Nice.

Smiling, he turned his head, touched the screen on his phone, and saw it’d been his dad calling.

Shit.

The meeting.

He moved his thumb over the screen and put his phone to his ear, pressing more of his chest into Rebel’s back and resting his biceps on her arm.

“Rush,” his dad greeted.

“Hey, Dad.”

Rebel’s body went solid against him.

He grinned.

“Was leaving you a voicemail.”

Wasted effort and his dad knew it.

Somewhere along the line, his cell number had been fed into a marketing pool. He had more blocked numbers on his phone than miles on his bike. He didn’t even answer if he didn’t have the caller programmed in.

But if someone he knew left a voicemail, he didn’t listen to it. Though he did take that as indication they needed to talk so he’d call back instead of texting.

If it was someone he didn’t know, he either ignored it or deleted it without listening.

“What’s up?” Rush asked.

“Brother meeting. Noon. You want a sandwich, text that shit to Dutch or Chill.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Great. Later.”

“Later, Dad.”

They disconnected and Rush looked at the time on his phone.

There were a lot of good things that came with being a member of the Chaos MC. Brotherhood. Family. Good times, when they weren’t dealing with assholes. And they made a shit-ton off their auto supply stores, more from their garages and more from their custom car and bike biz. The brothers split the profits equal and his monthly take rocked.

But also, hell would freeze over or someone would have to be in mortal danger before his father would call a brother meeting anytime before eleven o’clock in the morning.

It was now nine past.

He hadn’t clocked it, but he guessed he and Rebel passed out around three.

They’d had a full night’s sleep.

Chaos style.

Rebel’s voice came at him.

“Did you really just phone your father while pressing your dick into my ass?”

He started laughing and through it said, “Babe, I’m a dude. It’s morning. You’re naked. You got an amazing ass. It would probably bring on extreme pain not to press my dick into that ass after waking up, even if I was chatting with the Pope.”

She turned to face him, and Rush didn’t move a muscle, so she ended this taking his weight at the front with his leg hooked over her hip and his dick brushing the curls of the pretty trimmed bush between her legs.

If he hit the lights right, it took twenty minutes to get to Ride from his place.

This meant, to be on time, they had half an hour to get ready and head out.

He was totally gonna be late for this meeting.

He tossed the phone on the bed behind her and pulled her deeper into him.

She hadn’t washed her makeup off last night. She didn’t look like a Hole album cover. She just looked thoroughly fucked, a little sleepy and totally beautiful.

“Hey,” he murmured.

Her eyes got lazy but her mouth said, “Don’t be hot when I haven’t brushed my teeth.”

“You don’t have to have fresh breath to blow me.”

She smacked his hip but then smoothed her hand over it and pressed closer.

“Last night was great,” she whispered.

Last night wasn’t great.

It was fucking phenomenal.

He hoped he still had her nail marks in his ass.

If he didn’t, he’d earn more.

On that thought, Rush rolled farther into her, covering her, and aimed his mouth at her neck.

She turned her head, giving him better access, saying, “I’m not sure I can go down on you in this position.”

This was a loss. Rush had learned she excelled at blowjobs.

Then again, one taste and he’d become addicted to her cunt.

He slid his lips to her collarbone and said there, “Then I’ll go down on you.”

She trembled under him.

He grinned against her skin.

“Shit,” she whispered.

He started to lift his head.

“Shit!” she cried.

He totally lifted his head but didn’t even catch a glance at her before she shoved him away and scuttled off the bed.

“Babe?”

“It’s after eleven!” she yelled, rushing around the foot.

“Uh, yeah. And I got a meeting to get to, so we need to get down to busi—”

She yanked on her panties. “I’m late for work!”

Say what?

She bent, grabbing his shirt and turning to him.

“Where’s my phone?” she asked.

“Rebel—”

“Kitchen!” she shouted, shrugging on his shirt and racing out of his room.

He growled, tossing off the sheet and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He snatched up his jeans, dragged them on and buttoned them as he prowled out of his room.

By the time he made it to his kitchen, she was standing in panties, his shirt on but unbuttoned, gaping open a couple of inches to show a path of skin from the tangle of delicate chains at her neck to the lace of her panties, head bent to her phone.

He really wanted to take a moment to appreciate the view, but Rebel freaked because she was late for work, which they had decided, repeatedly, was no longer her precedence.

The second he walked into the room, hair flying, her head came up to look at him.

“I’ve got four calls from my AD and one from Benito,” she said with alarm, turning her attention back to the phone. “I set call for nine o’clock. They’re probably freaked. I need to phone Meryl.”

“Babe—”

“God, shit, I overslept,” she mumbled, moving her thumb over her phone.

He snaked his arm out and pulled it from her fingers.

Her head snapped back. “Rush!”

He sought patience.

“Rebel, you officially quit that job yesterday when a body was dumped in front of your house,” he reminded her.

“Yes, but my AD doesn’t know that.”

Okay.

She’d said yes.

At least that was good.

“AD?” he asked.

“Assistant director,” she answered. “We had three big scenes we were filming today. The first one was intense, and not sexually intense, emotionally intense. My actors are good at orgasms, not so good at emotions. They need me. We usually have a powwow before big scenes. They’re probably ticked.”

“That job is done for you, you get that, right?” he asked just to confirm.

She nodded.

Then he stifled a growl when the nod turned to shaking her head.

“Benito’s a monster, but my cast and crew have no idea about that and they look to me for everything, Rush. God, I was so busy fucking you, I totally did not come up with a plan to handle bailing on them.”

Well, all right.

He reached to her, slid an arm around her waist and pulled her up against his body.

“Can anyone take over for you?” he asked.

She gave him a look that said she thought he was crazy.

He was not crazy.

She was bailing on that job and she had to come to terms with that.

“Can they?” he pushed.

She did that thing where her eyes darted around before they came back to his.

“It’s mine,” she whispered.

Ah.

He was getting it.

She pressed up against him, latching on to his neck at either side.

“It’s porn but it’s mine. The stories aren’t exactly Pride and Prejudice, but they aren’t Dude, Where’s My Virginity? either.”

He wanted to laugh.

But he didn’t.

Because she was proud of them.

They were porn, but she’d put her time and talent in them and she was proud of them.

He didn’t give a shit they were porn.

She cared about what she did. She cared about the people she did it with.

He gave a shit about that because that said a lot about her.

He shouldn’t have been surprised.

He still was.

“Just phone, baby,” he said quietly. “Tell them something urgent came up, you’re shutting down the set for now, you’ll explain more later. We’ll come up with something and when it’s all done, you can tell them how it went down.”