Rush (Men of Rapture #1)

by Faye Byrd

  “Ugh. Don’t remind me,” I say, sliding onto one of the stools as he pulls it away from the bar. “We got off to a slow start, but we’re here and ready for a drink.”

  “Ditto,” Elle says, settling on the other stool.

  “Yo,” Rush calls to a man farther down the bar. “My friends are thirsty.”

  The man stands taller, his gaze slipping to me before a large smile spreads across his face, and he saunters our way. “What’ll it be, gorgeous?” he asks, but then he looks past me. “Oh, there are two of you. Niiiiice.”

  He sends Rush a congratulatory grin, and Elle rolls her eyes. “Yeah, two friends who’re thirsty and ready to go to another bar for their drinks.”

  “Feisty,” he says, lifting a brow toward a chuckling Rush. “What can I get ya, ladies?”

  “A beer works for me.” I shrug, looking to Elle.

  “Same for me, except I think I’ll use it as a chaser. Give me a shot of Jack, too.” He just stands there, looking at her expectantly. “What?” she snaps. “Did I stutter?”

  “She’s a fucking handful,” Rush says, his voice low and his lips close. “Now I see why you’re friends.”

  I drop my chin to hide my smile. “I think you have that backward.” My mischievous eyes find his. “You’re the only other handful around here.”

  He tilts his head, considering as he runs his tongue across his lower lip. “I’ll give you that, but—”

  A loud screech comes from beside me, interrupting us as Elle jumps from her stool and wipes down the front of her shirt. “You idiot!” she yells, shaking beer from her wet fingers. “How could you possibly have a job as a bartender when you can’t even hold a glass of beer?”

  “Shit,” Rush exclaims, stepping forward and handing her a napkin. “What the fuck, man?” He turns to the bartender. “Are you trying to ruin shit for me?” He leans across the bar and snatches the hand towel off the man’s shoulder. “Here, Elle. I’m so fucking sorry. There’s a restroom right down that hall if you’d like to dry it with the blower thing.”

  She gives the bartender a death glare before turning and stomping off. “Maybe I should go with her.”

  “Wait just a minute,” Rush says, grabbing the back of my shirt as I start to follow. “Why don’t we get a table so when she returns, she won’t have to deal with Niko, the fuck-up.”

  Rush is giving Niko the side-eye, and the bartender palms the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, man. Shit.” He runs his hand through his curly chestnut locks. “I don’t know how the fuck that happened.”

  “I bet.” Rush smirks. “Bring us a pitcher and some glasses, and just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Will do.”

  The next little while passes without incident. Elle returns from the restroom with her clothes mostly dry and her perky attitude intact. Niko gives her a wide berth each time he comes to our table, but his eyes find her often. The conversation between the three of us stays light and superficial, like a few friends grabbing drinks, so I’m caught off guard when Elle points out it’s already after nine.

  “Wow, already?” I ask, looking around for a clock. “Time flies when you’re having a good time.” I smile at Rush. “This really has been a fun night. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

  “Wait a minute.” His brows furrow slightly as Elle stands. “What’s the big hurry?”

  “When she goes, I go.” I shrug as I kill off the last swallow of my beer. “My car has a flat, and I’m depending on Elle to give me a ride home. You didn’t notice she’s been drinking water the past two rounds?”

  “I did, but I didn’t realize that meant you were leaving, too.” He puts on a pout worthy of an adorable little kid. “I wanted to keep you just a while longer.”

  While his pout is kid-worthy, his eyes are on a whole other dimension. They’re sizzling as they convey a completely different language, one that’s forbidden among friends but all too common in the weird dynamic we share.

  I chew on my lip, my butt still firmly planted on the stool as Elle stands, waiting for me to join her. “I really do have to go. My car’s still in the lot, so Elle’s my ride home.”

  “I can take you,” he offers as he pours us both another glass of beer. “Just for a little longer. I promise I won’t keep you out too late.”

  Those eyes are doing it again. They’re putting me under a spell, but thank goodness Elle has the ability to think for the both of us. She reaches over and grabs Rush’s glass of beer just as he goes for it and pulls it safely out of reach.

  “Nuh, uh, uh,” she sing-songs. “If you’re even hoping to take my girl home, the drinking stops now.” Her eyes shift from him to me, and she lifts a testy brow. “I actually think you both should.”

  “Done,” Rush says, signaling for a waitress.

  Her brow lifts even higher as she waits for a response from me. “I’m definitely for the no more drinking, but I think it may be best if I just go with you. I still need a ride to work in the morning.”

  “You can stay,” Elle says, sitting Rush’s glass of beer onto the waitress’ tray as she collects the glasses and pitcher. “I can still get you in the morning.” Her eyes flash to a preoccupied Rush and back to me, questioning. “If this is what you want?”

  How is it that it’s exactly what I want and the complete opposite at the same time? Our evening has been great and I’m reluctant for it to end, yet I also know spending time alone, especially in this setting, is only asking for trouble.

  “I believe so,” my lips say, overriding the doubts in my brain. “I’ll text you when I’m home.”

  She smirks then, unfazed by my off-the-wall decision. “Yeah, you do that.”

  A whistle interrupts us, and we turn to Rush. He’s waving over the beefy guy from the door. “Skunk,” he calls as the guy moves closer, tilting his head toward Elle. “Make sure the pretty lady makes it to her car safely.”

  Elle holds in a snicker as she takes Skunk’s arm, not at all bothered by Rush entrusting her safety to the strange man. “Hey there, hunky,” she says, sending me a wink. “I’d be honored if you’d see me to my car.” She motions a “call me” sign as he leads her from the pub.

  After they exit, I turn to Rush. “Why would anyone want to be called Skunk?”

  He throws his head back and laughs, and it’s such a rich, happy sound that I want to catch it to keep forever. His eyes are sparkling when they finally find mine. “You have the ability to put me in my place, settle the raging beast, and crack me the hell up. That’s a fuck-awesome combo.”

  I shrug one shoulder, playing coy. “Who knew I was capable of so much?”

  “Oh, doc,” he says on a sigh, leaning into my personal space. “I knew it the first night we met.” He reaches across the table and locks his fingers with mine. “No woman has ever infuriated me so much and turned me on so fucking hard at the same time. You’re a conundrum, and I’m definitely going to keep ya.”

  “I’d like that,” I reply, closing the distance between us. “But do you ever wonder if the tightrope we’re walking is just too shaky?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like right now.” I lick my lips, the space between us arcing with electricity. “I’m one wiggle shy of diving over the edge and letting whatever happens happen.”

  His pretty eyes rove my face, questioning, but I see the exact second my meaning seeps in. He visibly stiffens, his fingers retracting as he sits up. “We can’t.” His voice is firm. “I need this, your friendship, too much to risk it.”

  “Of course,” I say, hurt churning in my gut even though I do cherish our friendship. “I know we’ve already discussed this. It must be the alcohol.”

  “Not at all,” he says, softening his tone. “The atmosphere around us is lit. I feel it too, but I want you to stay in my life, and that’ll never happen if we have sex.”

  “What makes you so sure?” I ask before I can catch myself.

  His face falls, and for
the first time tonight, he looks sad. “Because I’m incapable of sharing the type of intimacy it takes to have a girlfriend, and you’re one hundred percent girlfriend material.”

  “But you’re intimate with many women,” I retort, baffled.

  “That’s not intimacy, doc,” he says, shaking his head. “That’s me trying to feel anything at all.”

  “I don’t understand.” I chew my lip, uncertain how the things I read equate to the life he lives now. “I must be missing some critical information.”

  “After”—he pauses, taking a deep, shuddering breath—“Katherine’s death, I spiraled. I was the golden child, the one who nothing bad ever touched, so to be responsible for something so unforgiveable …”

  He stops to take a sobering breath, and I drag my stool closer, placing my palm on his lower back. “Whoa,” I murmur, moving my hand softly up and down “That’s not true. Why would you say that? You loved her.”

  He shakes his head, refusing my words. “You don’t know, doc.” He brings up his hands and waves them furiously. “I can’t do this right now.”

  “Okay,” I soothe. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

  “I’m sorry, doc.” His pained eyes are a bleak gray. “Our friendship is helping, but I don’t think I can be fixed.”

  “Fixed is a relative term,” I say, nudging his shoulder. “Who’s to say what’s normal or right to begin with?”

  He snorts, picking up on my attempt to lighten the atmosphere. “I’ll give you that, but I’m definitely not right or normal, so don’t go fooling yourself by thinking any different.”

  My heart hurts for him, but it’s clear he’s not ready to face his demons—yet. “I won’t,” I say simply. “But I want you to promise you’ll consider talking to someone … at some point.”

  “I’m talking to you.”

  “And I appreciate that,” I reply, smiling. “But I’m not qualified to help you.”

  “You’re helping me, doc.” He lifts my hand and kisses the back of it, and it’s such an odd move that it strikes us both as weird. He drops it quickly. “Shit. Sorry.”

  We both break into laughter, and that serves as a precursor for the next hour or so. We laugh as he makes jokes about almost everybody around us, while I sip Sprite and he guzzles water. At about ten-thirty, we finally decide to call it a night, as at least one of us has to be at work by seven in the morning.

  I stand by as Rush tells Niko we’re leaving. It’s obvious from their interaction that they’re more than bartender/patron. There’s a friendship here, and I can admit I’m curious. Rush acts like a lone man on a sinking ship, but I don’t believe that’s the case. Maybe he’s just incapable of seeing that right now.

  “Here we are,” he announces, drawing my attention.

  My eyes follow his extended hand to settle on a large hunk of metal. “Excuse me?”

  He lifts a black thing, not unlike a bowl, and places it atop my head. “We don’t have a helmet law, but I like to wear one to be safe, so tonight, you’ll wear it.”

  “You say that as if I’m actually getting on that monstrosity!”

  He chuckles, and I reach for the helmet, but his large hand presses it back down. “You’re wearing the helmet, and you’re riding. If you hate it, you’ll never have to ride it again, but you’re giving it a go.”

  “Fine.” I huff. “But I may never speak to you again.”

  He winks. “I’ll take my chances.”

  Infuriating man!

  But as I press my chest against his back and secure my arms around his waist, I’m less infuriated. The rumble of the bike’s engine vibrates through us as one being, and I’m barely infuriated. The cool night air burns my lungs and clears my mind, and I’m no longer infuriated at all.

  I fit perfectly.

  So perfectly that I hate it when he pulls up to my condo building and shuts off the engine. “What floor?” he asks as he flips down the kickstand and holds my hand as I dismount.

  “Sixth.” I take off the helmet and pass it to him.

  He hooks it on the bike and stands. “I’ll walk you up.”

  “Oh, that isn’t necessary,” I say halfheartedly, not quite ready to see him go.

  “I want to,” he replies, tossing an arm across my shoulder and pulling me under his wing. “Tonight was a good night.”

  We pass the security guard on the way to the elevator, and Rush isn’t exactly thrilled with him, an older man in his sixties. I do my best to soothe his worries, lest I end up with personal bodyguards or something equally outrageous.

  The elevator ride is quiet, and that’s when the tension returns. The tight, enclosed space allows the electricity to fester. It’s almost like its own entity by the time the doors open on my floor. I take a deep breath when I step into the hallway, hoping to quash that fiery feeling, but it barely helps.

  “This is me.” I put on a bright smile and turn to him. “Thank you for walking me.”

  The tension is too powerful for him, though, and he shoves my back against the door. “Jesus, doc. It’s so fucking hard sometimes.” He breathes deeply through his nose. “All the fucking time.”

  “Stop fighting it, then,” I whisper, cursing myself as soon as the words leave my lips.

  “I can’t,” he groans, and it’s a pain-filled sound. “I’m a black hole, and if you get too close, I’ll only swallow you.”

  “I won’t let you.” I’m almost pleading, knowing who he is and what he’s capable of, or more importantly, what he isn’t capable of. It’s like I’m begging him to break me, and I can’t stop myself.

  He tilts his chin upward, looking to the ceiling, before bringing his tortured eyes back to mine. “Our friendship is the most intimate connection in my life.”

  My stomach tightens.

  Leaning down, he presses a kiss to my forehead before wrenching himself away. “And I can’t afford to lose it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Spilling

  RUSH

  The doc drives me insane.

  I need her like I need air. Her aura bathes me in contentment and wards off the darkness, which allows me a taste of normalcy. She’s smart and happy and patient and kind. She’s also sexy as fuck, with a rocking bod and lips I dream of seeing wrapped around my cock.

  Resisting her has become a full-time job because she sure as fuck isn’t bothering to help me anymore. She pushes the limits of my self-control, and my only saving grace is the desperate need to keep her in my life.

  At first, she was a game, a way to extend the chase and keep the blood thundering in my veins, but the more we interact, the more real she becomes. She’s important now, a vital part of my life, and that’s the only thing keeping me from fucking it up for a quick roll in the hay.

  “Hi there, handsome,” Kelly says as she slips onto the bar stool beside me. “Aren’t I a lucky girl to catch you before the wolves descend?” Her palm moves up my thigh, and her tongue traces the vein along my neck before she whispers, “It’s been a while, baby.”

  My jaw clenches, but I don’t push her away. Her touch feels too good to ignore after depriving myself for the past week. It’s not like I need to get high and have sex—not today anyway. I feel oddly normal.

  “Kelly,” I grunt, acknowledging her as I lift my hips to press my cock harder against her hand. “It’s a bit early for this, no?” My words are resistant while my body bends to her will.

  “I can be quick, baby.” She pulls back to look at me, licking her skillful cock-sucking lips. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a taste.”

  “Fuck.” I stand and take her hand, dragging her through the kitchen and into the alley. “Be quick, baby. I have plans.”

  I brace myself against the wall, pull up my hood, and close my eyes so I don’t have to see what I’m allowing to happen. I’m better than this. It’s not like I need her, this, to keep from falling into a black hole, but I have to do something to stave off the constant urge to fuck the doc.

 
My fist clenches, and I slam it against the brick as her lips encase me. “Shit!”

  With my eyes closed, it’s easy to pretend. For one blissful moment, I’m able to imagine I’m with my pretty new friend across the alley. Her mouth skillfully navigates my cock, and I growl my pleasure, but the responding moan reminds me that it isn’t her. It’ll never be her, and it only makes me angry.

  A strange sensation prickles across my skin, and my eyes pop open, searching. Across the alley, a pair of dark eyes takes me captive through the window of the shiny red door. It is her, and she’s not backing down. I try to look away, shame burning through me, but I can’t. She’s holding me prisoner, dragging me into her universe, coaxing me with her stare, convincing me to pretend.

  My fingers claw their way through locks which are long and ebony in my mind’s eye. The pair of blue-gray eyes across the alley become larger than life, my only reality, as they take me on a mind-bending journey. My chest heaves, pleasure moving through me like a familiar electric arc, and my balls tighten as a ripple of ecstasy races down my spine and erupts from my groin.

  I explode with a growl.

  Her expressive eyes tether me in place, and I’m unable to look away. They’re so pure and needy, they convince me it’s real, if only for a few blissful moments. The result is the most satisfying orgasm of my life. But the sting of reality sucks—real fucking bad.

  “Tastes just like I remember.” Kelly stands and kisses me on the cheek, drawing me back to the awful truth. “Maybe you can buy a girl a drink.” She winks. “See you inside.”

  It’s for the best that Kelly’s gone before I can recover from that whole mind-fuck. But so too are the eyes across the alley, the ones I long to see most. It almost feels like it didn’t happen, like an out-of-body experience, except the tingles of electricity only she brings are still radiating through me.

  I don’t bother looking back as I re-enter Rapture and swipe a pint of Jack from behind the bar, leaving Niko a twenty in its place. My mind is spinning, but in the most unusual way. I need time to think. Time to get my shit together. Time to rebuild my resistance. Thank fuck Kelly’s nowhere in sight as I sneak out the door.