Page 8 of Wicked William

“I love books. Oh, I’m so excited. What’s this place going to be?” She runs her hand over the well-sanded countertop and then looks at me with a somewhat shocked expression.

I know better than to ask, but I ask anyway. “You tell me. What’s this place going to be?”

“It used to be clothes. Women’s. But...” She tilts her head like she’s considering. “Tea.”

“Tea?” Max asks, confused.

“Tea and herbs,” she says, but she looks a little flustered.

Then I remember how I pictured her this morning when I was sanding the counter. In my mind, I had her bent over, gripping the edge of the counter while I pounded into her from behind. Her slick, wet heat coating my cock while her tight sheath clenched around me as she came, making those same noises she made last night in the room next to me.

“Tea and herbs,” I repeat, trying to push the image out of my head.

Maisy looks at me, and I see a flicker of something in her eyes, something that makes my heart race.

“Well, I better get going,” she says. “I’m heading to the grocery store before going home. Do you have any requests?”

“Nah, I’m good with anything,” I say, trying to ignore the way my heart rate spikes when Maisy’s gaze meets mine.

“You sure? I can get whatever you want,” she says.

“Nah, it’s all good,” I repeat. Max is still watching me, so I add, “Thanks anyway.”

Maisy grins. “No problem.”

“Wait.” I pull out my wallet and hand her some cash.

She takes it with a smile. “Thanks. It was nice to meet you, Max.”

“You too,” he says, his gaze still on me. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Bye,” she says, her voice soft.

And then she’s gone, leaving me alone with my brother.

“What the hell was that?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I mutter, turning away from him.

He’s not buying it. “That was definitely something.”

“It’s nothing,” I say again.

Max just laughs. “You can’t fool me, brother. I know you too well. She said she was headinghomeafter the store. Are you living with a woman?”

“She needed room and board. She’s cooking and cleaning for me, helping out.”

Max shakes his head. “You sure that’s all she’s doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Max says, “is she helping you out in more ways than one?”

“She needed a job. And a place to stay.”

Max purses his lips. “She’s pretty.”

“She is. She’s also too young for me. And she’s like a tornado bearing down on a trailer park. Not my type.”

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