Maverick and Mistletoe (Hell's Handlers MC 10.50)

The murderous expression didn’t leave her face, which, of course, made him chuckle. At least she wasn’t thinking about their situation for a beat. “What if I give you full rights to use the story to torment me the next time I fuck something up? No one knows, and I mean no one. I’ll be raked over the coals when the club finds this one out.”

That had her face lighting up and a giggle bursting forth. Operation Distract Stephanie was moving along nicely.

“Now you’re talking. Proceed.” Mischief lit her eyes.

“So, I took this chick to my room at the club. This was, oh, seven years or so ago. She was not the sugariest donut in the box, if you know what I mean.”

Steph laughed. “I don’t think I do. You saying she was mean?”

With a snort, he shook his head. “No. Dumb. Like so dumb, baby, I can’t even tell you. But I heard she sucked cock like a fucking beast, so who was I to judge? You know?”

“Mmm, how magnanimous of you.”

“Right?” He laughed. If he stared in her eyes and nowhere else, he could almost pretend they were in bed, lounging and sharing ridiculous stories after hours of hot, sweaty sex.

They had the hot and sweaty part at the very least.

“Anyway, she kept telling me how a blowie was so much better when she was chewing gum. Some bullshit about mint and tingles and rocking my world like no woman ever had.”

She grinned, riveted to his every word. “Oh God, I know where this is going.”

“You may think you do, but trust me, it’s worse than you imagine. So, you know me. I’m down to try fucking anything, right?”

“Of course.”

“I give her the green light, and she shoves two sticks of gum in her mouth. After a few minutes of chewing—like a fucking cow, I might add—she gets down to it. Swear to fucking Christ, baby, not two seconds after she got me in her mouth, my dick lit on fire. Fire. And not in a good way.”

Giggling, Steph shook her head. “So, no minty fresh effervescence for you?”

“Fuck no. And you wanna know why?”

One of her light eyebrows arched.

“She wasn’t chewing fucking minty gum. She’d shoved two Big Reds in there. Fire, baby. Spicy, fiery burning right in my dick hole. I thought the thing had burst into flames and was gonna char right off my body.”

Now, Steph was hooting with so much laughter, tears streamed down her face. Since she couldn’t wipe them away, they mixed with the blood on her chin and lip, making a light red trail run down her neck. “Oh, my God. Only you, Mav. Only you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not over yet,” he said, shuddering as the memory brought the pain back to life. “I shouted and kinda shoved her off. I didn’t mean to, but that shit hurt. And that’s my junk, you know? It’s fucking priceless. Anyway, she wasn’t expecting it and screeched. I’m talking cat being dunked in water screech.”

With her eyes flaring wide, Steph hung on every word. “Oh no. Did she choke on the um?”

“Nope. Kinda wish she had.” At least he wouldn’t worry about her out there somewhere sharing her version of the story. “This was worse. The gum flew out of her mouth and landed in my pubes.”

“I—” Steph’s mouth opened and closed a few times. Then she blinked. “I don’t even have words.”

“Right? I was all, ‘get it off me, woman.’ And to her credit, she tried, but it was too late. Swear she ripped half the hair off my junk trying to get that sticky shit out. Ended up having to shave every damn hair and looked like a damn plucked chicken for weeks.”

“Well, thank you, Mav. That just might be the best story I’ve ever heard.” She tilted her head and studied him for a second. “Now is it true, or did you make it up to—”

A noise outside the door had her freezing and her eyes widening. “Mav.” The tremor in her voice slayed him.

“Shhh.”

A heavy tread of footsteps followed masculine laughter. They were back.

“Hey,” he whispered to his wife, who looked seconds from puking her guts up. “We got this, baby. “Remember, Toni will get worried when you don’t check in. They’ll contact Curly. He’ll find us. We just gotta hang on that long. Whatever happens in this room, we will get through it together. Get me?”

“Yes.” The door swung open, and three men waltzed in.

“Love you,” she whispered. Fear had her paling. Digger, Beer-gut from the other night with his fucked-up face, and a man they hadn’t met yet.

He winked at Steph. “Love you way more.”

Their captors ditched the masks as soon as they’d left the restaurant, which didn’t bode well for him and Steph. Only reason to show their faces was if they planned to off their hostages.