The Davenport Christmas Chronicles - Piper Davenport Page 0,29

the second we made eye contact. Booker was young for a VP, but Cookie had insisted he take the position when he retired. Booker was the perfect man for the job...it just took a little time to convince him of that.

“Merry Christmas, brother,” I said, greeting Booker with a warm embrace.

“Thanks again to you and your old lady for taking point on this dinner.”

“No problem. I know you have your hands full with the toy drive. This year, more than ever.”

“You’re telling me,” he said. “Bikers for Kids are gonna be here tomorrow and Preacher isn’t done with the truck yet.”

Ace had found an old U-Haul truck that was in relatively decent condition, other than the bum transmission, and since the club needed a write-off before the end of the year, the plan was to fix it up and donate it to BFK for their annual toy drives and shit. Unfortunately, the plan wasn’t quite going...well, as planned.

“What the fuck has he been doing all week? He was supposed to have the transmission repaired three days ago.”

“With this early frost, it’s been like bumper cars out on the road. Big Ernie’s has been slammed with body work.”

Preacher owned his own shop. He’d started off working with me at mine, but we found we didn’t work well together, so for the sake of our club relationship, we concluded it would be better for him to move on. He ended up taking over Big Ernie’s Auto, which was where several of the club brothers worked, and he was doing well, which benefitted everyone. Big Ernie had several auto related shops around town, and the club had bought them out years ago but kept the names. The body shop’s lot was big enough for a club house, so we’d built the club buildings behind it. I should have taken on the truck repair myself, but we were overloaded...it sounded like they were having the same issue.

“Do we need to put some more guys in the shop?” I asked. “Maybe I should put Flea on truck duty.”

Booker shook his head. “I’m thinking we’re gonna need a little more than that. Listen, I don’t want today to be all about club business, but Crow and I do have some shit to talk to you about before the Saints show up. I promise it’ll be quick.”

I shrugged. “Sure, man. Whatever you need. Just let me know when he gets here. I’m gonna go check on Maisie. I need to make sure our head chef hasn’t fired the staff and run screaming out the back door.”

“Would you blame her?” Booker asked with a smile.

“I’d only be pissed if she took the turkey with her,” I admitted. “I’ve been smelling that bird all day and I’m about to lose my fuckin’ mind.”

“I’ve doubled my workouts for the past week in preparation for the holidays,” Booker said.

“You’ve been in holiday training?”

“Damn straight,” he replied in a completely serious tone.

I racked my brain for a way to bust Booker’s balls but felt compelled to reply honestly. “Respect.”

I found Maisie in the kitchen and despite my fears, she was doing great. She was now wearing an apron over her dinner clothes and looked like a cross between the perfect nineteen-fifties’ housewife and pinup girl. My dick hardened the moment I saw her and I began counting down the moments before I could take my wife to bed tonight.

Maisie was busy putting the finishing touches on about a dozen dishes. She floated through the industrial-sized kitchen, cheerfully giving orders to her team of sous-chefs, which was comprised of children and low-ranking Dogs. A kitchen full of pups, if you will.

Oh, and Cricket. I suppose I should stop looking at her as a kid, but old habits die hard.

“You need anything, Sunshine?” I called.

“Nothing that can be done in public, love.”

Fuck. As if I wasn’t hard enough already.

“Maisie,” I warned, and she smiled, walking to me and kissing me gently.

“You want to do something in private, love?” she whispered.

“Fuck, yeah.”

“Team, I’ll be right back. Keep doing what you’re doing,” Maisie directed, and took my hand, leading me into my office at the back of the building and locking the door behind her.

I turned her away from me, untying the top of the apron so I could get to her tits, pulling her sweater off, then her bra. I unzipped her skirt and pushed it from her hips. It pooled on the ground and left her in a red thong and black knee-high boots...and