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Maverick (Hell's Handlers MC 2)

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That almost raped her.

Fuck, Mav wanted to lose control on the man. Let his own darkness fly free and use King as his punching bag until the man was nothing more than a limp sack of bones. But he couldn’t. Hell, this trip through the woods nearly did him in, and he wasn’t due for any more pain medication for at least another hour.

He pressed a kiss to Steph’s hand before releasing her. When he bent halfway down to pull up the door leading to the underground room, a sharp slice of pain started at his sternum and shot around to his spine, stealing his breath and making him grunt.

“Mav?” Stephanie asked. He loved that she used his shortened name. Meant she was comfortable with him. Familiar.

“I’m good, doll. Just need a second.” Like she’d ever believe that. His words were breathy, strangled, and it sounded as though a Copper-sized man was sitting on his chest. Felt that way, too.

“Don’t be a hero,” Stephanie said with a roll of her eyes. She grabbed the handle with her uninjured hand and hefted.

The door was heavier than she’d expected, and she faltered after she’d gotten it about a third of the way open, but it was enough for Mav to reach and help her hoist it up. Later, he was going to pay for all this activity big time, but later he'd have all the time in the world to lie in a bed in agony.

Maybe Steph would lie with him. He knew a few all-natural pain remedies that trumped Percocet any day. Though, to be honest, he wasn’t quite sure he was up for anything more than passing out next to her. Never once had he slept next to a woman for more than a quick thirty-minute catnap before round two. Or three.

But the thought of sinking into his bed while Stephanie relaxed alongside him, both their bodies healing and recovering from the past few days damage, yeah, that sounded pretty damned perfect.

But first…

“Ladies first,” he said, gesturing toward the dimly lit steps.

Stephanie cast a wary glance at the dark entrance to The Box. “Not necessary. I’ll follow you. Unless you need me to help you navigate the steps. All this walking has to be murder on your ribs.”

Mav chuckled then winced. There she went again, trying to step between him and the pain. In reality, she was right, he hurt like a mofo, but both legs could be hanging off him and he wouldn’t let her know it. “I’m good, doll.” He stepped forward and kissed her cheek, lingering at her ear afterward. “Appreciate you looking out for me, though.”

She turned an adorable shade of pink and nodded, not making eye contact.

“Here we go.” Maverick descended the steps slowly since it was all his aching body would allow. “Stay close.”

The moment the words left his lips, her fingers curled around the waistband of his jeans. When the soft pads of her fingertips brushed along his lower back, a hot stab of lust nearly took him to his knees.

Even at an unusually slow pace, it didn’t take them more than a minute to reach The Box, which was aptly named. About twelve-by-twelve, The Box was just that. A large square room with one overhead light and a hose coming from a spigot in the far wall.

The center of The Box sloped downward from all corners, converging in a hole the size of a manhole cover. King wasn’t the first guest to stay at Hotel Box, and while it had been some time since the room was used, no one had any problems doing what needed to be done.

No one except Stephanie, apparently.

The moment she reached the ground, a soft, shocked gasp left her, and her hand flew to her mouth. Wide-eyed, she stared at King, or what used to be King. Now it was just a wounded animal bent on survival.

Uselessly.

Mav felt none of what she felt. None of the shock. None of the horror. None of the fear. And sure as hell none of the guilt. Hopefully she didn’t feel guilty either. Because if anyone deserved what the man slumped in the chair was getting, it was King.

“He looks…” Stephanie shifted her gaze from the bloody mess of King to Maverick.

Mav slid an arm around her waist and spoke against her ear in a low whisper. “He can’t hurt you anymore. You don’t have to do anything at all, sweetheart. You can turn around and walk out of here with the knowledge that King won’t be leaving here. Won’t be hurting another woman ever again. Or you can stay and watch. Or you can participate.”

She turned her head until their lips were just a breath apart. Wildly inappropriate, but Mav could barely think beyond the desire to capture those lips with his.


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