Maverick and Mistletoe (Hell's Handlers MC 10.50) - Page 1

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WITH A ROLL of his eyes, Maverick stood at the bottom of the stairs and hollered up to his wife for the third time in as many minutes. “Stephanie, if you don’t get your sweet ass downstairs in the next two minutes, I’m coming up there to spank it raw.”

He shifted as the threat made any excess room in his jeans disappear. Shit. Now he’d gone and done it. They were due to catch a flight at the Knoxville airport in a little over an hour, and he’d made himself hard with one thought of his red handprint across his wife’s delectable ass.

The woman had a booty like no other. So good, he’d locked it down and forsaken all other asses, something no one—him included—thought would ever happen. Especially considering how much he’d gotten around before Steph crashed into his life.

He glanced at his watch. Technically, they didn’t have to leave at that exact moment.

He and Steph had been fucking for years now. They could bang out a quickie, straighten themselves up, and be at the airport with time to spare. He loved to edge his woman with the best of ’em when they had the time. He certainly had the stamina for it. But he could also get the job done in under five minutes when the situation called for it. He liked to think of himself as a jack-of-all-fucks. Master of all fucks, too. Whatever the circumstances, he’d get ‘er done and get ‘er done right.

Man, he fucking loved married life.

And now, his dick had hardened to the point where it wouldn’t tolerate the neglect much longer.

“Time’s up!” he shouted, charging up the stairs as fast as his stiff, aching cock would allow.

“Uh, no, the hell it is not,” Stephanie yelled back from their bedroom, making him chuckle. “I have a minute left, and I only need thirty seconds, you horny bastard!”

Christ, he loved that woman’s sassy mouth.

For multiple reasons.

He stepped through the open door into their bedroom to find his wife stuffing clothes in a suitcase, wearing nothing but a candy-cane striped bra and panty set.

Thirty seconds my ass.

If he hadn’t already been down to fuck her, one glimpse of her in that getup would have made all the blood race to his cock. Extra points for the time he’d save by not having to undress her. And bless the woman for enabling his obsession with all things Christmas by owning an insane collection of festive holiday lingerie.

As he loosened his belt buckle, Stephanie whirled around. “Oh, no, big guy. No, no, no.” She held up a red-tipped finger while backing away. “We do not have time for this, Maverick.” Her legs hit the dresser, trapping her.

With a wink, he lowered his zipper and kept advancing. “Baby, there’s always time for Christmas cock. You know this.”

Steph tried to disguise her amusement with a stern glare but only halfway succeeded. Her laugh came out as some sort of weird snort that made Mav’s dick twitch. Fuck, he had it bad for his ol’ lady if a half laugh, half pig noise made him even hornier.

“What I know,” she said, swatting his hands away as he reached for her tits. She sidestepped out of his reach and strutted into their big walk-in closet. “Is that if we miss our plane, we’re screwed and not in the way you’re hoping for right now. With Christmas being a few days away, we’ll never get another flight, and I need this vacation, Mav.”

Shit, she wasn’t the only one who needed a few days away. They’d been working non-stop at Mav’s security company ever since he’d signed a contract with an extensive hospital system in the Knoxville area. Unfortunately, there had been some cyber-attacks, and Mav’s guys were boosting the entire system. Not a small or easy task. Not to mention the club had been through more than its fair share of shit in the two years since Mav and Steph got married. So a few days away to reset and focus on nothing but each other was exactly what the doctor ordered.

But technically, they had ten minutes before they had to leave, so why waste it?

“Seven minutes, baby. Give me seven minutes.” He shoved his jeans down and stepped out of them. Since he’d skipped underwear, his hard cock jutted out as though seeking its mate. “That leaves you three whole minutes to continue changing your mind about the shit you’ve already had packed for three weeks.”

She emerged from the closet no more clothed than when she went in, which boded well for him. But that expression meant sexy things weren’t coming his way.

Hands on her hips, she frowned. “Mocking me isn’t a good way to get what you want, Mav.”

Nine minutes. Time to bring out the big guns. He peeled his shirt over his head. As always, Stephanie’s eyes flared as he bared his fully inked torso. Not an inch of skin remained. One of the final pieces on his chest had been a tiny inscription directly over his heart.

Tags: Lilly Atlas Hell's Handlers MC Romance