Page 107 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)
Chapter One
Avery
Hugging her brand-new, super cute Squishmallow close to her chest, Avery Morello slipped her key into the apartment door and snuck inside like a thief.
A silly thief, considering it was her own home she was sneaking into, but six months of lecturing from her rigidly serious boyfriend, Adam, made her feel like one.
He hated her obsession with all things soft and squishy.
He didn’t understand her habit of relaxing with coloring books and Play-Doh.
He regularly objected to the shows she watched.
She was beginning to think he just didn’t like her, Avery thought as she closed the door. Since he’d moved in at the end of May, she’d spent the last two months feeling claustrophobic in her own home and, worse, her own damn skin.
Bit by bit, piece by piece, who she was at her heart was slowly being boxed up and put into storage, much like her beloved Squishmallow collection.
She hadn’t realized at first how easily Adam planted suggestions in her head, or how he coerced her into obeying his demands if she didn’t jump straight to it.
By the time she noticed it, her Mallows were stowed away in her spare room along with everything else that made her happy and relaxed.
It was pretty demoralizing to understand how much of her personality Adam was siphoning away, day by day. Demoralizing and infuriating, because she never thought she would become the kind of woman who allowed a man to steal her identity this way.
Toeing off her sneakers—another Adam rule; no footwear in the house—she clutched her new Venus tighter as if he was waiting around the corner, ready to spew hurtful words about how immature and childish she was for craving a stuffed animal.
That was ridiculous, of course. At two o’clock on a Friday afternoon, he’d be sitting in his air-conditioned office, phone to his ear, looking like Businessman of the Year despite the godawful heat, just to impress any potential clients who might cross his threshold.
Avery snorted. In her opinion, any client who did business with a man too far up his own ass to loosen his tie or unbutton a couple shirt buttons in the middle of a heatwave deserved whatever they got.
She was supposed to be working the 7 am to 3 pm shift at Wakey Bakey, her friend’s bakery store, but she’d volunteered to cover the four-to-ten shift instead after the usual late-night server called in sick.
Hence the impromptu shopping trip to buy the Mallow she’d been waiting for all damn month. The squishy sheep was the final Mallow she needed to complete the Wildlife Squad part of her collection.
Every payday, she treated herself to one Squishmallow. It was an official section in her self-imposed budget, because if all her paycheck disappeared on bills and taxes, what was the point of living? It wasn’t as if Adam contributed significantly to, well, anything.
That was another thorn sticking repeatedly into her foot, one she didn’t know how to broach. He could lay on the charm when he wanted, which meant he was an expert at distorting a discussion he’d rather avoid.
Lifting Venus to eye level, Avery frowned. “Don’t judge me.”
The dark eyes implied she was being judged, heavily.
Well, maybe she deserved to be, she thought in disgust. Scratch that, she did deserve it.
In the grand scheme of things, she was a terrible example of womanhood, surrendering her personal and feminine morals by allowing Adam to squash every facet of her character, vilify her personality, and generally run rampant through her life.
For the sake of what?
Extra dishes in the sink? Stolen bedcovers? The facade of a relationship?
Padding down the hallway toward the bedrooms, Avery huffed under her breath.
Was she finally admitting to herself that the niggling issues were more than that?
Something was brewing, that much she knew—when it felt like she was smothering in Adam’s presence on a soul deep level, it wasn’t just a small issue, it was a big problem.
Adam didn’t respect her, that much was obvious.
Thoughts dark with misgivings, she hurried straight to the guest bedroom to hide her smuggled new addition to her collection, then paused. Frowning, she backtracked several steps until her feet planted at her bedroom door.
Head cocked, she studied the wood curiously.
She was adamant she’d left it open that morning; she usually did.
Morning was not her friend, scrambling her brains so she often forgot to open the curtains or shut doors.
Once, she’d even walked out with a bowl of cereal in her hand instead of her purse.
Adam was a stickler for keeping doors shut. It was another bone of contention between them. She preferred them open, letting light and air circulate, but as always, he’d subtly poked at her until her habits reflected his preferences.
But she had been the last one in the apartment that morning, and she remembered rushing from the room, trying to pull on her sneakers without crashing into the wall. Shutting the damn door so she didn’t piss off her boyfriend hadn’t even crossed her mind.
Someone coughed, groaned.
Heart seizing in panic, Avery shot a look down the hall.
No, Adam’s shoes were not in their usual spot by the front door.
Had someone broken in? If they had, they hadn’t actually broken in, had they?
The locks were working fine, and unless they’d scaled a five-story building to smash her bedroom window, it was unlikely they’d gained access that way.
What the hell?
Setting her Mallow against the wall out of harm’s way, she rolled her shoulders and stretched out her arms. She was a born and bred city girl, raised right here in Denver, which meant she knew how to take care of herself in certain situations.
Two years of self-defense lessons were about to pay for themselves.
Her home was her goddamn sanctuary, where she kept all her most precious possessions. It was where she went when she needed to relax and recharge, even if that ability was hindered at present by Adam’s presence.
No one broke into her sanctuary and violated it.
No one .
Fisting the handle, Avery blew out a breath and summoned her rage. She might be small, curvy, and more adorable than a panda cub, but by God, she was mighty when she needed to be.
Flinging the door open wide, she prepared to launch herself at the unknown, ready to defend herself and her home. A weapon probably would have been advisable, but as she took in the scene before her, she realized it was a damn good thing she didn’t have one in hand.
Adam’s shoes weren’t by the front door because they were kicked across the bedroom floor, along with a pair of very sleek, sexy Christian Louboutin heels.
Pieces of his suit were scattered over the patterned cream carpet; a black dress was spread open over the back of Avery’s favorite reading chair.
Confusion lasted barely more than a second before betrayal cleaved into her chest, choking the breath from her lungs. It cut deep, carving through her internal organs until the pain felt more physical than emotional, and yet…
Somehow, she wasn’t surprised.
Two pairs of legs were twined together, poking out from beneath the duvet she’d bought, in her goddamn bed. The back of Adam’s thigh and part of his cheating ass were exposed, the covers shifting as he thrust leisurely into…
Well, that was the question, wasn’t it?
Who the hell was in her bed?
It was a definitely a woman, she noted as a high, warbling cry competed with Adam’s guttural groan. Oddly enough, Avery felt no compulsion to wipe her out with a bitch slap or spend ten minutes using her hair as a leash to drag her face across the floor.
No, indeed.
Whoever she was, she was welcome to the cheating bastard…
After Avery made him pay.
Sucking in a breath, smelling sex and the distinctive fragrance of expensive perfume, she bared her teeth and imagined… hell, she was too angry to imagine anything but his average-sized dick combusting like a sparkler on the Fourth of July.
The skank in her bed moaned. “Oh, Adam. Make me come. Fuck me so hard, you’ll be too tired to touch that troll you call a girlfriend later. You’re mine, all mine.”
The asshole had the temerity to laugh. “I fuck her with my eyes closed, baby. All I see is you.”
All Avery saw was red. Lots and lots of vivid, furious red.
Troll , was it? Okay, now bitch-slapping and hair-pulling was back on the menu, along with a side dish of just desserts.
Seething, Avery backed out of the room and stormed to the kitchen.
From the utility cupboard, she pulled out the mop bucket minus the mop—it would be far too tempting to shove it up Adam’s ass—and set it in the sink.
She paced while it filled with cold water, berating herself for being so stupid as to trust him, to let him in her life.
Well, his free ride was about to come to a shocking end.
Hauling the bucket back to the bedroom, she wasn’t surprised to find he was reaching the pinnacle of his intimate little tryst with the skank; stamina wasn’t a quality he could shout about, much like the size of his dick.
Average. Just average.
She was so done with average .
Holding the bucket in one hand, Avery stepped up to the foot of the bed and grabbed hold of the duvet. Hearing the telltale signs of his impending orgasm, she yanked the covers away, pleased with the woman’s shocked gasp.
Adam grunted, twisting slightly at the interruption.
Avery saw the oh fuck look flit across his face, caught a glimpse of the woman’s wide brown eyes, and just grinned. She knew her expression wasn’t quite sane—her teeth were bared and she wasn’t bothering to hide her contempt, fury, or disgust.
Lifting the bucket, she grabbed the bottom with her other hand and tossed the contents over the pair of them. Water cascaded through the air, crashing down on warm, naked skin and splashing everywhere.
The woman screamed; Adam’s pitch came damn close to mirroring it.