“Jesus.” The woman was a sadist. His dick roared to life. Just the thought of spending the week naked and with unfettered access to his wife had his mind running in a million dirty directions. He reached down and adjusted himself without an ounce of shame, loving the way her eyes sparked.
How the hell had he gotten so damn lucky? He was one hundred percent certain he didn’t deserve the incredible woman sitting across from him who’d vowed to spend her life by his side, but he was selfish enough to bind her to him in every way possible.
Hmm, maybe it was time to think about knocking her up. Shit, now the thought of her carrying their infant was getting him even harder.
“You better stop looking at me like that, minx. Unless you want to find yourself on your back right here on this table.”
His sexy wife gasped, but not in horror. Her gaze flicked down to the table before returning to his, and one neatly groomed eyebrow rose to a perfect arch. “I mean, there’s probably enough room.”
He groaned. “You’re trouble,” he said as he pointed to her.
A delighted laugh bubbled out of her. “I’m trouble?” she asked with a wink. “You’re pretty much the king of trouble. I’m gonna hit the lady’s room before we get back on the road. Meet you at the bike.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll settle the bill and meet you out there.”
She started to walk away, giving him one of his favorite views. Her stellar ass hugged by tight denim. Those cheeks should be registered as a fucking weapon. Far better men than him would fall to their knees and give up their fortunes for just one touch.
But they’d never get it.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he said after she’d taken a few steps.
She looked over her shoulder.
“Forget something?” he asked, crooking a finger at her.
Her brow scrunched for a moment, and then recognition dawned bright across her face. “My bad.” She shuffled back over to him, where he circled her wrist with his hand then tugged her down to his level.
“Damn right,” he whispered against her unglossed mouth. “Don’t let it happen again. I’ll be forced to punish you severely.”
A whole-body shiver ran through her right before he crashed their mouths together. After laying a not-for-public kiss on her, he let her go. She stumbled back a step, then blew out a breath before walking away.
“And he calls me trouble,” she mumbled under her breath, making him chuckle.
“Wowie,” their fifty-something waitress said, fanning herself with her order pad as she appeared from thin air. “That was some smooch, sonny. Any chance you’re giving them out to middle-aged divorcees as well as your lucky-as-hell lady?”
Laughing, he shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am. That wife of mine is vicious and smart. They’d never find my body.”
With a dramatic sigh, the waitress set the check on the table. “Just as well. This ol’ ticker ain’t what it used to be. I’d prolly have a coronary right here in the diner.” She winked, then tapped the check. “Whenever you’re ready, sweetie. No rush.”
“Thank you. And please tell the chef the food was fantastic.” Mav’s best friend and his ol’ lady owned a diner in Tennessee. He knew how damn hard the cook worked and how much he appreciated hearing glowing feedback from the customers.
After clearing their plates, the waitress shuffled onto another booth. Mav dropped three twenties on the table, enough to cover their bill and leave the friendly server a hefty tip.
The evening sun caressed his skin with a pleasant warmth as he walked to the bike Curly had loaned him for the week. It wasn’t his baby, but it got the job done, and he’d take a loaner bike over a cage any day.
The second he reached the motorcycle, an engine rumbled nearby, making him whip around and narrowly avoid being taken out by a large white utility van. It screeched to a stop behind the motorcycle, eliminating his ability to leave.
“The fuck…” His I’m-fucked instincts flared to life.
The panel door slid open, and four men in black pants, shirts, and ski masks poured out.
Shit.
Yep, fucked.
Skills honed from a youth of brawling bigger and badder kids in foster care had his muscles prepared to react to an attack immediately. He clenched his fists and readied his posture to fight for his fucking life.
“I’m a little old to be kidnapped by a bunch of pedos, aren’t I?” he asked as he took a step back. For fuck’s sake, it was broad daylight. But the diner hadn’t been crowded, and the van blocked the view from the windows. “Though I imagine you could get a pretty fucking penny for all this.” He indicated his body as he spoke.
“The fuck you say?” one of the masked thugs asked. His voice rang familiar, but who the fuck did Maverick know in Florida besides his new club brothers?