Maverick (Hell's Handlers MC 2)

God, it felt good to hear that nickname. Stupid as it might be, it gave her a boost of confidence. She had felt nothing but weak and defeated the past two months. Hearing him call her wildcat reminded her there was someone out there who knew what she was really like.

Stephanie shot a quick glance at the seriously pissed-off skank, who still hadn’t left, then said, “It’s okay. Rarely hurts anymore.”

“Shouldn’t be there at all.” Still so gently she nearly let the tears fall, he tugged her into the room at the same time his other hand nudged Carli out the door. “Told you before she knocked, Carli, that it wasn’t going to happen today, tomorrow, next year, or fucking ever. This is your only warning. Pull shit like this again, and I’ll see to it you’re banned from the property.”

Then he slammed the door, but not before Stephanie caught the way Carli’s face crumpled into misery. Part of her felt a little guilty for playing a role in Carli’s fate, but she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t wonderful to hear he hadn’t planned on sleeping with her.

“I’m so sorry I interrupted you. I can go if you want to, uh…you know.”

“Heard me tell her it wasn’t happening?”

Stephanie nodded.

“Wasn’t saying that shit for your benefit, Steph. Not interested in her. Only seem to be getting hard for one particular woman these days.”

Wait—he couldn’t mean her, could he?

No, that was crazy.

“You never called,” he said, accusation thick in his voice. “No text, nothing. Got jack shit from you, babe.”

Unable to meet his gaze, Stephanie risked looking down. His boner seemed to have deflated. “I know. I’ve been a little…lost.”

“Hey.” He nudged her chin up with the knuckles of his right hand. Whatever it was that made her admit the truth, it was worth it. Just seeing the understanding and compassion in his eyes made her feel lighter. “We’ll get it sorted.”

Seeing as how her throat felt suddenly too thick to swallow, Stephanie could only nod and squeeze his hand in gratitude.

With his free hand, he pinched the excess, denim sagging around her ass. “We’ll get this sorted, too.”

“What?”

“Liked the way your ass filled out a pair of jeans before. We need to get you back there again. Couple visits to Toni’s diner oughta do the trick.”

Heat rushed to Steph’s face. She’d lost almost ten pounds in the past two months, and for someone who wasn’t big to begin with, it was too much. She’d known it, but the appetite just wasn’t there. Basically, she’d eaten enough to survive, but had lost all pleasure in the activity. But standing there in front of Maverick, she felt hungry for the first time in months.

If only she were hungry for food alone.

While she’d been lost in thought, Mav had closed the distance between them until his front pressed against her and what she’d mistakenly thought was a diminishing hard-on was resting against her stomach. Her core clenched, but he made no move to alleviate his problem, just wrapped his arms around her and held tight. She tilted her head back and rested her chin on his firm chest, keeping her gaze on his face.

“Glad you’re here, wildcat.”

“So am I.” It was the truth. Despite the enormous chasm of lies separating them, Stephanie felt grounded for the first time since she walked away two months ago.

AS AMAZING AS Stephanie felt all snuggled up against him, and as much as his cock wanted him to do something about that amazing feeling, the rest of him was aware of just how thin she’d gotten over the past two months. It was like holding a bag of bones instead of the soft woman she’d been a short time ago.

Unacceptable.

His protective instincts flared to life, overshadowing his cock’s need for release. The woman needed to be fed some goddamn grub, then needed to sleep. In his bed, preferably.

WTF?

In his bed? No. Women did not sleep in his bed. They fucked in his bed.

Sure, there’d been that one night before she left when he’d held her all night long, a night he thought about way too many times since she’d left. But that wasn’t going to become the norm just because he was pissed Stephanie hadn’t been taking proper care of herself.

Nope. He’d find her an unoccupied room at the clubhouse. They had plenty to spare.

With a bit of reluctance, he unwound his arms and stepped back. “Come on, let’s get you fed and get you some good sleep.”

Hand in hand, they made their way to the kitchen. “Grab a seat. Toni left me some enchiladas. They’re the shit.” As he spoke, he moved around the kitchen, first rifling through the fridge, then dishing out two heaping plates worth of food and popping the first in the microwave.

It was a novel experience, taking care of a woman, but not unpleasant. Her serious gaze tracked him as he moved around the industrial-sized kitchen. Many years ago, when the clubhouse was built, the MC wanted to be ready and able to handle a huge crowd. Hence the fifteen bedrooms, eighteen bathrooms, and a kitchen large enough to feed an army of hungry bikers. Something it did quite often.