Free (Chaos, #6)

I ran it down for her.

“He was in town, escorting my mother to talk to my other brother, who’s bi, about getting him into a ‘program’ back in Indiana. Fortunately, by this time, my brother and his man were on their way back to their woman in Phoenix. Things got ugly. Rush intervened.”

“A program?” she asked.

I shrugged.

Her expression warmed, she turned again to Rush and crooned, “Well, you go, boo. Good on you.” Back to me. “We’ll come over. Tomorrow night. I’ll be making boards so you don’t got anything to worry about. Seven. See you there.”

Apparently, I wasn’t cooking for Rush tomorrow night either.

This was slightly frustrating, but mostly I wanted to know what boards were.

“Elvira,” Rush had returned to growling, “that anniversary? It’s been a week. We got time, we’re spending it together. You and the girls can have Rebel next week.” He paused then amended, “No. The week after.”

“Oh, Rush,” she clucked. “You know it don’t work that way.” Again to me. “See you, girl. Tomorrow. Seven. We’ll also bring the booze.”

Then she pivoted, and on a sashay, she clacked away.

“Well, she didn’t disappoint,” I muttered, grinning.

“She’s a pain in the ass,” Rush muttered back.

I looked to him to see him not grinning but scowling her way. “She called you ‘boo.’”

He switched his scowl to me.

“‘Stud’ is out. I’m totally calling you ‘boo’ from now on,” I declared.

His eyes moved again to the ceiling.

They didn’t stay there very long.

His attention turned to look out the bays.

I looked that way to see three cars driving in, two of them were squad cars, the lead one screamed “Cop!” but without the lights on top.

“What on earth?” I asked.

“They got their search warrants,” Rush murmured.

I shifted my gaze to him. “Search warrants?”

His gaze shifted to me. “Long story.”

“Rebel!”

I whirled to see Tyra hanging out the door to the office.

“It’s great!” she cried. “Come back! I have some ideas.”

“Um, Tyra, it seems the police are here with search warrants,” I informed her.

She didn’t even look out the bays when she replied, “Oh, that won’t take long. Let’s dig in this. We’ll have a preliminary to give to the boys by the end of the day.”

With that, she disappeared.

And suddenly, I had no worries about search warrants.

I twisted back to Rush. “Seems I have work to do.”

“Go, baby,” he muttered.

I smiled at him then started toward the office door.

“Babe!” he called.

I kept walking but looked back.

“Tawny Kitaen,” he reminded me.

I shot him a smile.

Then I skipped up the stairs to the office.





Nine twenty-nine that night . . .

One, two, three, slow glide.

One, two, three, slow glide.

God, he was killing me.

Watching Rush on his knees, fucking me.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, then that chest, those abs waving in a powerhouse glide, I couldn’t help but feel every inch of his thick cock filling me.

And it was seriously doing a number on me.

“Baby,” I panted, beginning to drop my feet to the bed.

“High and wide,” he grunted on a glide.

“Rush,” I whispered.

Thrust, thrust, thrust, glide.

Oh my God.

I kept my knees back, where they were.

“Rush, honey,” I whimpered.

“Beautiful, the way you love to take my cock,” he rumbled, that rough voice I loved so much shivering through me, his gaze hot, moving all over me, hair having fallen in his eye.

Amazing.

Fast, fast, fast, slow.

I moaned, lying opened to him, spread out for him.

All for him.

Punch, punch, punch, roll.

God.

“Anniversary fuck,” he growled.

Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam, bam . . .

I gasped.

Bam . . . float.

God, watching him fuck me like that, his beautiful body moving, his big dick owning me, him slamming against my clit.

“Rush,” I forced out urgently.

The wave and glide, and then he reached in and tweaked my clit and he did it hard.

That did it.

I flew.

Flew.

He caught the backs of my knees when my legs started to drop automatically with my orgasm and he thumped into me, encouraging, “Give it, Rebel. Give it, baby.”

I exhaled.

He let one knee go and pinched my clit.

I gasped and resumed soaring.

“Yeah,” he groaned, fucking me hard. “Give it, baby.”

Then he went, joining me, doing it slamming into me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunted with each thrust. Then I cried out in surprise when I was hauled up, lifted in his arms, and driven down on his cock with one last, “Fuck.”

My forehead drifted to his shoulder.

A couple more thrusts, fainter.

Then I whinnied when I lost his dick and I was again on my back on the bed between his knees, my legs cocked and spread wide.

“Rush,” I whispered.

His eyes moved up from between my legs to my face.

“This mine?” he asked.

Oh God.

This was big.

No.

I knew this was huge.

“Honey.”

He slid his hand down the inside of my thigh and covered my sex lightly.

“This mine, Rebel?”

There was only one answer to that.

“Yes.”

He slid his thumb over my clit, I jerked, then he buried it inside and I sighed.

“This mine?”

“Yes, Rush,” I whispered.

He slid his thumb out, his hand flat going up, over my belly, up, to where he had to feel my heart beating.

“How about this?”

I pressed my hand against my belly.

Oh God.

Yes, this was huge.

Colossal.

Everything.

“Rush.”

“Not too soon. Give it, Rebel.”

I stared right into his eyes, the moonlight from the windows filtering them silver.

He was so beautiful.

So, so beautiful.

“I can’t give something you already own.”

I barely got the words past my lips before I cried out again when I was up, Rush was down, my thigh was thrown, two hands on my hips tugged me down, and then he was eating me.

My head fell back and it was my body waving, rolling on his mouth.

I planted a hand on the window in front of me and rode his face.

Rode him and rode him and rode him . . . desperately.

“Yeah,” he growled against my clit, before eating out my orgasm.

Then he was out from under me, on his knees behind me, and I had both hands to the widow, his fingers tugging at my nipple, two from the other hand between my legs, fucking me.

“Rush,” I gasped.

“How often can you come?” he asked my neck.

My hips jerked as he stroked deep. “I . . . I don’t know.”

He slid his tongue along my ear.

“Let’s see.”

I mewed.

His fingers left me and his cock slid inside.

His hand went to the middle of my back, pressing in, arching me.

“Ride that, Rebel,” he growled.

I gave him what he wanted and got some of my own when I reached behind us and squeezed his balls just as he was coming, the rough, beautiful bark of his climax beating into my shoulder.

Coming down, rooted on his cock, he wrapped a hand around my throat, the pads of his fingers digging in gently.

“This, baby, is free,” he grated in my ear. “And no matter what goes down, that’s always what we got. That’s always gonna be you and me.”

“Always,” I whispered.

His grip eased before his hand moved so his fingers stroked my throat.

“Always.”





Rush

Seven thirty-three, Wednesday evening . . .

“This is not the way it’s done!” Elvira’s voice could be heard from the kitchen.

“Bring us a board!” Hound shouted back from the living room.

“Come and get your own board, Hound!” Lanie was also shouting.

“I can’t go into that kitchen again! I still got a headache from the last time I went in!” Hound bellowed.

Women could be heard laughing.

Rush heard Rebel’s come the loudest.

A cat jumped on Shy, who was sprawled on the floor, Playboy on his chest, and Playboy squealed and reached to claim fur.

The cat jumped away.

“Shouldn’t he be in bed?” High asked.

“Tab and I have learned he’ll pass out when he passes out,” Shy replied.

“And I’ll get to deal with that tomorrow,” Big Petey, Chaos’s Chaplain, and de facto biker nanny, sitting in one of Rebel’s uncomfortable chairs, grumbled.

“Don’t put him down with Travis until he’s out,” Joker said to Shy, referring to Carissa’s son, who was right then snoozing in Rebel’s bed. “Last three times, he woke T up.”

“He doesn’t go down, I’ll go home,” Shy replied. “Someone will drop Tabby.”

“Got her, Shy,” Tack put in.

“Snap, do you boys have enough beer?” Rosalie called.

“I think so, baby,” Snapper called back.

“I could use another beer,” Hop muttered then yelled, “Lanie! Beer!”

“Are you serious?” Lanie yelled back.

Hop grinned at Snapper.

“Playboy out yet, honey?” Tabby shouted.

“No! And if everyone keeps shouting, he won’t get that way!” Shy shouted back.

“This is not the way it’s done!” Elvira shrieked.

Keely wandered in with a platter filled with finger food.

She put it on the space-age coffee table.

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