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

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Rush: (Retribution MC Romance) (Carolina Bad Boys Book 5) Page 15

by Rie Warren


  I cupped her ass.

  We faced our reflection in the full-length mirror while we waited for the elevator to arrive. She wore the sleek wig for her first big public appearance, but her short skirt finally bared her prosthetic. Then there was me, the big, long-haired tattooed dude at her side.

  How I’d landed a woman like her I had no freakin’ clue.

  And neither did the Retribution dudes when we rolled up to the front of her store. As soon as I helped her out of the Charger, the guys practically mobbed my girl, giving me short shrift.

  I didn’t mind one single bit. Shy deserved all the attention. This was her night.

  She looked around, stunned at the scene.

  Hoards of people stood on the sidewalk and spilled out into the road, waiting for the grand opening of her pop-up shop. A giant banner hung outside, and bright lights highlighted the storefront where big windows carried cool displays of Shy’s merchandise.

  “You closed off King Street?” Her eyes opened even wider in wonder.

  “Just the block.” I threaded my fingers through hers. “We have connections.”

  The street was packed with posh-looking people, trendy thirty-somethings, college students . . . and then the motorcycle club. Everyone from Retribution MC had shown, including their women, as well as the ladies of Redemption MC. All but Brodie and Ashe, who were still on full-bore baby watch for the foreseeable future.

  “So many people.” She stood beside me, tugging at the bottom of her classy dress.

  I squeezed her hand, and she looked up at me—young and unsure. “Hey. Don’t hide yourself anymore, Shy.”

  “Everyone can see it.” Her lips drew into a tight line.

  I caressed the tension away with a brush of my fingertip. “What’d I tell you?”

  “It’s not ugly.” Her frown didn’t soften.

  “What else?” I urged.

  “I’m brave.” Tears suddenly shimmered in her eyes.

  “Yup. And you’re absolutely beautiful.”

  “Okay.”

  “Good.” I released her hand to let her stand on her own.

  I handed her the key but before she unlocked the door, I whispered against her ear. “Now you make a speech. And you own it.”

  Shy nodded and stepped up onto the top step.

  A hush fell over the huge crowd, and she cleared her throat nervously. “Passion for Fashion used to be just a dream of mine. It became a reality when I realized dreams aren’t just unattainable fantasies, but future goals.” Her voice started out shaky until she hit her stride. “I had to make PfF happen after I was diagnosed with bone cancer.” With a flick of her skirt, she actually drew attention to her amputation for the first time since she’d walked back into my life.

  “Not that I’m aimin’ to play the pity card, y’all.” She grinned and winked, pausing for laughs as she tilted her face to the side. “I couldn’t have done it without my boyfriend”—she leaned over to kiss my cheek—“or his friends from Retribution Motorcycle Club. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m no fan of long-winded speeches so . . .” Unlocking the door, she flashed the most beautiful smile. “Thank you for joining me tonight, and welcome to Passion for Fashion! Please help yourselves to the refreshments, and make me some money!”

  She kicked off another surge of laughter with her last comment.

  And a huge fucking surge of pride for her swelled inside me.

  The rest was drowned out in cheers, claps, whistles, and nonstop congratulations as the gathered folks filed into PfF.

  Yeah. She owned it all right.

  With my hand at the base of her spine, I ushered her inside where everything was subtly lit and all done up. Complete with catering and free booze. Sure hoped no one spilled on the duds because I’d learned that shit was expensive.

  From that point on the opening went off without a hitch.

  Shy.

  Charming folks was a natural talent for her. Southern hospitality? Check. She had that in spades. And by hooking up with me and hanging with my crew, then spending evenings at high money fundraising galas, she’d already proven herself in touch with all the people.

  She put every ounce of charisma to work as she worked the room.

  I did my best not to baby Shy or—you know—constantly ask her if she was all right or if she needed a breather. I plied her with food and drinks instead and tried not to cast too big a shadow by hovering too close.

  But she had something else in mind when she reached for my hand and dragged me to the top of the store. She situated us in front of a large rectangular table I hadn’t seen set up earlier, and I didn’t know what was on the table now, because a long white cloth covered tall, bumpy-looking shapes.

  Looked like some kind of big reveal was about to happen as she gave me a sneaky smile.

  “What are you doing?” I asked her.

  She ignored me, instead giving the thumbs up signal to Boomer Steele.

  “Yo. The lady needs your attention!” he boomed out, the big man commanding attention with Rayce at his side.

  Shy curled her arm around my waist, speaking to the room at large. “I know. I said screw the big speeches. This is just a little one, I promise.” With a snap of her thumb, the table behind us was unveiled with a snap of cloth.

  I turned to have a look, then I stopped blinking altogether.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Retribrewtion

  A TALL SIGN WITH my brand new brewery label stood inside a circle of four ice-filled steel buckets overflowing with . . .

  “Drink up! You’re Max’s first taste-testers. Retribrewtion will be on sale soon,” Shy shouted, grinning from ear to ear while I looked on, absolutely dumfounded. “Don’t forget to pick up a postcard and visit the website to sign up for the newsletter so you don’t miss Retribrewtion’s grand opening!”

  Website?

  Newsletter?

  She’d had my beer professionally bottled, labeled, and finished the early marketing.

  While I’d been working on her store, she’d been starting my business for me.

  Jesus.

  “Fucking hell, Shy.” I swallowed roughly. Rubbed my hand across my mouth. Wrapped my arms around her waist. “Don’t know what to say.”

  “I wanted to give you a leg up too.”

  “Very funny.” Cranking her up to me, I kissed the hot hell out of her.

  Her low moan filled me with roaring need. Her swiveling hips jerked me higher. And her answering tongue uncaged the wanna fuck animal inside me.

  Too bad we kept getting jostled by people raiding the table for Retribrewtion beer.

  “I think it’s a hit.” Boomer elbowed me.

  “Righteous name, dude.” Coletrane cracked open a brew.

  “The label is sick.” Tail inspected the black, red, and white logo based on the MC colors with the scales of justice balanced by bottles of beer.

  Shy slid her hand up my chest, and my heart pounded, my dick was capable of pounding, too. Pounding her to the mattress. Or a wall. Pounding her sweet cunt.

  “Okay. We’re going home now.” I grasped Shy around the waist and started leading her to the doors.

  “Wait.” Stalling me, she laughed with seductive amusement that filled all the way up to her eyes and all the way up to my heart banging inside my chest. “We have to stay for at least a little while.”

  “How long.” I hit her with a narrowed gaze.

  “Two hours.”

  “Fucking seriously?” The beast inside my pants whined. Not me.

  But anything for Shy.

  Hell yeah.

  Even if it meant I’d likely be hurting by the time this shindig was done.

  Figured Shy had one more surprise in store for me, which I found out when she led a certain tall, slim young woman toward me.

  “Maddy?” I asked, nearly losing my grip on my beer when I spotted my sister.

  “Max! Holy shit. Look at you!” She squealed when I picked her up off her feet. “Put me d
own, you’re going to ruin my dress, you big ape.”

  Laughter rumbling from me, I set her on her feet.

  Then I slanted my eyes at Shy. “You did this?” I pointed at Maddy, whom I’d been alienated from for too many years to count.

  Shrugging one shoulder, Shy smiled at me. “Maybe.”

  “You’re not just bossy. You’re a busybody too, huh?”

  “I don’t think you really mind that much.” She kissed me on the cheek before strolling away.

  “Maddy, Jesus.” I swiped both hands down my face. “I thought you kind of—”

  “Hated you or something?” She snorted. “You didn’t really give me a chance, Max.”

  My head hung low, I whispered, “Think you can forgive me for—”

  “Being an epic douche?”

  “Uhh. I was gonna say for being out of touch.” I tugged on one end of her silky hair. “You’re still a pain in the ass, by the way.”

  “At least some things don’t change.” Dimples pressed into her cheeks when she smiled up at me.

  “Fucking troublemaker.”

  “Love you too, big brother.” She threw her arm around me. “About forgiving you though. Maybe if you give me a job at this—”

  “At my brewery, which isn’t even open yet?”

  Her brown eyes, the same light rum color as mine, danced with laughter. “I could help with that. I have mad skills.”

  “Christ. You’re even more annoying than I remembered.” I grinned.

  “That’s what sisters are for.”

  “No wonder I forgot.”

  “That was mean.” Maddy pouted for all of a second. “So?”

  “What?”

  “The job?”

  “I hire you and create more bad blood between me and our folks?”

  “They miss you.” She squeezed my arm.

  My shoulders stiffened. “Well, they shouldn’t have paid me off to keep me out of their lives then.”

  “You don’t want to talk about it?”

  Understatement of the century.

  Maddy patted me on the cheek. “Fine. We won’t. Besides, we’ve got much more important matters to discuss.”

  I glanced at her. “We do, do we?”

  “Of course.” She swung a punch and hit me on the arm. “You and Shiloh?”

  I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks started heating up.

  “Oh hell yeah, big brother. I can’t believe it. You’re blushing!” She laughed hysterically.

  “Yeah. Yeah. I’m blushing. Whatever.” I leaned against the counter. “I like her.”

  “And she always liked you.” Maddy wiggled her eyebrows—for such a pretty girl she sure could be ridiculous.

  We’d always had an easy relationship, until I fucked everything up. Maybe we could get that back somehow.

  I drew an arm around her shoulders. “I missed you, sis.”

  “Missed you too. So don’t be a stranger anymore.”

  “Try not to.”

  For the next few minutes, I introduced her around. She knew a lot of the downtown Charleston set, but she hadn’t met my crew before.

  “Should’ve known you’d be in a motorcycle club.” Her eyes widened when we approached Boomer, Tail, Cole, and the others.

  “Why’s that?”

  “The speed thing.”

  “Dayum. You picked up another cherry, Handsome?” Tail almost growled at me. “I’m tellin’ Shiloh on you.”

  “Not a cherry. This is my sister, Madison. So hands off, right?” I pulled her up next to me.

  Boomer reached out to shake her hand. “Now we know who got the looks in the family.”

  Yuckity-yuck.

  After enduring endless minutes with the dudes busting my balls out loud to my sister, I left to hunt Shy down. I located her, surrounded by a mob of potential customers, and decided to stand down so she could do her thing.

  Didn’t mean my cock was ready to stand down, though.

  An hour later I’d tracked her from one end of the room to the other.

  The last thing I was thinking about was her recent infection.

  I wanted inside her.

  Immediately.

  Pretty sure it showed in the stark, hungry looks I kept sending her.

  I rolled my sleeves up over my inked forearms, lifting my eyes to hers when I felt her hot stare.

  She braced back on the long counter, her glimmering gaze smoldering along my frame.

  Foreplay.

  Fuck-play.

  One more hour.

  She chatted with everyone. Charmed the shit out of ’em all. The cash register kept chiming. The drinks flowing. Including Retribrewtion beers.

  When the shop reached maximum capacity, I whistled between two fingers to get everyone’s attention. “I’ve got something to add, y’all. You see, what Shy here forgot to mention was that the whole making her money part earlier wasn’t exactly accurate.” I hooked an arm around her shoulders while she blushed deliciously. “She’s donating a large percentage of her profit to MUSC Children’s Hospital. So get your shop on, motherfuckers!”

  “And that’s a mic drop, motherfuckers,” Tail shouted from the back of the room.

  I got a roaring round of applause—or rather Shy did.

  Then I noticed Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart, front and center.

  Oh well. What are you gonna do?

  I sent them a sort of sheepish wave before doing an abrupt about-face so I wouldn’t put my foot in it again with more f-bombs dropped.

  But my speech worked like fucking gangbusters, clothes and accessories started flying even faster off the chrome racks.

  Boomer dropped a bunch of cash on those high heels he’d been eyeing all week just dying to get them on Rayce’s dainty feet. In electric blue to match the streaks in her hair.

  Even Tail picked something up. “You know. It’s always good to have a sorry I gave you the big kiss-off gift when a one-night-stand is about to slash your tires.”

  Yeah. He was a total romantic.

  Nicky Love showed, causing a big stir with new mom Cat Steele, who was as glamorous as ever.

  Then Leelee Stone arrived—Nicky’s friendly competition in the romance writing biz. She was married to his best buddy, Josh Stone, so that shit always made for an interesting dynamic.

  “Oh! I’d love to host a book signing here.” Shy shook both their hands, her eyes dancing, her face glowing, and her dress . . . clinging to all her perfect curves.

  “Bring it,” Leelee answered, tossing back her pale red hair and thumbing her finger at Nicky. “He’s too busy changing diapers to write his next book.”

  “Bullshit. My latest is signed, sealed, and delivered to my editor already, Indie Girl,” he laid down the smack-talk.

  “But I thought you were all about being hybrid.” Batting her eyelashes, Leelee smirked.

  Josh chuckled at his friend’s expense. “Like those shitty Japanese imports.”

  I was distracted from their further baiting banter when I caught sight of a medium-build dude with slicked back hair skulking on the sidewalk outside the open front door.

  Prowling toward Diablo, I parted the people standing in my way, almost body-checking them to get to him as sudden red rage pumped through my veins. A wall of summer heat slammed into my body as soon as I exited the store, but it wasn’t as hot as the viral anger amping me high.

  I grabbed the dude by the back of his shirt, almost raising him off his feet. I pulled my arm back—prepared to smash his face in half—only to find my fist captured in someone else’s hard grip.

  Glaring over my shoulder, I saw Boomer on one side of me, Tail on the other, both of them trying to pull me off cunt-face.

  Cunt-face, whose shouts finally cleared the noise of blood rushing through my head. “Hey! Lay off, man! What the hell?”

  I released him, and he spun around.

  Not Diablo. Just some innocent bystander whose face I’d almost plowed my fist into.

  I shrugged free of Boomer a
nd Tail.

  “Shit, sorry, dude. Mistaken identity.” I backed off, blowing out a few ragged breaths.

  “What the fuck, Handsome?” Boomer pursued me into the shop.

  “Like I said. Case of mistaken identity,” I muttered, pissed off with myself and the whole shit-stinking situation.

  “So you just got an ax to grind with someone or something?” Tail dogged my heels.

  “Or somethin’.”

  Luckily Shy hadn’t witnessed my stark raving Mad Max moment. Neither had her folks.

  I wasn’t willing to let worries about Dia-blow ruin the rest of a really good night . . . but he was still one big fucking poison apple I had to deal with so I could move on with my life, move on with Shy.

  I shook it off. Downed one of my own beers, and tried to gauge customer reaction to my very first labeled brew. But really, I just watched Shy work the room with that winning smile of hers.

  And the dress.

  Until . . .

  She bent over in my direct line of vision with her sexy apple-shaped ass hugged by the sexy tasteful dress and . . .

  I set down an unfinished beer with a slam that almost snapped the table in half. Stalking to her, I trailed my fingers down her back to the place where I knew her dimples resided at the top of her ass.

  With my lips set against her ear, I whispered in a hoarse tone, “Now we’re done.”

  “Yessir.” Her sparkling eyes darkened several shades as her glance coasted all along my body.

  I slung her a loose grin and my own hooded gaze. “Fair warning. It’s gonna be dirty.”

  “I wasn’t aware you did it any other way.” Shy traced her hand up my arm and around my neck.

  “Got that right.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Drive Me Wild

  AS SOON AS I pulled out of the parking spot, Shy hiked up her dress until it was almost pushed all the way to her waist, revealing a glimpse of her skimpy sheer thong. I didn’t know where to look: the rearview mirror, the side view . . . between her legs.

  Oh yeah.

  Then she extended one hand, turning toward me.

  Her fingers teasingly strolled up the inside of my thigh, dragging a low groan from me.

  She felt the sudden leap of my cock as it plumped from half-erect to so-goddamn-rigid it formed a fucking logjam down the inseam of the pants.

 

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