Squeezing against me, she kissed me until the jolting deep arousal stung from my spine to my balls.
Then she perched on the bench while I lathered her up. I covered her in fragrant bubbles so I could run my hands over her sleek, slippery skin before I held her in my arms and fucked her standing up with the water cascading around us.
Afterward, I appointed myself to helping Shy get dressed in the outfit she’d had the forethought to bring. Including a set of sexy lingerie she laid out on my bed, causing another hard-on beneath the towel slung around my hips. I’d never much considered chicks’ undergarments before, other than getting them off as fast as possible, but it turned out putting them on was just as fun.
Then I stripped Shy naked again, and—not surprisingly—I ended up with my mouth on her pussy for a good fifteen minutes.
I figured I better feed the woman—you know, once she remembered how to breathe after her screaming orgasm—so I took her to breakfast. Safety precaution only. Because I was—slightly—less tempted to screw her on top of the table in front of the other diners.
Best fucking morning of my life.
So of course it had to end crappy.
Story of my life.
I drove Shy to her store on King Street, handling her sexy as fuck Hellcat in and out of traffic while the engine purred and Shy threaded our fingers together.
The combo of hot car plus hot woman made a serious dent in my pants.
I wondered if she’d let me do her on her desk.
Pulling into her spot in the small parking lot set to the side of the shop, I killed the engine then quickly hurried around to open her door, help her out.
“So you do remember how to treat a lady.” Her hands linked around my lower back. “Because after last . . . and your dirty talk . . .”
“You complaining?” I dropped my head, ready to feel those sweet lips against mine when some fucking passerby horned in on the moment by lobbing a gob of spit way too fucking close to my feet.
I looked over with a glare and came face to face with none other than goddamn Diablo.
“Maxwell Rush and Shiloh Lockhart. Two gringos with buckets of money between them. If this ain’t perfect, I don’t know what is.” He sneered.
I was gonna punch that snide look right off his face.
As soon as Shy wasn’t around to witness my visceral rage.
“Get inside the store, baby,” I ordered, pressing her forward.
“You know him?” She glared at Dickablo.
“Wouldn’t put it that way.”
D swaggered forward. “’Course he does. We go way back. I remember that first time he was arrested—”
“Wait.” Shy shoved her hand up. “How do you know my name?”
“Goes like this—”
I grabbed Shy’s elbow before he could give all the details of my criminal history, and led her to the door of her store. “Please. Just go inside and lock the door.”
“Max, I don’t like this.” She pleaded with me, her eyes dark and desperate.
I liked it a helluva lot less, but at least she did as I asked.
When I turned back to Diablo—the Hispanic road-rager holding one hundred K over my head—he wasn’t standing alone. Sketch and Jackson and Squizzy had joined the jerkwad blackmailing me. Complete and utter wasters, tweakoids, speed demons from Satan’s League with sudden targets on their heads, because I was set to blow.
“You wanna do this in the daylight, patron?” I asked cuntface number one. “My time’s not up yet.”
“Just a reminder.” Diablo cracked his knuckles.
I was gonna crack his skull wide open on the pavement.
“I got the fucking message.” Pouncing forward, I right-hooked D, catching him completely off guard.
My blow hit him hard, and he spun away with flesh breaking open across his cheek.
His backup asswipes attacked, but I’d had just enough training from Bo Maverick in dirty tactics to take one in a headlock with an extra special twist of my forearm while I punched another dickhole in his sternum. The third bitch-boy? He was on the receiving end of my boot to his stomach.
The three of them breathless, I pushed them toward Diablo who was still crying about his bloody cheek.
Unchecked fury fueled my system. “You come near Shiloh again and I will fucking tie your tiny nuts around your neck and choke you with them.”
“Just get me the money.” Diablo looked at his fingers, bloody from nursing the gash on his face, like he couldn’t believe I’d attacked him.
And I’d fucking do it again. With a gun next time.
“I’ll get you the money when I’m goddamn good and ready.” I bodily packed all four dickbags onto the street where heavy traffic flowed.
Maybe moving cars could do them in.
Vehicular manslaughter.
That would work.
I slowed my heart attack in the making before rapping on Shy’s shop door a couple minutes later.
She peaked outside before letting me in, and she immediately inspected my bruised fists. “You’re hurt?”
“No.”