Every Rush Has Its Thorn

 

 

 

MADISON ROSE RUSH.

Fuck yeah, I knew Maddy’s full name. I could be sneaky when I wanted to be. Besides, Coletrane was a tech-savvy motherfucker, and I got him to do some research for me. Off-book so Handsome wouldn’t find out I’d been thinking about his sister on repeat.

MADDY, MADDY, MADDY.

Fucking figured. The first woman I actually had an acute hard-on for—maybe more than the usual bone-hard erection that went with every night surrounded by honeys at the Retribution MC compound—just had to be Madison Rush.

Heiress to the generations-old Rush Distillery empire.

Downtown Charleston Princess.

Second in charge of the newly minted Retribrewtion venture.

Handsome was probably gonna kill me.

I may die from priapism first.

Yeah, y’all can act surprised. I know the meanings of the big words.

Fuck’s sake.

Boner confirmed when I ambled up to Maddy at the brewery’s grand opening that fine October day. I’d had the woman in my sights the moment she stepped into the giant space dominated by massive vats, a huge open bar touting Handsome’s original brewskies, and what looked like possibly the entire population of Charleston, South Carolina.

Gorgeous Maddy Rush. She had a beautiful smile, long brown hair, a fully fit figure, and rum-colored eyes.

Taking a sip from the bottle cradled in my hand, I tried not to leer too much at the tight fit of her jeans stretched across her ass or the Retribrewtion T-shirt stretched across her tits.

“Good showing today, huh?” I drawled out the words, peering into her sparkly eyes.

“We Rushes know how to throw a party,” Maddy replied with a humble smile.

“Don’t think Handsome could plan his way out of a paper bag, so I reckon you held the reins on this shindig.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me by putting down my big brother?” She hit me with a wicked look.

“Yeah. Maybe not the best approach.” Nervously rubbing a hand across my jaw, I chuckled. “Was wondering though, what are you doing later?”

Maddy’s gaze roved over all two-hundred twenty-five pounds and six-foot-three inches of me. She didn’t miss an inch of muscle, tats, or long black hair.

Her lips lifted at the corners and she pressed onto her tiptoes, leaning against me to whisper, “Not you.”

I barked out a laugh, which of course drew all the attention of every MC asshole in the house. I glanced aside to see Tucker, Brodie, Boomer, Cole, Kinkaid, Hunter, Bo . . . and a none-too-happy-looking Handsome staring. No doubt they were spinning words about me and waiting for me to bomb out. Handsome would hope I’d flame out.

Like that ever happened to me before.

Turning back to Maddy, I acted casual when I was anything but. “Wasn’t trying to score with you.” Lie. “I just thought I could buy you dinner or something.”

“Nice try, Tail.” The dimples in her cheeks deepened as she continued to cut me down to size. “I’m not going out with you, or to bed with you, tonight or any other night. And let me guess . . . you’re called Tail because you get a lot of it?”

I frowned hard, crossing my arms over my chest.

She patted me on the cheek like I was a friggin’ puppy dog or something. “I’m not that easy, sugar.”

Then she swung away and sashayed off without so much as a backward glance.

Mmm hmmm. It was true. Every rose had a thorn, and Miss Madison Rose Rush turned out to be pricklier than most.

Thing was, she was the prettiest babe I’d ever seen.

I’d gone stag specifically because I’d known she’d be here. Only to get shot down within a few sentences. Hell, I didn’t know how to charm a chick. Never really needed to before, not when women fell all over themselves to get into my bed.

I’d been called a fucking ton of things from pussy hound to manwhore . . . and the girls I screwed—as Handsome had so aptly called out—bed bunnies.

Shit, I almost wanted to call it a day . . . but hey, free beer. So I stayed, watching Maddy from afar, listening to my dudes who rolled up as soon as she drop-kicked my ego into next week.

“Looks like no schtupping for you tonight.” Frankie took the first bash, the Italian tailor/Mafia scion who’d done the MC more than one slightly illegal favor.

“Hey now. That’s my sister you’re talking about.” Handsome scowled while his beauty Shiloh merely rolled her eyes.

“Like you’ll ever let me forget that,” I grumbled.

“Besides, just because Maddy turned him down doesn’t mean he ain’t getting some later.” Coletrane went all har-har-har.

“Yeah.” Kinkaid chuckled. “This was just a temporary Tail-fail. Judging by the traffic in and out of his room at the clubhouse, he just needs to put out the Vacancy sign and the slot’ll be filled.”

“Not the only slot that’ll be filled.” Loudmouth Brodie jabbed me with another slam to my reputation.

I wanted to say fuck-right-off to all the yahoos, but I couldn’t exactly let fly since the Rush ’rents were present. I was trying to make some sort of impression—and not a bad one for a change.

“Ain’t my fault Maddy’s super fuego,” I said under my breath.

Handsome redoubled his glare.

I merely shrugged and took a sip of beer. “Yup. She musta gotten the brains as well as the beauty in the family.”

Luckily Handsome was called away by some distributor or other at that moment, because I reckoned the dude really wanted to take a crack at me.

Shiloh—sweet, sweet Shy—whispered at me with a wink, “Behave now. Remember, I’ve known Maddy for as long as I’ve known Max.”

“Haven’t I always been a perfect gentleman with you?”

“That was because you knew I had my heart set on Max.”

“Still don’t know what you see in Handsome.” But I grinned, because if any two people deserved to be happy in love it was Handsome Maxwell Rush and Shiloh Lockhart.

Those two . . . well, the opening of Handsome’s brewery was finally a bright moment in their lives. What with Shy’s cancer, the fucking kidnapping and assault by Diablo and his Satan’s League gang . . .

Now they were engaged.

As were Brodie and Ashe.

And Coletrane and Sinclair.

Jesus. The neighborhood was really going upscale, all the dudes hooking up with fine, fine women. And babies. Frigging babies all over the place. Used to be just Josh Stone and his grease monkey crew. Now Nick Love and Cat Steele with little Daniel. Brodie and Ashe with baby Roxanna and big sis Cara. Hunter and JB expecting their first together, his second child.

Shoot, Boomer and Racy Rayce were probably gonna start popping out rug rats soon, too.

I just drank it all in, along with more beer. Yep, Handsome definitely had a winner here.

I didn’t even complain when Brodie pulled Roxy out of the baby papoose-thing he was wearing to hand her over to me so he could go dance with Ashe to the live band. As far as babies went, Roxy was a cutie-pie. And all us MC dudes were honorary uncles.

I clutched the little biker princess in one arm, laughing when she gurgled at me. I had her Harley burp rag over one shoulder, ready to catch any spit-up she might project at any moment. I knew a thing or two about taking care of people, just not one so tiny—yet.

When I swung Roxy up into the air a few times—Brodie giving me the evil eye like I was gonna drop his precious girl—she let out a baby belly laugh that made me chuckle.

That was when I saw Maddy watching me.

Hell yeah.

Maybe I wouldn’t score with Maddy, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t score points with her.

Points I aimed to rack up higher later in the evening. Handsome and Shy had cleared out early, most likely to go at it like rabbits somewhere. Most of the partiers had left, all the business-y type folks, too.

“Hey, Tail.” Hunter called out, JB curled against his side. “You heading over to Retribution with us?”

“Nah. Think I’m gonna stay and help.”

Brodie strutted by. “You sure that’s such a good idea? You know, what with Handsome wanting to murder you and all?”

“Not sure at all.” I swiped a hand across my chin. “Probably the worst idea I ever had.”

Brodie hit me with a knuckle bump. “Good luck with that then.”

And then it was just Maddy and me, the huge double doors of the brewery still rolled open, admitting the night sounds and scents of the Wando docks area on the river.

“I’m fine, Tail, really.” Maddy frowned at me, voice firm, hand propped on one hip. “And I meant what I said earlier.”

I saluted her with two fingers and straightened up to my full height. “I’m not puttin’ the moves on you, sweetness. I read you loud and clear. Now, what can I do?”

She studied me a few more seconds before her lashes fluttered down and she let out a little sigh, stretching her back. “Well, I need to break down the tables and—”

“Okay.” I strolled over to her and took her by the shoulders. “Make you a deal. You go sit down over there and lemme handle it.” Smirking, I added, “You can even boss me around if you want.”

Boss me around, she did. And it was hot being with a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. I didn’t even hit her with any innuendo, just kept my head down and did the grunt work as ordered.

Muscles bulging, I muled the tables from the main floor back into the storage area. Caught pretty Miss Maddy staring on more than one occasion, too. I gave her an extra flex for that, lifting a couple crates of beer to store in the industrial-sized fridge.

“You have a lot of tats,” she mentioned.

Mmm. Did I detect a little breathy interest in Maddy’s voice?

“Kind of a biker rite of passage.” I dusted off hands the size of shovels and indicated the full sleeves decorated in vibrant designs, including my dad’s RIP under the Retribution colors. “There’s more.” With a grin, I started lifting the bottom of my T-shirt. “Wanna see the rest?”

Maddy blushed when my cut abs came into view, and she sounded even more breathless. “I don’t think so. Anyway, I thought Kinkaid was the stripper of the crew.”

“I wasn’t offering to strip.” But I lifted the bottom of the shirt anyway to wipe a bead of sweat rolling down my temple.

Could’ve sworn I heard a low moan coming from Maddy’s direction.

I could easily grow addicted to that sound.

Showing no reaction—hoping she didn’t notice the hard roll of flesh filling out the crotch of my old jeans—I went back to work.

Closing up Retribrewtion was so different from closing up Retribution with an armful of honeys hangin’ off me. Good honest work. Taking care of shit so Maddy could chill out for a few moments. I didn’t mind getting sweaty for her. Not one bit. Hoped to get sweaty with her at some point, too.

Not tonight, though.

By the time I clicked off the far lights, Maddy’s eyelids had started drooping down.

I squatted in front of her, gently touching her cheek just for a feel of her soft skin.

She startled a little and wrinkled her nose. Those intensely beautiful eyes found mine, sleepy and unguarded.

“Tired, huh?” I asked.

“It was a long day.” She stretched her arms up, nearly popping her tits right into my face.

I stood up instead of latching on. “You fucking rocked it out, by the way.”

“You have a very interesting vocabulary.” She took the hand I offered, then let me help her into her jacket.

“Yeah. Not exactly South of Broad material.” I looked down at the leather cut on my shoulders, the chunky rings on my fingers.

“No. Definitely not.” She giggled.

“What are you laughing at?” I squinted at the woman.

“Just trying to picture you wearing a seersucker suit.”

I shuddered, and she laughed, knocking against my shoulder. “Don’t worry. You suit all . . . this.”

She cast her gaze over me again.

“Good to know.” More than good to know. Fucking superlative. I held out my arm. “Shall we?”

After guiding Maddy outside, I waited while she locked the doors, pocketed the keys.

“Can I give you a ride home?” I motioned to my bike, an old-school Harley Shovelhead with sixteen-inch ape hangers. Pretty much as badass as me.

“I’ve got my own ride.” She stopped beside a sweet little Lincoln MK coupe—classy and sexy, just like her. “But thank you for helping. That didn’t suck.”

She looked faintly surprised I hadn’t put the moves on her, and it was on the tip of my tongue to roll that suck comment into something completely suggestive. But I didn’t really wanna be the pussy hound with her.

Opening the car door for her, I waited while she slid her legs in and started the expensive engine.

“That’s some hot rod.” I let out a low whistle.

“Sometimes I like to go really, really fast.” Her plump lips curved into a smile.

My cock thumped in my jeans. I hung over the open door instead of stabbing her in the face with my groin. “So I’ll see you around?”

“I’ll see you around, Tail.”

After I shut the door, she rolled down her window. “Thanks for the help. Goodnight.”

I knocked on the roof a couple times and nodded. “G’night, Maddy.”

She roared off as soon as I stepped back. And there in the empty parking lot of Retribrewtion, I lit a smoke, watching Maddy Rush drive away, my hand raised in the air.

Well, shit.

Looked like I was hooked.

The cherry babes had gotten stale.

I stood on the spot, finishing my cig, chuckling to myself.

I was fucked without even getting fucked.

****

A little while later, I pulled into the driveway of my house, throttling down. I parked the black beast of a bike beside my pickup, hit the kickstand, took off my brain bucket.

Tonight there was a little snap in the air, and it felt good. Fresh.

I took the steps to the brick ranch, swiped my boots on the mud rug, unlocked the front door. The house I’d grown up in had changed a lot. I’d made a million improvements over the years, thinking maybe someday I’d flip it, but I couldn’t really do that now. Not yet.

Lights blazed in the entryway, shining on the refinished floors.

Shucking off my leather, I called out, “Hey, honey! I’m home.”