He used his hand on her hip to pull her closer and he was pretty fucking pleased she didn’t fight it.

“You’re right, babe. This coffee is fuckin’ great.”

Her hand landed on his chest telling him she was close as she was going to get.

But she left it on his chest.

“I know.”

“Now about us connecting,” he muttered into his mug before taking another sip, but his eyes were on her.

“You can’t jump from snuff films to us connecting, stud.”

He dropped the mug, swallowed and grinned.

Then he asked, “What’s with ‘stud?’”

“My original thought was ‘stud muffin,’” she shared. “I shortened it.”

“Obliged.”

“Alternate was ‘dreamboat,’ but at the time I nicknamed you, I felt the need to sound badass.”

He started chuckling and pulled her closer.

She didn’t press into his chest to indicate he stop until her hips hit his.

He’d had a point to make, but at this juncture he was regretting his mention of snuff films.

“I wanna take you out,” he whispered.

“Do bikers date?” she whispered back.

“Let me rephrase. I wanna take you to my place, feed you, then spend however long it takes for us to pass out seeing how many times I can make you come.”

It was delicate, but he felt her shiver.

He took that as a yes to his proposal.

“When are we gonna do that?” he asked.

“I have a scheming bitch who’s been playing me to slap into submission. So sometime after that.”

“Rebel,” he said low.

“Uh . . .” she mumbled as her eyes trailed away.

“Babe,” he called.

She looked back at him. “I’m uncertain I can . . . perform considering recently I’ve watched so much performing. I mean, I start my workday walking through a sea of fluffers fluffing.”

“Are you serious?” he asked.

“It’s kinda gross, Rush,” she whispered.

“Baby,” he murmured, sliding his hand to the small of her back.

“I demand that they be, well . . . lucid. You know, professionals. And it knocked me back when we did our first casting, there were serious folks in this biz who are serious about what they do. And kinda, you know, genuinely get off on it, outside basic biology for the dudes. And they’re super hip that Benito’s pouring money into it to make it more class. Still, I’ve lost track of the amount of fellatio and cunnilingus I’ve not only witnessed . . . but directed.”

He grinned at her and pulled her closer. “You gonna boss me while I got my mouth between your legs?”

Another shiver, this one less delicate, even though she replied, “It could happen.”

“Baby, trust me, it’s not gonna happen.”

She stared into his eyes and asked quietly, “How do you know?”

“I just know.”

“You are full of yourself.”

“Honey, don’t say that kind of thing if you don’t want the appropriate comeback.”

She grinned up at him. “Appropriate says you.”

He grinned back. “Yeah. Appropriate says me.”

“Are we gonna strategize my exit from the porn industry?” she asked.

“It never even crossed my mind I’d say this, but I’m gonna talk to my dad about the woman I intend to see’s exit from the porn industry.” He gave her a squeeze through her amused smile and assured, “He’s a sharp guy, knows all the players in this mess, babe. Between us, we’ll find you a way out.”

She nodded.

Just nodded, no pushback, no denial.

Thank fuck.

Time to move on.

“Have we distanced ourselves enough from talk of snuff films for me to kiss you?” he asked.

“No,” she answered.

He watched her mouth form that word.

“You’re gonna kiss me anyway, aren’t you?” those pink lips breathed.

“Yeah.”

“Rush,” she whispered.

He took her mouth on his name.

She was ready for it, didn’t even make him work, just parted her lips, fuck, so goddamn sweet.

He slid his tongue inside.

And there it was.

Sweeter.

Christ.

Better than he expected, and he expected her to be damn good.

She slid her hand up his chest to his neck and curled it around tight, pressing close.

He wrapped both of his arms around her, pulling her in deep, and took the kiss deeper.

He did that until she made a little noise he liked too much, that noise filling his mouth and he liked that even more, before he broke the kiss.

Her eyes came open slowly.

He liked that too much too.

“Tomorrow night, I’ll pick you up. Six. Dinner at my place. Pack a bag.”

“Full of yourself,” she said softly.

He grinned.

She was in his arms. She knew good coffee. She’d agreed to get out from under Valenzuela. She had a crazy landlady she clearly loved. She dressed great. Her oven was big, but not big enough to roast children. Cats sensed her as their queen. She would be in his bed the next night.

And she had a sweet mouth.

Last, it was worth a repeat, she was in his arms and she felt good there.

He could ignore the meditation.

So there was only one answer to her question.

“Yeah.”

An Adventure

Rush

The next day . . .

“Yo, you wanted to talk?”

Rush turned his head from the engine he was working on to see his dad moving toward him in the bay he was in at the garage at Ride.

So he pulled his body out from under the hood and reached for the rag he had draped on the fender.

Tack stopped at his son and looked down at the car.

“Nice.”

Rush looked down at the Hemi ’Cuda next to him.

The last owner should have all his fingers broken for how he treated that baby.

But Rush was gonna make her all better.

He looked back to his dad.

“Yeah,” he agreed then asked, “You got a few minutes?”

Tack settled in, arms crossed on his chest and answered, “Always.”

That was his old man.

He always had a few minutes. For Rush. Tabitha. Ty-Ty. Rider. Cutter. Any of his brothers. Any of their women. Any of their kids.

Anyone in his heart.

Rush had no idea how the man did it. It was like there were ten of him to give all he gave to the people in his life at the same time running a Club, being the operations manager of a huge business and dealing with all the extraneous shit that was pure shit.

But he still managed to find time to throw back a few with his brothers in the Compound and make it so his woman looked at him like she wanted to rip his clothes off.

Yeah, even after all these years.

It was his dad and stepmom, but Rush couldn’t find it in him to think that was gross seeing as it also was what it was. It was the way of life, if your life was good and you’d made the right choices.

Rush might have his name because he’d always been in a rush to get what he wanted or get where he wanted to go.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t pay attention.

Especially to his dad.

You had to know what you wanted to get it. You had to know it was right before you went for it. You had to pull out all the stops to make it yours. And you had to treat it right when you got it.

Tack had taught him all of that.

And on those thoughts . . .

“I had another conversation with Rebel Stapleton, this time one on one,” he told his father.

Tack’s lips in his ragged goatee quirked before he muttered, “Why does that not surprise me.”

Rush ignored that.

“She’s ready to get out.”

Tack got serious and his tone was the same when he said, “Good.”

“But she doesn’t know how.”

Tack leaned a thigh against the fender of the ’Cuda and drew in a breath before he replied, “I see her concerns. Word is, that line of porn is doin’ well. Valenzuela won’t want to lose her.”

“Yeah.”