva. Maverick has asked to be left out of all of it unless it pertains to him personally, and I really can’t blame the guy for that.

Harrison was able to confirm that Abigail was Maverick’s biological mother and James had suspicions that Eva arranged her death and staged it to look like suicide. Maverick took the news better than I was expecting, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the poor guy had a complete breakdown after all this was over. He earned it, honestly.

“Can I come with you?”

I look at my wife. She’s fidgeting with a throw pillow on our couch and giving me her best puppy dog eyes.

“You want to come with me to physical therapy?” I ask with a smirk. She thinks anything outside of this neighborhood is exciting at this point.

“They can give me tips on how to help you at home,” she tries to reason.

“You help me plenty,” I tell her, leaning in and giving her what was supposed to be a quick kiss. Willa grabs my shirt in her fists and holds on, deepening the kiss until I’m groaning. “I have to go, Princess.”

“You have fifteen minutes before you need to leave,” she says, her voice raspy. I can’t deny her when she sounds turned on like that.

“Clothes off. Now.” She obeys immediately, shedding the t-shirt and sweatpants she was wearing with nothing underneath. I strip as quickly as I can and sit on the couch, pulling her onto my lap. “This is going to be quick and dirty.”

“I want you inside me.”

I lift her and guide her over my already throbbing length. Willa has taken to walking around braless, knowing exactly what it does to me. I pretend to complain, but I love every minute of it. Especially the evil little laugh she does when I point it out.

“Fuck,” I grunt out when she seats herself fully. “You take me so well, Princess.”

“My husband has such a big cock.”

The sound that comes from my throat when she says that can only be described as animalistic. “Say it again.”

Willa leans forward, slowly rotating her hips in a way that has my balls tightening already. “Cock.”

“Fuck, Willa.” I grip her hips and plow into her from below. “Does my wife have a dirty fucking mouth?”

“Yes,” she moans, her head thrown back.

“I’m going to fuck that dirty mouth when I get home.”

“Harder, baby,” she groans, leaning into me and biting down on my shoulder.

“Yes, Princess.” I fuck her even harder, gritting my teeth as I feel that familiar tingle at the base of my spine. She’s clenching around me, so I know she’s right there with me. “Come. Come on your husband’s fat cock.”

Like the good girl she is, she comes hard, clenching around me so tightly I have no choice but to follow her right over the edge. We’re panting, our sweaty bodies stuck together. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

“Do you really want to come with me?” I ask her. She nods into my shoulder.

“Alright. But only if you put a bra on. I don’t need anyone checking out my wife.”

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