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

by Rie Warren

Leaning her head back, she looked up at me. “I think that was just what the doctor ordered.”

  ****

  Shy had checked herself into the hospital so getting home was no problem with her car on the premises. And I didn’t worry about my Harley—one of the dudes would figure it out for me and get the bike wherever I needed it.

  After I settled Shy on the couch in her condo, I took her bag through to the bedroom. Hadn’t realized she always kept a go-bag in case of medical emergencies.

  The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

  I tried to set my fear aside, returning to bring her a glass of water to go with her antibiotics.

  She looked at the pills with disgust, her thigh propped up on a cushion.

  I settled behind her with her back resting against my chest. “You hungry?”

  “No.”

  Smoothing the little waves that clung to her temples, I murmured against her ear, “Tired?”

  “Are you my caretaker now?” Shy awkwardly scooted away from me.

  Bringing my legs off the edge of the sofa, I hung my hands between my thighs. “I’m whatever you need me to be, Shy. I want to take care of you, ya know?”

  “Why don’t you just get me my crutches and go home.” Her chin jutted, and she refused to look at me when I swung my gaze to her. “I didn’t want you to have to get stuck with an invalid girlfriend, Max.”

  She shielded her leg from my sight, throwing a blanket across her lap.

  “First you’re planning our family, and now you’re my girlfriend.” I grinned, snaking an arm around her shoulder.

  Shy could fight this thing between us and make it seem like she was doing me a favor cutting me loose, but that shit was a no-go as far as I was concerned.

  I snorted when she continued to ignore me. “Damn, woman, you move fast, don’t you?”

  Her small smile at my teasing quickly dissolved, and her gray eyes were bleaker than ever when she finally met my gaze. “I’m serious. You shouldn’t have to see me like this. Shouldn’t have to come to the hospital. We can’t have a normal family, might never have children of our own, and I don’t want you here if it’s because you pity me!”

  “Look, Shy.” Swiveling to face her full on, I cupped my hands around her sweet face made stark through emotion, all she’d gone through. “I’m not just in this to have a fuck buddy. You got problems. So what? I do too. We’ll deal.”

  She bit into her bottom lip, frowning.

  “I started wanting you before I even realized it. And I sure as hell didn’t want to get wrapped up with you because of my history, but I didn’t have a friggin’ choice.” I slid my palms down to her shoulders, forcing my feelings out through my lowered voice. “So we started this thing, and I like it. I mean . . . I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think you’re sexy as hell, and I love fucking you—”

  Her widened eyes popped to mine.

  “But I really like everything else too.” I rubbed a knuckle against her luscious lips. “I like how strong you are. How you fight for what you believe in. How hard you work.” I set my lips against hers, pulling her to me.

  Our tongues met in a warm wet circling touch that curled me closer, made me slant her head farther back, open her inviting mouth wider to my eager touch.

  When I withdrew, my tone was husky, my eyes captivated by her swollen, redder lips she licked where I’d just tasted her.

  “And I really like the way you make me feel, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Um.” She brought her fingertips to her glistening lips. “Wow. Okay.”

  “Good.” I boosted to my feet before I was tempted to do something inadvisable, like ravish her hot body when she’d just been released from the hospital. “Mind if I go grab a shower? Not smelling too fresh right now.”

  Shy tugged on my T-shirt. “I like the way you smell. Like the way you feel.” Slipping her hand underneath, she drew lines along the muscles of my abs. “Want me to scrub your back?”

  Mm hmm. Total temptress.

  “Rain check.” I dropped another kiss on her mouth. “Right now I want you to stay put.”

  Her fingers skimming lower, she brushed against my raging boner. “Doesn’t feel like that’s all you want.”

  “Naughty woman.” I broke away from her intensely arousing caress.

  My shower was fast—I spared only a glance at my erect-to-the-point-of-pain cock, hoping the thick-stick would get its big head around the fact it wasn’t getting off tonight.

  I had my shaft minimally under control when I returned to the living room, a towel slung around my waist, my hair damp, and water droplets trickling down my chest.

  Shy drowsily opened her eyes, then her gaze turned an intense shade of dark silver.

  I laughed uneasily, because the fucking towel was beginning to tent due to her steamy perusal of my body. “Gonna have to bring a few things over.”

  “Maybe I just want to keep you naked.” She reached out and skimmed her palm up the inside of my thigh beneath the towel.

  “Naughty woman.” Pulling her up in my arms, I crushed her to me with an even longer more luscious kiss that drove nearly all coherent thought from my brain. “Hmm. We shouldn’t start something we’re not finishing tonight.”

  “I’m not that sick.”

  “And I just want to hold you.”

  Shy laughed. Because my rigid cock pressed against her belly was sending a totally different message.

  I started carrying her to the bedroom.

  “I can walk if you just get me my crutches.” Her warm breath moistened my neck, making concentrating on my footsteps difficult.

  “I know you can. And I want to carry you.”

  When I placed her on the bed, she reached for her crutches and got right back up again. “I just . . .” she nodded toward the bathroom.

  “You don’t need to tell me anything. And just to be clear, I’m not only here because I want to help you. I’m here because I want to be with you.” I kept the towel on and hoisted up onto the bed.

  I checked my phone for calls and messages. My voicemail was a whole bunch of the MC dudes dialing in the concern for Shy and telling me to let them know if she needed anything.

  Those fucking guys.

  Then a bunch more texts about baby Roxanna with tons of photos attached. The dudes had apparently spent the past hour and a half playing paparazzo with the newest Steele.

  Shy came back out—fresh-faced and delicious-smelling.

  I swaggered toward her.

  A smile slowly curled across her gorgeous lips.

  As soon as I closed an arm around her waist, her mouth hungered for mine, tugging a chest-deep groan from me. Our mouths joined—wetly, greedily—over and over as I maneuvered us to the bed.

  With Shy settled on top, I raised her shirt up and off, immediately burying my face between her unbound tits.

  She hissed and arched up, her hands twisting into my hair.

  I licked one nipple before sealing my lips around the other, listening to her smoky moans.

  When my hands fell to her hips, she raised her bottom, and breathed out, “To be clear, this isn’t you helping me because I’m sick.”

  Once I got her free of all clothing, I whipped the towel from around my hips. “That’s right. Maybe I just want to keep you naked.”

  Her gurgle of laughter was stolen away as soon as I angled my lips to hers again.

  We weren’t gonna fuck. There’d be no release from the sweet and sexy torture we inflicted on one another—our mouths devouring, our hands exploring, our bodies rubbing together.

  Shy needed rest, and I just needed to be with her.

  I put half an inch of space between us when the hunger grew too hot.

  “Want me to go home?” I whispered against her hair.

  “Nope.”

  “Good, because I wasn’t going to anyway.”

  “Gonna bring some stuff over, huh?” she asked.

  “Yep.” I grasped her ass in a firm grip, s
miling smugly.

  “First you tell me we’re exclusive and now you’re moving in? You sure do move fast, Handsome.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Shop Girl

  “YOU SURE YOU’RE OKAY wearing this for a few hours?” I watched Shy as she put on one of the prosthetics she’d had refitted.

  She’d gotten a clean bill of health from her oncologist two days ago with the added prescription to take it easy.

  Taking it easy clearly was not a phrase Shy was familiar with. While she’d been on bed rest she’d gone for a walk every morning along the waterfront outside her building using the crutches she hated but for once accepted.

  As well as my help.

  Because I was completely, one hundred percent involved.

  That meant I’d drafted the dudes to complete the final kitting out of her store, which was opening tonight.

  Shy had ordered us around, bullied us, and downright laid down the law until the shop was fully stocked with clothing she’d sourced from sought-after vintage duds to hipster-chic shit—or as Shy called it, her inventory.

  Being part of her brute force posse did have its comic moments. Like pretty much all of them.

  Boomer reverentially positioning pairs of wicked high heels on glass-topped tables. He made sure the shoes were arranged just so, his big hands lingering on the strappy sandals.

  “Thinkin’ about buying some for Rayce or what?” Cole had called out.

  “Yeah. Maybe.” Boomer’s face had flushed like he’d been caught mid-triple-X fantasy. “None of your damn business.”

  Tail blowing long hair out of his face as he sat surrounded by boxes of flashy girly gear he sorted through.

  “Trying to see if they have your size, Tail?” Kinkaid had shouted from across the store.

  “Fuck you. You’re the one with the shiny man-thongs, stripper.”

  Coletrane unwrapping and hanging dresses with the lightest of touches, all the while cursing about the fiddly fuckin’ hangers he had to deal with.

  “That might be a good look on you,” I’d casually remarked when he squinted at a flimsy, filmy white sheath decorated with a sunburst of sequins to make sure it hung correctly.

  “Blow me. I don’t do sparkles.”

  “But they go so well with your eyes and shit.” Tail guffawed.

  Tucker polished his handlebar mustache in front of one of the long mirrors. “You know what’s missing from this scene.”

  “Brodie,” we’d all sounded off at the same time.

  Because if he’d been present—number one jackass—absolutely no work would’ve gotten accomplished.

  Brodie had taken paternity leave . . . from life.

  The dude was so wrapped up in Roxy, Cara, and Ashe he appeared to have dropped off the face of the MC earth to take care of his family.

  Couldn’t say I blamed him one single bit.

  He did, however, find time between diaper changes, homework and carpool duty, and being on-demand massage therapist to the new momma, to blow up our phones with an endless feed of photos.

  Cara wearing her I’m the big sister shirt, smiling down—braces and all—at her l’il sis.

  Ashe caught mid-doze with Roxy snuggled on her chest.

  Then the picture that launched about a million text messages:

  Little Roxy in her My dad’s a biker onesie complete with a pink Harley emblem propped side by side with her slightly older cousin, baby Danny. He boasted his own custom onesie that said My dad rides an Indian Chief bearing the classic red and gold headdress design.

  Shy had gotten quiet after that pic, received just a couple days ago.

  I’d shut off the phone, placing it aside. “What?”

  “I might not be able to have children.”

  Her heartbroken expression pretty much tied knots in my stomach.

  “I know.” I pulled her palm to my lips, kissing the soft center. “I’m so sorry about that.”

  “Does that make me less of a woman?” Tears had spiked the tips of her eyelashes before dropping to splash on her cheeks.

  I gulped hard, staving off my own waterworks. “Never. C’mere, Shy.”

  She’d melted into my embrace, crying softly, letting go of all the things she might never experience.

  When she’d calmed, I tilted her face to mine. “If you were any more of a woman I probably wouldn’t be able to handle you.”

  A light sparked in her eyes, the shiny depths dilating slowly. “Oh, you think you can handle me, do you?”

  “Wanna find out?” I’d smoothed my hand up her inner thigh, cupping her heat hidden by the frailest barrier of lace panties.

  Shy had thrown herself back into the shop opening, redirecting her creativity with a determined force that awed me every single day.

  The guys and I had done the grunt work, but the whole party-planning gig? Completely beyond our scope of questionable expertise.

  If we’d been in charge of that detail there’d be pool tables, beer in bottles, possibly some gratuitous weed, and maybe a few unsavory elements attending.

  I was pretty sure Shy—who sat on her bed dressed in nothing but a skimpy see-through thong and a barely-there bra that barely covered her tight pink nipples—had something a bit more upscale in mind.

  With only one hour ’til go-time, I lost control of all my basic functions, becoming nothing more than a drooling dude incapable of keeping my body in check.

  Apparently Shy recognized that look—the one that meant sex time—because she ruffled my hair that dripped to my shoulders and helpfully supplied a countdown to when we could fuck again.

  “Three hours, tops.” Her lips nipped against mine. “Then you can bring me home.”

  Groaning at the gorgeous spectacle she made with hardly anything on, I licked a path up her thigh where I always drew chills on her soft, scented flesh.

  By the time I reach the apex, she’d widened her legs, gripped my hair in her fists, and arched her hips.

  “Three hours?” I breathed against her sensitive skin.

  A small wet spot appeared on the triangle covering her pussy.

  I lapped at the slippery wetness, easily locating the swelling bud of her clit beneath sheer fabric.

  “Max!” She crushed me tighter against her. “Oh God. We have to go soon.”

  I dipped my tongue beneath her panties and burrowed into her snug hole for a long lingering lick before easing back to my haunches with her panting in front of me.

  My eyes heavy and hooded, I ran my palms down both legs to her feet—one warm and real, the other firm and unyielding. “We’ll finish this later, baby.”

  With her hand pressed to her breasts—breasts I wanted to bury my dick between—she blew out a shaky breath. “We better get dressed then.”

  Standing, I winked at her. Naked as the day I was born but one hell of a lot bigger and more ripped.

  “Why? Having second thoughts?” I gripped the base of my cock and gave a slow stroke upward. “Maybe we should just stay home.”

  Shy’s fingers moved toward my erection. She visibly swallowed.

  “You’re not going to talk me out of going tonight.”

  Moving closer, I dragged the wet tip of my cock across her lips, back and forth, back and forth. “Open.”

  She did, and her tongue hit the thick swollen ridge, circling around the shiny cliff head.

  Moving even closer until my calves brushed between her spread legs, I lowered my cock between her parted lips until they formed a slick stretched oval.

  Heat traveled up my spine and shivers shook me to my feet.

  I pulled out, the heavy slap of my cock to my stomach drawing Shy’s lambent eyes to the thrumming shaft and my full balls.

  I kissed her wet mouth. I nuzzled her ear. I licked her neck. “Just wanna make sure you have enough energy to suck me later. Because I wanna come in your mouth before I fuck your cunt.”

  I loved watching her reaction to my rough words. She closed her eyes, inhaled through p
arted lips, sought me with her hands on my bare hips.

  I hauled her gently off the bed and swatted her fantastic ass. “Now we get dressed.”

  For the moment, Shy’s and my arrangement remained informal. I planned to change that deal pronto. Diablo had made no new appearances or threats, but I didn’t doubt him for an instant. The bastard was pure evil and all business, which meant me sticking close to Shy? That was a given.

  I’d moved some clothes and essentials into Shy’s place, we’d exchanged house keys, the whole nine yards.

  Informal.

  Right.

  She was first woman I’d ever shacked up with for more than a few nights and I was already making plans for our future.

  Tugging on my shirt after doing the stiff new jeans thing with a stiff hard cock, I toed into my boots.

  “Is everything ready for the party?” she asked, pulling her dress off the hanger in her massive closet.

  “’Course it is. You know I enlisted Lucy from Chrome and Steele. She planned Boomer and Rayce’s wedding. Got it covered.”

  “Hmm. We’ll see.” Shy hummed with her dress slithering down her arms and slipping along her body.

  The above-the-knee creation was all deep plunging V in front matched by a deeper plunging V at the back resting just at the top of her ass in sunset colors that set off Shy’s naturally glowing skin.

  With her want me some of that ass finally—basically—covered by the dress, I zipped her in. And I kissed every inch of golden skin all the long sinuous way up her back. My lips coming to a rest at the nape of her neck, I curled my arms around her, rocking her against my straining body.

  The sex, once she’d recovered, was off the charts full on fucking hot. Tear it up. Torch it up. Set the sheets on fire full on fucking hot.

  And I wanted more.

  But Shy was on a mission.

  Stepping away from me, she spritzed on heady smelling perfume. Applied a glossy layer of lipstick I was gonna kiss clean off her as soon as I could get to her mouth.

  “Killing me here, Shy.” I jangled the keys to her Hellcat in my pocket.

  “Wouldn’t want that, would we?” She sent me a sexy vixen sort of smile.

  I narrowed my eyes.

  She tucked her hand in my elbow.