Kick laughs again, and I turn my head and glare. He takes another drag on the cigarette and stares down at his boots.
“Jonah, Ivy?” Ma calls from the top of the stairs. “I could really use that gravy boat right now if I’m going to feed all of these men.”
I grit my teeth and take a deep breath in through my nose. When I couldn’t go to Ma's this year, I’d asked Kick to pick her up and bring her back here so the three of us could have Christmas together. The three of us being my two favourite girls and me. The three of us ... not including Kick, or the whole fuckin’ club.
Ivy bites her lip. “Crap. I forgot your Ma needed some help with locating a gravy boat. I told her you probably didn’t have one, but she said you definitely did because she gave it to you, and she’d kick your arse if she finds you’ve thrown it out.”
“Yeah, I got one. Tell her I’ll be up in a minute.”
“Okay. I’ll let her know.” Ivy reaches up on tiptoes to kiss me on the cheek.
“Hey, where’s my merry fucking Christmas?” Kick says, grinning at her. Ivy raises a brow at him. She steps closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Kick pulls her into a firm embrace. She squirms and smacks him upside the head until he releases her.
“It’s good to see you, darlin’,” Kick says and lets her go, and then just to fuck with me some more he slaps her arse as she turns.
“Arsehole,” she mutters.
“Touch my woman once more, motherfucker,” I say through gritted teeth. “Just once, and I’m gonna rip your goddamned head off.”
Ivy places her palm in the centre of my chest. She looks up at me with a naughty grin and those fuckin’ doe eyes that slay me every bloody time. My dick snaps to attention. “Try not to kill him. As irritating as he is, the Saints still need him. At least until Diesel patches in.”
“Right, like that shithead Diesel could ever replace me,” Kick mutters.
I kiss her cheek, her nose, and finally, her lips. “Come on, babe. It’d just be a little killing?”
“Lunch is ready,” Ma calls from the house. Ivy turns on her heel and heads upstairs. I scoop up the wriggling rat that tries to follow after her and shove my palm against Kick’s chest, forcing him to stumble back a step. He gives me the narrow-eyed universal glare for what the fuck? I smile as I thrust the puppy at him.
“Not so fast, fuck face. You’re on sieve duty.”
“What?”
“You brought me a pup. I asked for a dog. The little shit ate my fiancé’s fifty-thousand-dollar ring, and in return for being a dickless, brain-dead fucking wonder, you get to sift through his shit to find it.”
“Whatever. I’ve sifted through worse than dog shit. Leave the little fucker down here, and I’ll come down after lunch.”
“Nope.” I shake my head. I may be having a little too much fun with this. “Can’t take the risk of him eating it again, so you’re gonna stay with him.”
“No fucking way.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll bring you a plate,” I say, slapping his face in a brotherly gesture. “If there’s any left. The boys seem kind of hungry today.”
“You bastard,” Kick says, and all trace of humour is gone from his voice now. “You wouldn’t do that. Come on, man. It’s Ma’s lamb roast. Tank, brother, come on.” I walk up the stairs. Kick follows me, but I turn and block the exit, hitting the lock on the key fob in my pocket for the garage door, ensuring he can’t get out that way either. “Tank.”
“Merry fuckin’ Christmas, arsehole,” I say and shut the door, locking it behind me. It rattles on its hinges as he shoulders the wood.
“Tank. Let me out of here,” he bellows. I walk away, grinning.
“What’s up with the kid?” Prez asks, taking a hearty swig of his beer. He’s sitting at the table beside my mother, staring down at the spread of roast meat and veggies, gravy, and all the other trimmings.
“He already ate.” I shrug and take a seat next to my woman, leaning in for a kiss.
She places her tiny hand on my thigh and squeezes. “I love my presents.”
“Knew you would.”
“When everyone leaves, you’ll get to unwrap your present,” Ivy whispers, nipping at my earlobe. “I did half the work for you because I’m not wearing any panties.”
I groan as all the blood rushes to my cock in zero point five. The whole table is looking at us, and I spare an apologetic glance for my mother, who may not have heard our exchange, but like everyone else here she certainly got the fuckin’ gist. She grins at me and nods her thanks to Prez, who just slapped several pieces of meat on her plate. Under the table, Ivy’s fingertips dance along my thigh, dangerously close to my straining cock.
“Merry Christmas, Tank,” she says. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her into me.
Merry fuckin’ Christmas indeed.
NEVER MISS A NEW RELEASE!
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MORE BY CARMEN JENNER
Welcome to Sugartown (Sugartown Series #1)
Enjoy Your Stay (Sugartown Series #2)
Greetings from Sugartown (Sugartown Series #3)
Now Leaving Sugartown (Sugartown Series #4)
Sugartown: The Collection
REVELRY (Taint #1)
CLOSER (Taint #2)
KICK (Savage Saints MC #1)
TANK (Savage Saints MC #2)
Finding North
Toward the Sound of Chaos
The Way Back Home
Harley & Rose
Puck Love
Cake
Bittersweet (Co-write with Lauren K. McKellar)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Carmen Jenner is a USA Today and international bestselling author.
A hardcore red lipstick addict and a romantic at heart, Carmen strives to give her characters the HEA they deserve, but not before ruining their lives completely first ... because what's a happily ever after without a little torture?
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A Savage Saints MC Xmas Page 2
