Page 90 of Hannah and the Hitman

Smitty didn’t answer, only glared and clawed, too insulted by being manhandled by a woman to realize–yet–he was in trouble.

“When a woman’s talking to you, be respectful, asshole,” I said.

“Yes!” he yelled. “Yes, I have an ex-wife.”

“Why’d you get divorced?” Hannah asked. “Cheated?”

“No.”

With a flick of her wrist, Hannah threw him against the wall with a hard thud. He slid down to the floor like in the movies.

“Whoa,” Dax murmured, wide eyed.

Smitty winced, a hand on his chest as he tried tocatch his breath. Cool as a fucking cucumber, Hannah walked over, leaned down and grabbed him again. He went right back up in the air, reminding me of a flag in the breeze.

“She eat her Wheaties this morning?” Dax asked, not tearing his eyes off my girl.

“Cheated?” Hannah repeated, giving him a little jiggle.

I may have heard his teeth clack together.

“Yes!”

“I don’t like cheaters.”

“She got fat with each kid,” he replied. He was definitely dumber than Joey Brains.

Hannah cocked her head, not liking that answer. Hell,Ididn’t like that answer.

“Dude, I’m PMSing and I’mreallycranky? You know how women get, all emotional and a little crazy.”

Dax snorted and I grinned.

“Please, I’m sorry,” he pleaded.

NowSmitty knew he was fucked, although too stupid to know how since he’d never been tossed around by a woman.

“Probably not as sorry as your ex feels about meeting you.”

“Don’t kill him, gorgeous,” I said, unable to keep the teasing smirk from my face. “At least not yet.”

She turned, which made Smitty swing about and have his feet hit the file cabinet. “What do you want me to do with him then? Although, I’m wearing Brittany’s clothes, and she won’t be thrilled if I get blood on them.”

Smitty, still dangling, made a pitiful sound, then started to cry. She winked at me.

I groaned, shifted my dick in my pants. She noticed and I winked right back.

Dax leaned toward me. “This is so much more fun than the garden shears.”

I nodded because I hadn’t had this much fun in a while either. At least since this morning when I’d had Hannah on her knees sucking my dick.

“How much back child support do you owe her, Smitty?” Dax asked.

The sum came out on hiccupping sob.

Dax held up the money Smitty’d forked over earlier. “I’m taking this to your ex. You’re back to square one with your loan amount. I’ll be back next week to collect. In full.”

“Ooo, can I come?” Hannah asked, then tossed the guy onto the ancient couch, which groaned, cracked, then collapsed in the center.