MAX HANDSOME RUSH
I’m the black sheep of the Rush family, cut off from the bourbon distillery dynasty. Shrug. They didn’t approve of the high-octane rap sheet of arrests marring my pretty boy, prep school upbringing. Hot girls, hot cars, and time behind bars for illegal street racing—what can I say? Speed is in my blood.
Now I’ve cleaned up. I’m being good. I’ve got my own plans, and they for damn sure don’t include Shiloh Lockhart. Shy. The goddamn classic girl next door. She shows up out of the clear blue, turning all the MC dudes into drooling manwhores. But not me. I’ve got too much to lose to risk falling for a perfect girl like her.
When Shy’s overprotective folks tell her I’m bad news, they’re right. But come to find out she’s already endured more than her fair share of shit-gone-bad in her life, and she’s convinced I won’t make it any worse. Shy couldn’t be more wrong.
I haven’t seen Max since he got kicked out of the Rush family home years ago. Now I’m determined to get back in touch with the boy I used to crush on growing up. They call him Handsome at the motorcycle club he belongs to, and I can see why. The long dark brown hair. The smoldering whiskey-colored eyes. The sculpted face and big muscled body.
Too bad he’s intent on treating me like a kid sister. Hmm. We’ll see how long that lasts, because to squash this schoolgirl crush I need to be with Max just once . . . turns out one taste of Rush isn’t enough.
My situation is life threatening, but what he’s hiding is even more dangerous. Too late. Rush is already in my blood.
(Can be read as a standalone, however it is recommended to read the entire series)
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“You can back off now. I’m leaving, Max, just like you wanted.” The stinging tone of Shy’s words was almost as effective as a slap.
I didn’t back off.
Instead I frowned at her, basking in the heat pouring off her body, tempted again by her succulent red pout. “What the hell is this all about exactly? You’re mad at me because what?”
I played stupid, knowing as surely as she did the atomic chemistry between us had been building for weeks.
“You’re overbearing. You act like you need to protect me. You won’t give me the time of day except to treat me like I mean nothing but a sister to you.” Her eyes flashed up in anger, dangerously dark like smoldering embers and I had to wonder if she’d be this fierce, this passionate, if I gave in and kissed her into oblivion. “I can’t believe how goddamn blind you are! I want you!”
Of course some smartass fuck turned off the music at that exact moment. And quickly cranked it right back up.
“No way that’s gonna happen, Shy.” I reeled back.
She followed, on her tiptoes, her nose almost pressed to my chin. “I got it, you asshole. Okay? And now I’m out of here.”
She strutted around me, her chin thrust forward, her shoulders pulled back, and her tits leading the way.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going after dropping that bomb?”
“To find someone man enough to fuck me,” she shouted.
I grabbed her arm, halting her. “Like hell you will.”
She struggled before spinning back to me. “It may have escaped your attention, Maxwell, but I’m an adult. And you have no say over what I do or who I do.”
Dozens of dudes’ hands shot into the air.
“I'm not about to let that happen.”
She flipped her hair, challenging, “And why not?”
“Because I'd probably have to murder anyone who touched you like that,” I said through gritted teeth.
Her eyes widened, and I couldn’t believe I’d said that out loud.
Now I am fucked.
Might as well screw everything up all the way, then.
I released my hold on her arm only to slide my palm up to the soft skin of one bared shoulder.
She licked her juicy lips.
I watched the action, letting the attraction I’d been denying all along pull us closer until her breasts cushioned against my chest, and I felt the distinct crests of her nipples.
I grinned a little, lowering my voice. “You can call me Handsome, you know.”
“What if I don’t think you are?” Her tone was teasing and breathy, her tits rising and falling rapidly.
I grazed the side of my cheek against hers and my voice came out rough beside her ear. “I think you do.”
Her hands skimmed up my back to my shoulders, and I grasped the nape of her neck, closing the final distance between us.
“Is this what you want, Shy?”
Rie is the badass, sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a breakthrough trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning with In His Command. Her latest endeavors include the Carolina Bad Boys, a fun, hot, and southern-sexy series.
A Yankee transplant who has traveled the world, Rie started out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her erotic poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen for paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art school to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in between, Rie has come home to her calling. Her work has been called edgy, daring, and some of the sexiest smut around.
You can connect with Rie via the social media hangouts listed on her website https://www.riewarren.com. She is represented by Saritza Hernandez, Corvisiero Literary Agency. http://www.corvisieroagency.