Rush (Carolina Bad Boys, #5)

“Yeah.” Brodie seemed to make it his specific duty to ride my ass. “He’s all growed up, Shiloh.”


I flipped the fucker off with one hand, elbowing him in the ribs with my other arm.

Shy laughed, spinning to disappear into the crowd.

“Hang on, woman. Explain yourself. What’d you mean you’re proud of me?” I pulled her back to me. “Because I exchanged pleasantries with my parents, or I didn’t beat Tail’s head in for hitting on Maddy?”

“Well, both. Of course,” she said, slipping up to kiss my cheek before she started swishing away again.

“Hey”—I towed her to me again—“how come you call me Handsome sometimes and other times Max?”

“Depends on what kind of fucking I’m in the mood for later.”

She escaped from me just like that.

Gulp.

Instant hard-on.

I needed a longer damn T-shirt.

Sexy wench.

Aside from Brodie’s congrats, fucker impromptu words earlier in the day, there were no speeches. It was all music, beer, mingling, hanging out.

I did, however—at Shy’s prompting—give my blessing, standing in front of everyone to shout out, “Drink like you ride!”

And riding . . . that was exactly what I had planned for my woman.

Walking out with Shy beside me—the party still running full throttle—I sat on my first class ’59 Harley Panhead and helped my first class lady on behind me.

Everyone followed us out of Retribrewtion.

I revved the thunderous engine, pushed my shades over my eyes, and pulled Shy’s arms around my waist.

We roared from the parking lot where folks sprayed foaming beer from bottles and friends let out wolf whistles and family watched our victory ride.

I was tempted to pull over halfway to the condo so I could lay into Shy on my bike, but I had more class than that.

Sort of.

Maddy was on lockdown duty. I just hoped she didn’t get locked in with Tail. Because if that happened I’d have to have a talk with him in the morning . . . with my fist in his face.

I didn’t spend much more time worrying about shit other than how fast I could get Shy on a flat surface because she had wandering hands, and my hands were on the throttles, and my dick was an iron pole in my jeans, throbbing every damn time her fingertips glanced across my groin.

We reached the condo.

We left a trail of clothes all the way to the bedroom.

I think I might’ve dropped Shy’s panties in the elevator.

My bad.

I’d collect them as soon as I was done fucking her through the bed.

Wet kisses.

Seeking hands.

Bare bodies colliding together . . .

She fitted a condom on my cock, pressing me to my back. Her tits swung in my face, and I slavered over them as she slid down my upright, aching pole.

With a cushion positioned for her knee, Shy rode me like a shameless hussy.

My neck corded.

My hips punched up.

I wrapped my hands around the headboard, cranking it between my knuckles.

So turned on as she grinded on me, getting her own fuck-joy from my drill-hard cock. Bouncing so her clit rubbed against me. Bouncing until I had to cup her tits again and pull at her nipples.

My toes curled.

My eyes drifted closed under heavy lids.

My neck craned back.

“Uhhhn.” I groaned, her tight wet heat enveloping me over and over.

Sexy Shy slid down on top of me, her breasts crushed to my chest. “You like that?” Whispering with a tongue-lick to my ear, she rotated her hips that hot-wet-swirled my cock deep inside.

“Yeah.” I gripped her hair, bringing her lips to my mouth. I bit and licked and kissed at her. “Love it.”

I bucked up, my hands landing on her ass with a loud smack.

She shot up, undulating like a fuck-sorceress, her bright-tipped tits tilted to the ceiling.

My fingers flitted through her damp soft curls, and I found her clit. She wound higher. Clenched tighter. The slick glove of her hot flesh almost twisting the come out of me as she orgasmed.

Braced against my chest, Shy licked my ear, her breath as sweet and hot as her steamy cunt. “Mmm. Help me turn around.”

Oh fuck. Reverse cowgirl.

Breaths beat in and out of my chest. I widened my thighs. I rotated her on my cock like a corkscrew.

So wet. Incredible sight.

She kept clasping my cock from tip to root, up and down, in the pussy of the century.

Sliding back and forth on my thighs, Shy docked my dick, and I saw it all—her ass spread, her pussy opening, her body lushly accepting me.

“Fuck. Fuccckk!” The gritty growl barreled from my throat.

I was barely hanging on.

Shy hit a deeper angle, swinging her hips over me.

She had some kind of sexual sixth sense—slowing to languid cock stirring circles whenever I got close . . .

Half-turning, she glanced back, all teasing, tasty, sultry. “Help me out?”

I grunted. Nodded. Curled up behind her.

Words?

They wouldn’t come to me anymore.

I pulled Shy down to my chest and laid her fully on top of me. Her back on my front and my cock rampant and rigid inside her insanely tight cunt. My hands cupped her tits, my fingers brushed over her nipples.

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