“It was good, baby,” he murmured. “We wanted the break from her. Tab needed it. Dad paid for it. He didn’t mind.”
“But . . . your mother sold custody of her children to their father.”
“I don’t remember how it went,” he muttered. “But I think Dad ended up not havin’ to pay seein’ as Mom’s old man got dead . . . or something.”
Apparently, there were so many of them, he couldn’t even fully remember one of his Circles of Hell.
“Oh my God.”
“Before that went down, Tyra beat the snot out of her in the forecourt.”
I stared down at him and caught his grin in the moonlight when I did.
“Wearing her heels and one of her tight skirts,” he added.
A mental image immediately formed, and I didn’t even know what his mother looked like.
Still, the image was priceless.
“No shit?” I breathed.
“I wasn’t there, but think the story goes that it took two, three brothers to pull her off.”
I smiled. “Go, Tyra.”
He fell silent.
It didn’t feel good.
My smile died.
“Rush?” I called, even though I was mostly laying on him, my hips to the side, my chest to his.
“I hope she calls me.”
I rubbed his stubbled jaw with the backs of my fingers. “I hope she does too.”
“You know, it’s been a wild ride, especially the last decade, but before that too. Big ups. Serious downs. Tyra getting stuck not counting, considering that’s in a league all its own, the worst for me was givin’ up on my mom ever bein’ a real mom.”
I hated that for him.
Really hated it.
If there was ever a son who deserved a fantastic mother, it was Rush.
Well, and Diesel.
But also totally Rush.
“Yeah,” I whispered, ducking in to touch my lips to his throat.
He kept my head there by turning it and tucking it under his chin, my cheek to his collarbone.
“I was seventeen when I met Ty-Ty. Wish she’d have come earlier,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” I whispered again, shoving my arm under him to hold him to me.
“At least we got her.”
“She loves you as if you were her own, you know,” I told him.
He said nothing for a second.
Then he said, “Yeah.”
I lifted my head to look down at him. “You’re a good son, honey, with all that, still trying to look out for your mom.”
He slid his knuckles across my cheekbone, watching them go.
Then his eyes came to mine and he repeated without much believability, “Yeah.”
“You can only do what you can do. You reached out. Now it’s her choice.”
“Swallow my own medicine?” he asked.
“Sorry,” I said softly.
“But you’re right.”
I didn’t reply.
“Still, call her again, she doesn’t get in touch, go up to Boulder and haul her ass down here kicking and screaming if I have to.”
And he’d totally do that. I knew it.
“A good son,” I told him. “Even if being that requires kidnapping.”
He smiled up at me and it appeared genuine.
And he again said, “Yeah.”
Rush held my hair back in both hands, and even if he only had moonlight, I suspected he was watching my mouth take his cock as he fucked my face.
He was standing at the side of the bed.
I was on all fours on it.
He pulled out, growled, “Pussy,” and slid his hands out of my hair, along my jaw before they fell away.
I switched positions, knees at the edge of the bed, hands in it.
While I was doing this, I heard foil tear.
A couple seconds later, he was inside.
God, I loved having his big dick inside.
My head went back.
He reached out and caught my hair in a gentle grip.
Totally never cutting my hair.
Ever.
He fucked me and he kept fucking me, and then more, and I took it and I loved it until he jerked back on my hair, curled over me, went at my clit and I came for him.
And I loved that more.
He let my hair go, pressed between my shoulders until I went down off my hands and he kept at me until he came for me.
I loved that too.
He glided inside, running his fingertips over my ass until he pulled out.
He pressed me to my side, righted me in bed, tossed the sheet over me and went to the bathroom.
He came back, got under the sheet with me, curled into my back and rounded me with an arm, pulling me close.