Rush (Carolina Bad Boys, #5)(10)

If he started betting about the possibility of Shy and me I was gonna kick his motherfucking ass to Kingdom-Motherfucking-Come-and-Don’t-Come-Back.

Changing a tire took about five minutes when I was in a hurry.

I managed to draw it out.

I popped off the lug nuts with my wrench and laid the flat on the floor.

Brodie rolled me the new tire, and I lifted it into place.

Shy—standing behind me with a full view of my Retribution MC backpiece—made a low noise in her throat.

I never worked without a shirt—grease got everywhere—but Shy’s presence and whatever juju magic she suddenly held over me got inside my head, inside my body, a hard body I wanted her to see.

“So this is like child’s play to you?” She stepped beside me.

With the tire in place, I swabbed a clean cloth across my forehead. “Pretty much.”

“Did I interrupt your work?”

“No. Was just lifting weights out back.”

Turning back to the other nuts I had to spin in place to secure her tire, I was totally aware of Shy checking me out when she said softly, “It shows.”

Every single part of me flexed, clenched, threatened to overload with the dominating fuck yes sex I craved.

Unleash everything building inside me all over Shy.

Somewhere in the background I cottoned onto Brodie threatening Tail with bodily harm if he didn’t clear out of the area before slipping out the side door, too.

The only thing I registered after that was Shy, her sex-on-wheels car, and the two of us. Alone.

Getting back to work, I ignored everything going on in my groin.

Tried to.

She didn’t back off or look away.

Tightening the last nuts, I pressed the button to lower the Hennessey Hellcat.

The hydraulics weren’t the only hiss sounded off in the garage. I sucked in a breath between my teeth when Shy slipped a hand up my arm.

Maybe she just liked the tats, but her fingers continually strayed to my forearms, and I noticed.

I shifted away. “Should check the alignment.”

“Want me to ride along?”

I definitely wanted her to ride something. Goddamn that long berry-colored sundress. It had me wondering if her nipples were the same deep color.

Punching forward, I cranked into the driver’s seat. “I got it.”

The rip-roaring thrill of the Hellcat almost took my mind off this forbidden fruit, this unwanted thing, this un-looked-for attraction pinging desperate need to my gut.

I took the Charger around the block, feeling that same high that always made my spine tingle when I had a tricked-out car in my control.

The thing was a sheer beast.

It impressed me Shy could handle it.

Made me wonder how well she’d handle me.

Revving the motor down, I turned back into the compound, squealing to a stop beside the garage.

Shy was surrounded by men.

Dick-tits beat feet as soon as I exited the Hellcat.

Good idea.

Wiping the scowl off my face, I strutted toward Shy. “You’re good.”

I dropped the keys in her hand.

She wound her arms around my neck and pressed her lips against my cheek. “Thank you, Max.”

Disengaging from her infectious heat and curvy body, I ran a hand through my hair. “Why’d you come here?”

“Needed a quick fix.” She leaned against the building, butting her hip against mine. “The real question is why are you here, Max?”

“You trying to rehabilitate me?”

I folded my arms across my chest, fully aware I still wore little more than workout shorts, sneakers, and a bunch of sweaty muscles.

Her eyes skipped down my torso, landing in an area that was strictly Off Limits.

Too bad my cock hadn’t gotten the memo.

“This is home, Shy. You don’t understand.”

She smiled sadly and hooked her fingers around my forearms. “You could try me.”

“You know what went down.”

“And that was crap. You’re so smart!” Her fingers tugged harder. “You got your psychology degree!”

“Who told you that?”

“Maddy.”

“My sister? She knows?”

“It’s not like you totally disappeared. You just left their lives.” Shy smoothed a hand up to my shoulder.

Shrugging free, I turned my back. “It didn’t go down like you think.”

I gave a dry laugh, a bark of sound more than anything else. “Better with my hands than my mind anyway. Better with them than with people. What I really want to do is . . .”

“What?” Shy snuck behind me, those hands once again on my bare flesh, flesh that stung, tickled, shivered, wanted.

Drawing a deep ragged breath, I pulled away. I spun around to face her down. “Nothing.”

“C’mon, Handsome.”

“You shouldn’t call me that.”

“Well, it’s true.” She stomped her foot.

“Get spunky lately or somethin’?” I bit into my slowly forming grin.

“Yes. Damn it!”

I raised my hands as she advanced.

“Okay. All right. God, girl, you sure got a lot of grit.”

She stood in front of me with her hands on the swell of her hips. “I earned it.”