by Rie Warren
Cat held a hand at her mouth, giggling.
“Shit. Probably shouldn’t swear in front of him, right?” He went on with the gentle bouncing technique, cursing again. “Sometimes need to bite my damn tongue around Cara too. But fuck, this little dude’s cute as hell.”
Most of us were chuckling with laughter by that point. Typical freakin’ Brodie.
He whispered, “Just remember, Danny-boy, I’m your favorite uncle. Brodie. Not Boomer.”
“Bullshit.” Boomer struck his arms across his chest. “I already rate with Cara.”
“And I think Josh might have something to say about that,” Nicky countered.
Brodie snorted. “He ain’t even blood.”
“Like he gives a shi—” Nicky glanced at Cat then amended, “Like he gives a . . . sugar?”
This place was a goddamn circus. Definitely had enough fucking clowns to take it on the road.
Daniel woke abruptly, stared up at Brodie, and immediately kicked off with an ear-splitting wail.
Boomer looked vindicated.
Brodie frowned. “I swear I didn’t do it.”
Nicky stepped forward to collect his pissed off baby. “That's his hungry cry.”
Cat grabbed the diaper bag, slung it over one shoulder, then held her arms open, immediately murmuring to Daniel in sugar-soft tones. His crying slowed to little whimpers.
Heading toward her office, Cat shot back, “Don’t worry. He's fast just like his daddy.”
“What's that supposed to mean? You better not be talking about when I fuc—”
Swinging back to clamp a hand over her husband’s mouth, Cat stopped Nicky. “I meant you eat fast too. And what did we just say about swearing in front of Danny?”
She swept off, and we chuckled again, seeing Nicky Love—famous romance author—brought to heel.
Unlike Viper the dog, who whined at Cat’s retreating back like a lost puppy until Nicky absentmindedly reached over to rub just behind her perked-up ears.
Boomer sat on Lucy’s desk. “So, how is it?”
Dropping into a seat, Nicky looked up with those deep purplish eyes. “Terrible. He's always on Cat's boobs when I wanna be on her boobs.”
Brodie coughed into his hand. “Uh. TMI, dude. That’s our sis you’re talkin’ about.”
Nicky carried on, unfazed. “I've never seen anything like his dirty diapers. And sleeping at night? Forget about that ever happening again.”
Brodie suddenly looked petrified.
I hid a smile behind the palm of my hand. Fucker was gullible.
Raising his eyes again, Nicky grinned so hard I thought his face would crack in half. “It’s fucking awesome. So amazing. I’ve never felt anything like this in my entire life.”
Brodie wilted in relief, his hand splayed on Nicky’s shoulder.
Then he peered at me from his mane of blond hair. “Think it’s time for a testosterone check after that shit. Ready to work out? Or you wanna hang around and change diapers or somethin’?”
“Man, you’re the one who’s been shedding tears and leaking estrogen.” I razzed him, earning his hand at the back of my head as we shoved out of the Chrome and Steele office.
“You try becoming an almost baby daddy.”
“Not in the cards for me, my friend.”
“Yeah.” He sprinted in front of me then turned around. “’S’what I used to think too.”
Out back of Retribution MC, the enclosed area resembled a jail yard—not that I’d know about that . . . much.
The pavement was packed with various forms of torture devices otherwise known as weight machines. The summer sun multiplied its heatwaves, and if Bo wasn’t busting my balls, Brodie had no problem taking point as drill sergeant.
I’d already packed on thirty pounds of sheer rock hard muscle, and topped Brodie on the scales. While he was lean and scrappy—dirty-mouthed and lippy—I was turning into a knock ’em out bruiser.
Tying back my hair, whipping off my shirt, I threw down at the bench press, Brodie goading me by setting an extra ten pounds on the bar to test my limits.
Or kill me dead.
I hadn’t decided yet.
Best buddy?
Maybe.
Evil shit.
Definitely.
He spotted me.
I pumped the iron.
Brodie killed time with his nonstop smack-talk. “Hey, Maxi Pad, now that your name’s not a secret anymore—”
I glared up at him with sweat dripping down the sides of my face.
He grinned. “Challenge you to a bench-press-off?”
“It’s Max, which you’ve known since I started working here, boss. I prefer Handsome.” Gritting my teeth, I lifted the deadly heavy bar above my head again. “Besides, I’m the only one doing any work out here. And if you wanna give me a nickname”—my biceps bulged, my chest strained—“how about To The Max?”
He choked on laughter, and I heaved the weight onto the stand with a last grunt. Stepping away from the bench press, I swabbed my discarded T-shirt across my pumping chest.
“I thought it was Good to the Last Drop just like Maxwell House.” His wicked smile grew. “That what happened with that Shiloh babe the other week?”
My eyebrow arched into the atmosphere. “Shy? Sucking my cock? I don’t think so.”
“She was into you, man.”
“Like a sister.”
“Ya know”—Brodie followed me when I hit the fucking sandbags—“I heard from Nick incest is making a comeback.”
It was my turn to choke.
“In the romance world anyway.” Standing next to me, loudmouth dug into the sandbags, hefting them two at a time at the same rate as me as we dodged across the wicked obstacle course devised by Bo. “Stepbrother books, all the rage,” he huffed out.
“You’re fuckin’ with me.” I slammed both sandbags from my burning shoulders to the ground and picked up two more to start back on the same zigzag pattern across eight yards of overturned tires, tricky crisscrossed wires meant to trip us up, and the final jump across a murky, dugout ravine.
“Nah. But I think that Shiloh of yours wants to be.” Brodie catapulted his sandbags across the lot until they hit the fence.
“Whatever with the books.” Shudder. “But it’s not like that with Shy and me. Known her since forever. She’s friends with my sister.”
My estranged sister.
“Shiloh’s fucking hot.” Coletrane came out to shred some weights, catching the tail end of our conversation.
“And that’s somethin’ I never wanna hear come out of your mouth again.” I turned my snarl on him.
“Riiiight.” Brodie chuckled, wiping a towel down his face. “All about the brotherly love, Handsome?”
“I’ve had enough of you jackasses.” I’d already spent way too much time since Shy stepped back into my life thinking about the consequences of all the shit I’d pulled in the past.
No matter what, I wasn’t about to let any blowback from those bad old days touch her. “I’m done here.”
“Why? ’Cause you’re already Maxed Out.”
Jesus Fucking Christ. This shit with my name was already getting tired.
Slinging my shirt around my neck, I grabbed a bottle of water and drained it. Three-pointed it into the recycling bin and started toward the MC for a quick shower when Tail swung his head out the back door.
“Your lady is in the hiz-ouse, Handsome!” He called out.
Shit.
That could only mean one thing.
Shy was back.
Chapter Five
Babe Fever
BRODIE PERKED RIGHT UP, quickly wiping his body down. Cole peered over with interest, too.
“Where?” I asked.
“The front. That is one fucking helluva hot ride she’s got.”
“You better not be talking about her ass,” I grumbled.
“That too.”
I nailed Tail with my dark glare.
Brodie cleared
his throat as I stalked past the other man. “He has very brotherly feelings for Shiloh.”
Bastard was rolling his eyes. I knew it.
And dogging my heels. I practically felt him breathing down my neck.
No time for a quick rinse off, not if I wanted to get to Shy before drooling dickheads salivated all over her, apparently.
What the fuck was it with these guys and new cherries?
Strike that. No way in hell was Shy becoming the latest cherry on the block. No fucking way. Rayce and Sadie had been the last two, and they’d been snatched up by Retribution dudes. Not that there was anything wrong with the matches they’d made with Boomer and Kinkaid, respectively.
But a sassy, sweet, super smart South of Broad woman—my childhood pal—was not gonna become jerk-off material for a bunch of roughnecks.
Ripped and ready, I cut through the dim, cool interior of the MC.
Sweaty, half naked, with my shorts riding low, I stomped past the pool tables.
My tats gleaming, my muscles charged, I barged out the front door. Brodie trailed me, grinning like an evil ape when I swung my head back to—yup—sling about my fifth glare of the day c/o Shiloh Lockhart.
I was usually a pretty easygoing guy.
Something about having her hanging around turned me into a snarling animal.
Then I saw her helluva hot ride—a fucking white Hennessey Hellcat with a black racing stripe.
Holy. Christ.
The hot coupe with total street cred was nothing short of drool-inducing for a gearhead like me. A flat-out, top-of-the line, bitchin’ ride.
And then I took stock of Shy, leaning against the abovementioned droolworthy Charger, looking no less jaw dropping herself.
Strike. That.
I meant I could see why Tail trailed out after us, then Cole.
Had nothing to do with my gut deep reaction to seeing a gorgeous woman with a delicious body wearing a long raspberry-colored dress that tightened over her tits and flowed around her legs. Or the hint of sunshine in her smile when she saw me. Or the sleek blonde-brown sun-drenched hair.
Or the luscious lips.
Not At All.
“’Zup, Shy?” I reeled in my tongue, half-shuttered my eyes, took anything but a platonic, good old friends greeting off the table.
Unfortunately I hadn’t counted on her inspection of me.
Her soft silver-colored eyes roamed and roved over me as she licked those—yup—luscious lips. I straightened taller the longer she detailed every inch of my body—most of it bare, most of it hard, a lot of it inked—and the color in her cheeks brightened.
Fuck. She was making me self-conscious. I almost ducked my head in an aw shucks move.
Brodie would get his rocks off about that.
Not gonna happen.
She slowly—in a silky movement—pulled herself away from the Hellcat. She came to me at what had to be an intentionally seductive pace.
Or my breath had roughened for nothing.
Didn’t look like nothing.
Really needed to be.
Hellcat?
I might have to start calling her that.
Could I hold out my fist for a knuckle bump with Shy? Back slap? High five?
Because hugging her at that exact moment might prove lethal to all my just an old friend dictates.
Shy took matters into her own hands, pulling me to her by the back of my neck while I played wooden soldier in her embrace. Something sure was catching wood.
Between my legs.
So wrong.
“Uhm.” Disentangling her arms from me, I created some space and hoped my shorts were baggy enough to hide a growing boner. “What brought you here?”
I heard Tail loud-whisper to Cole. “She wants some of that.”
“Handsome’s makeover’s working out then.”
“Nah. Dude. He’s magic. Could always pull pussy.”
Brodie strode up to the duo and smacked each of them on the back of the head. Not that he wasn’t capable of the same damn loose-lipped bullshit.
Shy—Miss Manners and all—pretended she hadn’t heard a thing. And for that I loved her.
“I was just on my way to a meeting and I got a flat.” She pointed to the rear left tire. “Hoped you could help?”
I took a turn around the sizzling hot Hennessey then hunkered down to inspect the dead tire. “You should really take this to Stone’s. It’s their specialty. I can put on the dummy tire and drive it over if you want.”
Lifting to my feet, I realized Shy was way too fucking close in proximity.
Her fresh, beach-swept scent slid over me.
Her silvery eyes shone under a long fan of eyelashes.
And one step closer, her tits would hit my bare chest.
I stepped back, wiping my palms on my shorts.
“But you were always into this kind of thing. You can take care of me, right, Max?” Eyelash flutter and sweet smile.
Shit.
Brodie—bastard barbarian—shoved me forward. “He’ll do it. On the house too. We got just the right tire inside.”
I walked over to the garage side of Chrome and Steele and rapped on the wide door. “Open up.”
My feet pounding on pavement, I struck back to Shy and the Dodge that gave me an instant hard-on.
Because I refused to blame the sudden need to bust-a-nut on my old friend, never flame, the girl next door.
“Drive it in.”
“Why don’t you do the honors?” She tossed me her keys.
I looked at the car. Looked at her. And decided I might never get the chance to drive a Hellcat again.
Shrugging, I eased into the driver’s side then pushed open the passenger door. “Hop in.”
With a smoky laugh, Shy curled in beside me.
I started the car, and the loud purring engine sent another jolt to my dick.
This coupe was goddamn heart-stopping gorgeous.
Come to think of it, so was Shy.
Not going there.
I found my voice somewhere deep down in my chest. “What made you buy this?”
“I like my toys to be hard, fast, and sexy.”
“Toys?” A ragged breath rasped from my throat.
Her hand ran along the dash then fell to the console between us.
“Mmm,” she purred out.
As soon as I parked in the shade of one of the garage bays where Brodie and I took care of the custom work, I hopped out like my ass was on fire.
Something seemed to be.
Not my ass.
Definitely my cock.
Shy slid out more slowly.
I started the hydraulic lift, grabbed a wrench, and said, “Not sure how long this’ll take.”
“I can wait.”
Ugh.
I bet Tail was thinking unf. He hung in the shadows, catching allll the action. No doubt intent on giving the Retribution officers a full debrief on possible flirtation later.
If he started betting about the possibility of Shy and me I was gonna kick his motherfucking ass to Kingdom-Motherfucking-Come-and-Don’t-Come-Back.
Changing a tire took about five minutes when I was in a hurry.
I managed to draw it out.
I popped off the lug nuts with my wrench and laid the flat on the floor.
Brodie rolled me the new tire, and I lifted it into place.
Shy—standing behind me with a full view of my Retribution MC backpiece—made a low noise in her throat.
I never worked without a shirt—grease got everywhere—but Shy’s presence and whatever juju magic she suddenly held over me got inside my head, inside my body, a hard body I wanted her to see.
“So this is like child’s play to you?” She stepped beside me.
With the tire in place, I swabbed a clean cloth across my forehead. “Pretty much.”
“Did I interrupt your work?”
“No. Was just lifting weights out back.”
Turning back to the other nuts I had to
spin in place to secure her tire, I was totally aware of Shy checking me out when she said softly, “It shows.”
Every single part of me flexed, clenched, threatened to overload with the dominating fuck yes sex I craved.
Unleash everything building inside me all over Shy.
Somewhere in the background I cottoned onto Brodie threatening Tail with bodily harm if he didn’t clear out of the area before slipping out the side door, too.
The only thing I registered after that was Shy, her sex-on-wheels car, and the two of us. Alone.
Getting back to work, I ignored everything going on in my groin.
Tried to.
She didn’t back off or look away.
Tightening the last nuts, I pressed the button to lower the Hennessey Hellcat.
The hydraulics weren’t the only hiss sounded off in the garage. I sucked in a breath between my teeth when Shy slipped a hand up my arm.
Maybe she just liked the tats, but her fingers continually strayed to my forearms, and I noticed.
I shifted away. “Should check the alignment.”
“Want me to ride along?”
I definitely wanted her to ride something. Goddamn that long berry-colored sundress. It had me wondering if her nipples were the same deep color.
Punching forward, I cranked into the driver’s seat. “I got it.”
The rip-roaring thrill of the Hellcat almost took my mind off this forbidden fruit, this unwanted thing, this un-looked-for attraction pinging desperate need to my gut.
I took the Charger around the block, feeling that same high that always made my spine tingle when I had a tricked-out car in my control.
The thing was a sheer beast.
It impressed me Shy could handle it.
Made me wonder how well she’d handle me.
Revving the motor down, I turned back into the compound, squealing to a stop beside the garage.
Shy was surrounded by men.
Dick-tits beat feet as soon as I exited the Hellcat.
Good idea.
Wiping the scowl off my face, I strutted toward Shy. “You’re good.”
I dropped the keys in her hand.
She wound her arms around my neck and pressed her lips against my cheek. “Thank you, Max.”
Disengaging from her infectious heat and curvy body, I ran a hand through my hair. “Why’d you come here?”
