Rush: A MacKenzie Family Novella (The MacKenzie Family)

by Robin Covington

  He settled back on his heels, looking down her while he stroked his dick. Livvy was lying back on the mat, bare breasts heaving with each breath as she flung her arms open wide. Her eyes were bright, cheeks flushed deep pink, streaks of beard burn on her skin. She looked edible and so very fuckable.

  “Come on and get inside me,” she said, as if she could read his mind.

  He dropped his head, shaking it with the realization that he was wholly unprepared for this moment. It was stupid, considering how Livvy and he always were around each other. It was a miracle if they could keep their clothes on in public.

  “I don’t have a condom down here,” he said.

  She stared at him, letting the news soak in. “There’s more than one way for me to get you off.”

  She drifted her fingertips down his chest and abdomen, snagging them in the waistband of his shorts, caressing the swollen head that protruded above the fabric. His body bucked forward and he moaned, brushing aside her hand to reach in and stroke himself.

  “I want your mouth,” he growled.

  Chapter Eight

  Good. She wanted to taste him.

  Olivia licked her lips, watching him as he moved up her body until he straddled her chest. Atticus stroked his cock, shoving his shorts down to his thighs with his free hand, baring almost his entire gorgeous body to her. His eyes never left her face and she could feel the singe of his gaze on her skin.

  He made her hot and achy, the fever of lust causing her to squirm as she felt her own arousal bouncing back from its temporary respite granted by her orgasm. She never fooled herself that one was enough or would satisfy her hunger for him. It had burrowed in deep from their first night together and once she’d fallen in love? It was a living, breathing animal that she’d been unable to contain.

  “Come closer.” Olivia reached out and wrapped her fingers around the wide girth of his dick, joining his own slow strokes up and down the shaft. She dragged her gaze from his to their movement, lifting up to lick the pre-cum pearling on the tip.

  She moaned at the salty sweet taste of him and he gasped, his entire body tensing for a moment before relaxing enough to give her control. Olivia slipped a hand around his ass cheek and nudged him closer, encouraging him to thrust as she licked him up and down, lingering over the vein bulging just under the flushed skin, knowing it would only make him harder.

  “I want to fuck your mouth,” he half requested/half demanded as he dropped his grip on his cock and traced the tip of it over her lips.

  She shivered, loving how he wanted her. It was primal and dirty and real.

  “I wish we had time to play at Club D,” she whispered as she cupped his balls and caressed the sack with her mouth and fingers.

  He jerked and growled a little bit, a rumbling she felt deep in her own sex as she squirmed under him. Damn, she was getting close again. Just the feel of him on her lips, the taste on her tongue, his dark, earthy scent surrounding her.

  “Fuck yes,” he agreed, taking himself in hand to press inside her lips, slowly and a little bit at a time. She wasn’t sure if he was teasing himself or her, but it worked. “I’d take you in front of everyone, letting them watch as you came apart under me. I’d find a third, maybe Carla, loving the view as I worked myself in and out of your pussy.”

  He thrust into her mouth as his words spun around them in the heated, humid air of the gym. Olivia relaxed, trusting him as she had so many times before to always push her to the edge of her comfort zone but never beyond. Her lips were wrapped around his cock and she loved the stretch due to his size, the heft of him on her tongue.

  She reached down between her legs and stroked her own aching flesh in time with his movements. She was so close, so achingly close to another orgasm that her eyes fluttered shut at the first touch.

  “Open your eyes and look at me, Livvy.” It was a common demand of his, wanting that connection between them. Sometimes she needed it too and sometimes it was too much, forcing her into a headspace she wasn’t always thrilled to be in. That place forced her to face her true feelings and the knowledge that he didn’t feel the same way.

  His gaze was brutally dark, filled with all of the hard things that made him who he was. Pain and cynicism warred with the edges of tenderness and the fire of his desire. She saw everything he was in that moment—a man who’d been hardened by life but would accept kindness and affection from only a few. Not because he wanted to be cruel but because he didn’t trust it.

  But it was also clear that he wanted her. He cared deeply for her. But there was no love on his part.

  Atticus wasn’t built that way.

  “You need to come again?” he asked, snapping her back to the present as his thrusts into her mouth sped up. “Are you touching that sweet pussy? Wishing it was my tongue, my lips? Slide your fingers inside and pretend it’s me fucking you, baby.”

  She moaned, letting her eyes slide shut this time and keeping them that way. She planted her feet on the ground, bending her knees as she slid two fingers inside her, plunging in and out in time with his own hard pace.

  “Come on, Livvy.” His finger glided along her cheekbone and she opened her eyes, watching the sweat roll down his face and naked chest, taking in the strain in his muscles as he fucked her. “I’m so close, baby. Come one more time and I’ll blow, I swear.”

  It was too much. Atticus taking her mouth and her own hand finding all the places that would get her off fast. The orgasm was hard enough to bow her back off the mat and she writhed underneath the small part of his weight she did carry as he straddled her. His thighs were trembling with his effort not to crush her and to hold off his own pleasure until she came again.

  Atticus let out a jumble of wordless encouragement as he leaned forward, the perfect angle to thrust his cock into her mouth with sexy sharp snaps of his hips. His forearm muscles bulged as he braced himself on each side of her head. Olivia ran both of her hands up his thighs, cupped his ass cheeks, and delved between the taut muscles. With fingers slick with her own lube she found his hole and circled once before sliding inside with the perfect pressure against the tight ring of muscle.

  “Holy shit, yes,” he groaned over her and thrust a few more times before he came. She swallowed all of him, reveling in the taste and the knowledge that she’d brought this large, hard, invulnerable man to his literal knees with her body and the pleasure she could give him.

  It was an experience she would never pass up and never forget. That was a blessing and curse.

  He continued to plunge inside, gentler now that he had come but riding out the aftershocks. She sucked on him, giving him as much of the last bit of pleasure his over-sensitized skin could handle. He pulled out on a low groan from them both as he slid down her body until they were face to face.

  He traced his thumb along her bottom lip, his touch spreading the tingling warmth settling into her swollen flesh. His gaze studied her and she stared back, willing to let him look for whatever he needed and hoping he found it on some level.

  Atticus closed the distance, his mouth taking hers in a deep, hot kiss that usually was reserved for the beginning of sex, but they were both still hungry. This had burned off a little of the edge but the combination of lust, danger, worry over Katrina, and adrenaline made it impossible to quench. At least for her—and the way he was possessing her mouth, it was the same for him.

  “I can taste me and fuck that’s hot,” he murmured, breaking off the kiss.

  “I love it,” she answered honestly. There were few things she liked better. “I like you inside me, period.”

  This is what they did best. Sex had always been easy. Their compatible kinks, sex drive, desire to push boundaries, and trust had created a place where there was no shame and their needs would always be met.

  For them, the physical had been easy to ask for and give. The emotional stuff outside of the bed had been their downfall.

  “I like being inside you,” he countered, giving her a flash of a grin before
rolling off and flopping beside her on the mat. His long body was stretched out, long hair damp with sweat, his skin glistening and his shorts still pushed down. His cock lay on his thigh and she licked her lips at the sight. He caught her and let out a low, dark moan. “Don’t even start with that shit. I can’t fuck you again. We’ve got to get going.”

  “Carla arranged for Paulo to be at the club in…” She looked at the clock on the wall of the gym space. “…an hour and a half. Private room so that we can interrogate him.”

  “We? Have you been studying interrogation techniques while you’ve been gone?” he teased.

  “I’ve got the most effective technique right here,” she answered, gesturing with her hand down her entire body. “One look at me and he’ll spill it all.”

  Atticus’s expression darkened as he scowled at her. His voice was low and firm when he spoke. “He’s not going to touch you. If he even looks at you sideways, I’ll end him.”

  She stared at him, her entire being responding to his tone and her brain screaming, If you feel that way then why can’t we be together? He was infuriating and confusing and she wasn’t up to asking the questions she’d need to ask to get the answers she wanted from him. She didn’t want to have to pull them out of him anyway. She’d spent her whole life virtually begging at the table of her parents and brothers for the words or the affection that should have been freely given.

  She wasn’t begging this man because the only way she’d know it was true was if he told her on his own.

  Olivia stood and zipped up the front of her sports bra, turning to humor to end this situation without saying something stupid. “Well, let’s get going then. If I get bored I might have to break into your wall safe to save my sanity.”

  The look of horror on his face was worth the price of admission.

  Chapter Nine

  “What exactly is this place?” Brant asked, his eyes roaming over the private room at Club D.

  Rush scanned the faces all turned in his direction around the space: Brant, Jade, and Jake. They all stood around the space, firearms drawn and at the ready against the backdrop of the large four-poster bed and floor-to-ceiling mirrors on two walls. It was elegant and expensively decorated but simple. This was a room where people came to fuck, after all.

  Carla spoke up from where she lounged on the sofa with Livvy. “Club D is a private club for couples and select singles who enjoy the lifestyle. We have extensive grounds complete with an indoor and outdoor pool and hot tub area, a restaurant, a private entertainment club, and numerous private playrooms for the guests to reserve and enjoy.”

  “What exactly is ‘the lifestyle’?” Jade asked, only curiosity and no judgment in her question.

  “We are more commonly, and incorrectly, called ‘swingers,’” Livvy added. “But it involves more than wife-swapping and orgies in suburbia. The lifestyle is for people who want to be in committed relationships but also have the freedom to experiment with sex, but also just enjoy hanging out with like-minded people for social gatherings.”

  Brant turned to look at Rush and he knew what was coming next. “Were you a member of this club?”

  “I still am, along with Livvy and Carla.” He bit back a laugh at the surprise on his friend’s face. “I met Livvy at a lifestyle resort in the DR. We joined this place together.”

  “And you didn’t have any issues with your security clearance?”

  He shrugged. “As I explained to them, my lifestyle is only a problem if someone can blackmail me with the knowledge. I don’t publicize it but I don’t give a fuck who knows what I like to do in bed.” And he cut him off with the next question. “And before you ask, I like to fuck in public with my partner and in groups.”

  “So do I,” said Livvy, her gaze moving to Carla. “She’s a dedicated third.”

  “I join in when couples want a third to play with for a time.” She stood, her curvy body rising up from the cushions and her long, dark hair swinging down her back. The very high heels she always wore gave her an illusion of height she didn’t possess, but everything about Carla gave off a confident vibe. She was a respected psychiatrist in DC with a successful practice. “I’m also on the board of directors and if word gets out that I helped you guys with this little ambush, my ass would be out of here. So I’m going to go and leave you to your work. Paulo is on the property getting a massage. He should be done in about five minutes and I’ve left word for him to come here.”

  Livvy rose and gave her a hug. “Thank you so much. We’ll make sure to take him out the private exit.”

  “I know you’ll be discreet.” Carla gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Call me before you leave for dinner or some play time.”

  Rush nodded as she moved to leave the room. “Thank you again, Carla.”

  “I’d say anytime but…let’s not do this again. Okay?” She nodded her good-byes to the rest of the crowd and slipped out the door, leaving the room in silence. Whether or not it was awkward, he couldn’t tell. Nothing about this place or what happened here embarrassed him but it did make some people uncomfortable. He figured that it was their shit to work out and he focused on what they were here to do tonight.

  “Armed security is not allowed on the club side of the property, so Paulo should be alone, and while I hate to presume that he’ll be unarmed, most people wear little to no clothing here so I’m not sure where he’d stash it if he had it.”

  “Are these rooms soundproof?” Brant asked.

  “Yes, but for sex and not for gunshots, so let’s try not to fire our weapons if we can help it,” Rush said. “If he starts yelling before we can get the information out of him, we’ll have to gag him or knock his ass out and do this elsewhere.”

  “You seem to think he’ll cave fairly easily,” Jade added, adding a silencer to her weapon with a wink and knowing grin.

  Rush grinned back. He liked her and all the people Brant had assembled. They were trained and didn’t balk at what needed to be done, even the shitty stuff.

  “Paulo Guzzi is a pussy. He lives off his daddy’s money and dabbles in being a criminal. It’s one of the reasons that Figueroa uses him here in DC, easily manipulated and no real power base of his own. He’s got paid security but no organization around him even though he thinks he’s a big deal.”

  “He has extensive property in the area, in the Hamptons, and in Miami, as well as a yacht and a house on Lake Como. Lots of places for him to hide a young girl,” Livvy added from her seat on the couch. She looked sexy in a slouchy, long T-shirt dress that slipped off one shoulder. He wanted to walk over and bite the exposed, tanned skin and then lick his way down her body. This afternoon had been fun, amazing, and now he wanted more. Needed more. He thought he saw more in her expression as they fucked, but then she’d walked away on a joke and since emerging from her shower had been the same easy-going Livvy he knew.

  Warm and accessible but guarded as well. He knew he hadn’t put the wariness in her eyes, that had been her life and childhood, but he’d only seen it fade when they were married, and then it had come back tenfold when things had all fallen apart.

  He’d dreaded seeing her again, expecting fireworks and anger, but it had been okay, almost like the time in their early days when they’d enjoyed each other’s company, fucked every chance they got, but were still strangers with no investment between them. And while he was glad she wasn’t trying to kill him, it didn’t feel like it was enough.

  He shook all this shit with Livvy off, getting his head back in the fucking game. He’d fought against actually having her here. If Paulo got violent and things went downhill he didn’t want her in the middle where she could get hurt. Fuck, if that wasn’t his worst nightmare.

  He also didn’t want her to see him do his job. His real job. The one where he killed people without regret because he had to and he could. The one where he was anything but the hero they trotted out for photo ops when he’d worn the uniform. If most of the people knew what he’d been ready and willing an
d able to do when he’d gone into the zone, they’d take away his medals and ship him off to a secure facility.

  But you sure as fuck couldn’t complete the mission if you were dead and he always wanted to complete the mission. No exceptions.

  He looked down at his watch. It was almost time.

  “Jade you take point behind the door. Brant and I will be on the sides. We want him to see Livvy first and come all the way inside and get the door closed before we take him. Understood?”

  They all signaled that they understood the plan and got into position just as a light knock sounded on the door and Paulo stepped inside. He wore a robe, was barefoot, and his grin at the view of Livvy was pervy enough to make Rush itch to shoot him on sight.

  Jade pushed the door closed behind him and slid the lock just as Brant grabbed him and put him in an armlock. Rush moved into position and slid his gun into his mouth just as he was about to yell. The resulting sound was a muffled shout and a very distinctive whimper.

  “Hey, Paulo, remember me? You can just nod since your mouth is full.” He waited while Paulo nodded slowly, still struggling against Brant as he slid the plastic wrist restraints on him. “Good boy. Now, you’re going to stop trying to get away and you’re not going to yell for help. You got me? If you do, then I will put this gun back into your loud piehole and blow your tiny brain all over the wallpaper. Are we good? You can nod again.”

  Paulo paused for a moment, considering his options, but when Rush pushed the gun in a little deeper and his eyes welled up with tears when he gagged on it, the nod came quickly.

  “Good boy. Now sit.” Rush motioned toward the chair and Brant shoved him down in it. The man’s robe flopped open, revealing his flaccid, uncut cock to everyone in the room. “Dude, fix your junk. Nobody wants to see that.”

  Paulo squirmed his lower body, moving his legs to force the fabric to cover himself. When he looked up at Rush, who’d sat down on the coffee table in front of him, he spat out a number of curses in Italian. Rush knew enough to catch every other word.