Rush (Carolina Bad Boys, #5)

Jesus Fucking Christ. This shit with my name was already getting tired.

Slinging my shirt around my neck, I grabbed a bottle of water and drained it. Three-pointed it into the recycling bin and started toward the MC for a quick shower when Tail swung his head out the back door.

“Your lady is in the hiz-ouse, Handsome!” He called out.

Shit.

That could only mean one thing.

Shy was back.





Chapter Five


Babe Fever





BRODIE PERKED RIGHT UP, quickly wiping his body down. Cole peered over with interest, too.

“Where?” I asked.

“The front. That is one fucking helluva hot ride she’s got.”

“You better not be talking about her ass,” I grumbled.

“That too.”

I nailed Tail with my dark glare.

Brodie cleared his throat as I stalked past the other man. “He has very brotherly feelings for Shiloh.”

Bastard was rolling his eyes. I knew it.

And dogging my heels. I practically felt him breathing down my neck.

No time for a quick rinse off, not if I wanted to get to Shy before drooling dickheads salivated all over her, apparently.

What the fuck was it with these guys and new cherries?

Strike that. No way in hell was Shy becoming the latest cherry on the block. No fucking way. Rayce and Sadie had been the last two, and they’d been snatched up by Retribution dudes. Not that there was anything wrong with the matches they’d made with Boomer and Kinkaid, respectively.

But a sassy, sweet, super smart South of Broad woman—my childhood pal—was not gonna become jerk-off material for a bunch of roughnecks.

Ripped and ready, I cut through the dim, cool interior of the MC.

Sweaty, half naked, with my shorts riding low, I stomped past the pool tables.

My tats gleaming, my muscles charged, I barged out the front door. Brodie trailed me, grinning like an evil ape when I swung my head back to—yup—sling about my fifth glare of the day c/o Shiloh Lockhart.

I was usually a pretty easygoing guy.

Something about having her hanging around turned me into a snarling animal.

Then I saw her helluva hot ride—a fucking white Hennessey Hellcat with a black racing stripe.

Holy. Christ.

The hot coupe with total street cred was nothing short of drool-inducing for a gearhead like me. A flat-out, top-of-the line, bitchin’ ride.

And then I took stock of Shy, leaning against the abovementioned droolworthy Charger, looking no less jaw dropping herself.

Strike. That.

I meant I could see why Tail trailed out after us, then Cole.

Had nothing to do with my gut deep reaction to seeing a gorgeous woman with a delicious body wearing a long raspberry-colored dress that tightened over her tits and flowed around her legs. Or the hint of sunshine in her smile when she saw me. Or the sleek blonde-brown sun-drenched hair.

Or the luscious lips.

Not At All.

“’Zup, Shy?” I reeled in my tongue, half-shuttered my eyes, took anything but a platonic, good old friends greeting off the table.

Unfortunately I hadn’t counted on her inspection of me.

Her soft silver-colored eyes roamed and roved over me as she licked those—yup—luscious lips. I straightened taller the longer she detailed every inch of my body—most of it bare, most of it hard, a lot of it inked—and the color in her cheeks brightened.

Fuck. She was making me self-conscious. I almost ducked my head in an aw shucks move.

Brodie would get his rocks off about that.

Not gonna happen.

She slowly—in a silky movement—pulled herself away from the Hellcat. She came to me at what had to be an intentionally seductive pace.

Or my breath had roughened for nothing.

Didn’t look like nothing.

Really needed to be.

Hellcat?

I might have to start calling her that.

Could I hold out my fist for a knuckle bump with Shy? Back slap? High five?

Because hugging her at that exact moment might prove lethal to all my just an old friend dictates.

Shy took matters into her own hands, pulling me to her by the back of my neck while I played wooden soldier in her embrace. Something sure was catching wood.

Between my legs.

So wrong.

“Uhm.” Disentangling her arms from me, I created some space and hoped my shorts were baggy enough to hide a growing boner. “What brought you here?”

I heard Tail loud-whisper to Cole. “She wants some of that.”

“Handsome’s makeover’s working out then.”

“Nah. Dude. He’s magic. Could always pull pussy.”

Brodie strode up to the duo and smacked each of them on the back of the head. Not that he wasn’t capable of the same damn loose-lipped bullshit.

Shy—Miss Manners and all—pretended she hadn’t heard a thing. And for that I loved her.

“I was just on my way to a meeting and I got a flat.” She pointed to the rear left tire. “Hoped you could help?”

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