Page 73 of Maid in Heaven

“Dude, banging in a truck is hot! Especially when it’s all snowy outside. Fog up the windows… it’s like passionate.”

“It’s cramped, is what it is.”

“Do you wanna ride the bologna pony or what? I’m offering you solutions to your problems. Putnam said he’s cleaning her house today. Heard her bragging about it last week at the bar when she was downing her stupid gin and tonics. That woman is who I hope to be when I’m grown up.You should go over there. Wear a dress. No underwear -- for easy access -- and ambush him in his truck after. Test the shocks on that bitch.”

“Putnam? As in Lena Putnam? The chick over by the mountain whose husband owns that modular closet company?”

“Yeah. Iidolizethat bitch.”

“Why?” Ava started applying makeup in the mirror.

“Because even at 56, that woman gets more dick than a urinal. I’ve gotrookienumbers compared to her.”

“Set your goals higher, Madison,” Ava teased.

“You might be happy being tethered to one cock for the rest of your life. For me, variety is the spice of life.”

“Fine,” Ava relented. “I’ll go seehim today.”

“Yesss! Atta girl!” Madison dropped her phone and picked it up again. “Whoops!”

“You alright over there?”

“Yeah, I’m always dropping this fucking thing like a bar ‘a soap in a prison shower.”

Ava shook her head, plucking the mascara out of a cubby on her counter.

“Have you told him about what you’re doing for him?”

“No, and don’t you blab. It’s still in the works.”

“It’s not too late to abort that plan, Harla. I still think it’stoo much.”

“Well, I think he’s going to like it.”

Madison sighed. “Ooooo-kayyyyy.”

27

The memories of lastnight simmered on the back burnerof his mind, threatening to boil over. Even after a full nightofsleep and a cold shower, the thoughts of Ava grinding on his lap, hands buried beneath his jeans, massaging his cock, blazed a trailthrough his brain.

The pain of the too-tight suspenders digging into his shouldersanchored him back to reality. He was cleaning the stove housed in LenaPutnam’s farmhouse-style kitcheninlittle more than soaked fireman’s pants and a helmet. Sweat glistened off his bare shoulders and abs as he used elbow grease to remove charred bits of food fromone of the burners.

“Francesca makes such a mess,doesn’t she?” Lena asked from her perch on the counter. Her leathery cleavage and overdone facefullof makeup seemed off-putting beneath her recessed lights.

Will continued to scrub away, faking a smile to his most loyal customer.“She can be as messy as she wants.That’s what I’m here for. ”

“You’re here for more than just toiling awaywith a scouring pad, and you know it.Anydipshit canscrub my burners, William.I’m paying to watch that sculpted body.”She groaned like she was eating something delicious.

“Oh, please. You haven’t been down on your hands and knees in, what, a decade or so?”he teased.

“On thecontrary,my love.It’s one of my favorite positions tobein.”She winked.

He shook his head.“You’re such a flirt.” He rinsed the scouring pad in the sink.“When is Mr. Putnam coming back from his trip to Japan? I thought he was due home yesterday.”

“He was, but they had to iron out some of the fine print. Something about adverse side effects,I honestly stopped listening.” Mrs. Putnam hopped down from the counter and leaned against the cabinet beside the stove, crossing her arms in a not-so-subtle attempt to hoist her cleavage.

“When are we gonna stop playing games and get down to it?I know this is allegedly alook-but-don’t-touch service, but everyone’s got a price, William. What’s yours?” She gently pinched his ass.

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