Rush: (Retribution MC Romance) (Carolina Bad Boys Book 5)

by Rie Warren

  “Brodie. Look at me. You foolish, foolish man.” Suddenly Ashe smiled, clear-eyed and in control of her emo-mess.

  I couldn’t friggin’ believe it. Brodie had dug himself out of a deep hole. Again.

  This shit could only be better with popcorn. And a fresh beer. From my couch.

  Tucker had the right idea about this MC. Good fodder for a soap opera or a porno.

  “Sorry.” Brodie bent his cheek to Ashe’s, his gruff voice resounding.

  “Come here, handsome.”

  I almost popped my head in the door, hearing my roadname.

  “Not you, Handsome.” Ashe didn’t even turn her head to look at me, but she knew I was there. A trill of amusement sounded in her voice.

  Brodie choked on a laugh, hugging her close. “Don’t you forget. I’m your handsome.”

  “How could I ever forget?” She sighed. “And what you said about having our whole family—our family—at the wedding. That was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “Yeah?” He asked, shock evident in his voice.

  “Yeah.”

  They kissed, and I ducked my head back—the sounds were evident enough.

  Oh Christ. I didn’t really mean it about the porno thing.

  “Brodie, you know we shouldn’t . . .”

  “I know. Not here. You’re loud.”

  “But you want to.”

  “Hell, yeah. When have you known me not to want you?”

  “But I’m huge.”

  “You’re beautiful. You’re carrying our baby. You’re sexy as hell. All these curves.”

  “I think you just want me because my boobs are enormous.”

  “Ashe. Shut up and kiss me and tell me you’re mine.”

  “I’ve always been yours.”

  I heard the sound of a zipper.

  Then Ashe, “I could help you out, Brodie . . .”

  “You first, babe.”

  Fuck.

  With all the hormones flinging around they’d probably fight about who got whom off first.

  Yeah. Right.

  I beat feet in a hasty retreat.

  The hallway was officially off-limits after I exited.

  I made a path through the dudes who had even fewer boundaries than me. Jumping on top of the bar, I whistled between two fingers.

  All eyes turned to me.

  “Yeah. Brodie and Ashe? They’re all good. But someone should probably crank the tunes because they might get a little loud back there, capiche?”

  One big crisis averted, I hopped down, took up my pool cue again, and felt a hell of a lot happier than I had earlier.

  I was even on a winning streak against Tail when he straightened from prepping for a shot that I hoped he’d scratch.

  Running his pool stick across his shoulders, he aimed a glance at me. “Girlfriend’s back.”

  I swallowed hard before allowing my gaze to find Shy just inside the door, her attention locked solely on me.

  Chapter Nine

  Shifting Gears

  I THWAPPED THE POOL cue down, surprised it didn’t break in half.

  Shiloh, again. The woman haunted me, day and night. I woke up from dreams of her, sweaty and frustrated and . . . really fucking hard for her.

  Then I remembered there was no possible future. Hadn’t been even before Diablo started leaning on me for a fucking bank-load of cash.

  And not to goddamn mention, Shy was a Friend. Capital F. For no fucking. Might as well throw in a P, too. For strictly platonic.

  Kid-sister material. Not a woman to mess with. Definitely not make out with.

  She really should look more like kid-sister material.

  I groaned under my breath.

  Growled out loud.

  Lowered my hands to my jeans, slinging my thumbs in my pockets, bulking my shoulders.

  I’d just play it frosty cool. Get her to go home.

  Ask her to stop torturing me.

  Or—better idea—just ignore the shit out of her.

  She laughed in her sexy, smoky way, responding to something Sadie said.

  Ignore.

  She accepted a drink from Cole, and her fingers brushed against his.

  Ignore.

  Another pair of tight jeans molded to her legs and ass. That ass. Her shirt was soft and loose and skimmed what looked like nice juicy tits.

  I shouldn’t even be thinking about tits and Shy in the same friggin’ sentence.

  Her lips looked moist. Her skin glowed golden. Her hair was shiny and straight. Her eyes . . .

  Dammit.

  I forgot to ignore her more.

  Her eyes—shiny as liquid silver—found mine again.

  I tossed the pool stick aside . . . about five minutes after Tail called the game a wash after I forgot I was even supposed to be playing.

  Standing at the bar, I drummed my knuckles on the top while Cole monopolized Shy, talking about his job at Inksanity Tattoos.

  “I don’t have any ink yet,” Shiloh said.

  I rolled my eyes, stepping in. “And you’re not gonna get any, either.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened innocently. “Hello, Max.”

  “Did you hear what I said?” I asked, stabbing Cole with a feral scowl until he backed way way way the hell off.

  “I did,” she murmured, nursing her drink. “But I already have a dad, and since I’m twenty-four I don’t take his orders anymore either. But thanks for your consideration.” Her tone was sweet-tart.

  “Shy.” I inhaled deeply, assaulted by her scent—fresh and sexy all at the same time. “There are things you don’t know about me.”

  “Ditto that.” Her bracelets jangled together when she lifted her drink.

  She slipped onto a stool, looking me over from head to toe in a way that made my goddamn skin shiver and very unbrotherly feelings rear up when my cock started getting hard inside my pants.

  I wondered what she saw? The former preppy boy or the MC badass? About fifty pounds of new muscle heavier than I used to be, I was nothing like the Bishop England grad she’d grown up with. Shy might not have any ink, but my skin was covered in a fuckload of tats. From my shoulders to my wrists and all over my back. I wasn’t wearing a button-down with chinos. More like faded jeans, big scuffed boots, twin gauges in my ears, and an old T-shirt that had gone through the wash so many times the fabric was no longer blue but blue-tinged-white.

  She looked like heaven and sin, sex and flesh and softness.

  And I was supposed to stay away from her.

  But my thoughts about her—especially when that half smile kicked up the corners of her lips—took a fast slippery slide from just friends to completely filthy.

  I knocked back my beer, gulping the last few ounces.

  “Dance with me?” Her glossy lips curved into a deeper bow, and she rested a hand on my bare forearm—the simple touch shockingly warm and cranking my denied arousal higher.

  I pulled away. “Uh. No.”

  No way. Because I felt something beginning between us, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not with her, and not with that asshole Diablo’s threats against her.

  Shy pouted, pouring on the flirtation with a batting of her eyelashes.

  “Shy. No.”

  Her temper finally flared. “I’m not a dog, you know?”

  Her shout resounded around the bar.

  “And fuck you too,” she added, just to make extra special sure everyone watching us—and those nosy fucks were watching—knew she was furious.

  Whirling away, she slinked toward Tail with a sway of her hips and linked her arms around his neck.

  He looked at me for one single second of apology before sliding his arms around her waist.

  Her small waist.

  His fingers dangled just above her apple-shaped ass.

  Her full ass.

  She laughed.

  He grinned.

  Her head tilted back.

  He followed.

  With his lips skimming h
er neck, he looked up and winked at me.

  My knuckles turned white.

  I almost broke my beer bottle in half.

  Shy laughed again, twirling away. And then she stumbled.

  I shot off my stool, but Tail righted her, catching her in his arms.

  She’d tripped that first time here.

  She’d limped a little the other night when we moved her into the condo.

  She’d been pale, shaky, tired, almost falling into my arms.

  And then there’d been the pill bottles in her bathroom. I hadn’t Googled that shit because I wasn’t a total stalker—yet. But I knew some of what those prescriptions meant.

  She wasn’t drunk. Shy wasn’t a lush. And she definitely wasn’t into drugs.

  But something was off. Something that rankled my brain.

  Something rankled me even more as I studied her.

  Tail’s hands on her.

  Yeah.

  Was gonna break them off at the wrists.

  He finally returned her to a seat, holding the chair out for her. Like he knew manners.

  Fucking A.

  Sadie joined Shy, and I kept on stalking/watching her.

  Tail had the balls to slide up next to me. “What does LYLAS mean?”

  “Don’t know, but I’ll fucking kill you if you touch Shy again.”

  Coletrane leaned forward between us. “Love You Like A Sister. As in he loves you like a sister.”

  Barking a laugh, Tail said, “Yeah. That’s what Sadie just told Shy about you, dude.”

  “I don’t love her at all.” I gritted my teeth.

  “Not like a sister, anyway.” Tail pushed his elbows onto the bar. “And me dancing with her? Just trying to prove a point since you’re too stupid for your own good.”

  Sadie approached, and I jumped off my stool so fast I almost knocked it over.

  “What exactly did you say to Shy?” I probably sounded half unhinged.

  Unimpressed, Sadie let one of her eyebrows arch high. Kinkaid watched me interact with his woman, because it was suddenly absolutely clear to everyone I was not acting like my usual easy-come, easy-go self.

  “I told her to stop wasting her time because there are a million other men who would give their left nut to dance with her, or buy her a drink, or I don’t know, take her out on a date!”

  Tail’s hand shot into the air. “Me for one.”

  Coletrane cleared his throat as if to volunteer, too.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  Then my words dried up. So did my mouth. Across the room, Shy lifted her arms, slowly winding her fingers through her already perfect hair. Then, to make matters worse, she pulled out a little compact and proceeded to pucker her lips and apply a glistening layer of lipstick, every motion incredibly feminine.

  She effortlessly drew the attention of every single man with a pulse in the bar. And when she kind of kissed her plump siren-red lips together, I groaned.

  I wasn't the only one.

  I suddenly found myself standing right behind her. She spun around, nearly smacking into me. And looked exactly like she wanted to smack me a good one. Not on the kisser but with her hand across my face.

  “You can back off now. I’m leaving, Max, just like you wanted.” The stinging tone of her words was almost as effective as a slap.

  I didn’t back off.

  Instead I frowned at her, basking in the heat pouring off her body, tempted again by her succulent red pout. “What the hell is this all about exactly? You’re mad at me because what?”

  I played stupid, knowing as surely as she did the atomic chemistry between us had been building for weeks.

  “You’re overbearing. You act like you need to protect me. You won’t give me the time of day except to treat me like I mean nothing but a sister to you.” Her eyes flashed up in anger, dangerously dark like smoldering embers and I had to wonder if she’d be this fierce, this passionate, if I gave in and kissed her into oblivion. “I can’t believe how goddamn blind you are! I want you!”

  Of course some smartass fuck turned off the music at that exact moment. And quickly cranked it right back up.

  “No way that’s gonna happen, Shy.” I reeled back.

  She followed, on her tiptoes, her nose almost pressed to my chin. “I got it, you asshole. Okay? And now I’m out of here.”

  She strutted around me, her chin thrust forward, her shoulders pulled back, and her tits leading the way.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going after dropping that bomb?”

  “To find someone man enough to fuck me,” she shouted.

  I grabbed her arm, halting her. “Like hell you will.”

  She struggled before spinning back to me. “It may have escaped your attention, Maxwell, but I’m an adult. And you have no say over what I do or who I do.”

  Dozens of dudes’ hands shot into the air.

  “I'm not about to let that happen.”

  She flipped her hair, challenging, “And why not?”

  “Because I'd probably have to murder anyone who touched you like that,” I said through gritted teeth.

  Her eyes widened, and I couldn’t believe I’d said that out loud.

  Now I am fucked.

  Might as well screw everything up all the way, then.

  I released my hold on her arm only to slide my palm up to the soft skin of one bared shoulder.

  She licked her juicy lips.

  I watched the action, letting the attraction I’d been denying all along pull us closer until her breasts cushioned against my chest, and I felt the distinct crests of her nipples.

  “Max?”

  I grinned a little, lowering my voice. “You can call me Handsome, you know.”

  “What if I don’t think you are?” Her tone was teasing and breathy, her tits rising and falling rapidly.

  I grazed the side of my cheek against hers and my voice came out rough beside her ear. “I think you do.”

  Her hands skimmed up my back to my shoulders, and I grasped the nape of her neck, closing the final distance between us.

  “Is this what you want, Shy?”

  “Yes.” She whimpered, a needy sound that spiked hot wanting inside me.

  As soon as our lips met I knew there was a damn good reason I’d avoided kissing her. This kiss was more. Lush and long and hungrier than all the ones I’d ever shared before.

  The angle was just right. I grunted when her tongue slid inside to find mine. I grabbed her ass and wedged her higher. Twisting my head, I bent over her, licking the soft inside of her mouth, pulling her throaty moans into the slickness of my mouth. Her lush lips plucked and pressed and melted against mine.

  Just one kiss.

  One kiss I needed to end.

  I ripped my lips away, a harsh groan battling its way from my chest.

  I rested my forehead against hers, and her belly cushioned my throbbing cock. I wanted Shy so suddenly, so much, but I couldn’t. Not when I destroyed every good thing I touched.

  “I need you to go now.” I was shaking with the urge to touch her, take her clothes off, bury myself inside her . . .

  Thrusting her away from me as gently as possible, I balled my fists at my sides to keep from touching her. “Don’t want you coming around the MC again.”

  She instantly bristled, stabbing a finger at my chest. “Last time I checked I was a grown-ass woman with boobs way bigger than your balls, so I’ll do what I damn well please . . . Handsome.”

  She stormed out, and I followed, pressing through the onlookers to get to the door. “Shy! Goddammit!”

  Already in her car, she gunned the engine.

  I stepped outside.

  I was surprised she didn’t run me over as she tore out of the parking lot.

  My reception when I reentered Retribution went as expected. Comments from everybody along the lines of how badly I’d royally fucked up with Shy.

  I was just about to leave so I could kick my own a
ss in private when Brodie and Ashe—both of them seriously disheveled—entered the bar.

  Wiping the gloating smile off his face when he caught sight of me, Brodie scowled. “Who wants to tell me what the fuck happened this time?”

  And every hand in the place, save mine, flew into the air.

  I suffered through a few minutes of off-color comments—Tail taking point—before Ashe heaved a giant sigh. “Seriously. Men-o-pause much?”

  Seriously? After her earlier breakdown?

  That was rich.

  Chapter Ten

  Come to Jesus, Boomer Steele-style

  I’D TOLD SHY TO stay away, and she had. That didn’t make me any happier.

  Two weeks. Two freakin’ weeks, and everyone was in love. Bo and Doc Ronnie finally got it on. Couldn’t get enough of each other.

  Ditto Kinkaid and Sadie.

  Boomer and Rayce.

  Hunter and JB.

  Brodie and Ashe.

  All the friggin’ happy couples.

  I had none of the happy, just all the eating away at my guts worries.

  At least working out with Bo and Brodie meant I had something to punch instead of beating myself up inside.

  After just one kiss I couldn’t shake the damn woman. I was downright unbearable. I made sure everyone at Chrome and Steele was as miserable as me during the day, too, then I brought my new best buddy—my bad mood—with me to Retribution every night. And I was sick and goddamn tired of jerking off pretending I wasn’t thinking about Shy night after long lonely night.

  I was doing the usual, sitting at the bar, slouched forward, a half empty bottle of beer in hand, when Boomer took the stool next to me. He pulled the stool closer, making sure that bitch of a thing screeched across the floor with such a fingernails-on-chalkboard scream I couldn’t possibly ignore him.

  “Not in the mood.” I cut him off before he could even start.

  Probably not a cool move to tell the president of the club to piss off before he even said howdy, but I’d apparently left my manners on the bar floor the last time I’d sent Shy out the front door.

  His hand fell to my shoulder, and he gave a low, dry chuckle. “That what you told Shiloh?”

  I shrugged his heavy hand off and continued my very intense inspection of floating bubbles in my bottle of beer.