Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
He punctuated his possessive claim by driving into me, filling me. I gasped, still needing a moment to adjust to his size when he took me. He was too big, stretching me while my body continued to pulse from my climax.
Anchoring himself balls deep, he paused to give me the time I needed. But when I wiggled my hips, he started to move, fast and relentless.
The bed creaked beneath us, mingling with the sound of our bodies colliding, my cries mixing with his groans. He lifted my hips, wrapping my legs around him, and gripped the headboard, pounding into me with a frenzy that stole my breath.
I clung to him, my nails digging into his shoulders, the bite of pain mixing with pleasure.
“That’s right, baby,” he urged. “Squeeze the fuck out of my cock. I need you to let go, Jana. Come for me so I can fill your sweet pussy till I’m spilling out of you.”
His words pushed me over the edge again, and I came, my body trembling, my vision blurring as I fell apart beneath him. He thrust once more, deep and hard, and groaned, his release flooding me, marking me in the most primal way since there was nothing between us. Just like every other time he’d taken me. Something we definitely needed to talk about when it wasn’t the heat of the moment. Which I’d put off, for some inexplicable reason. Even though a pregnancy could ruin my chance to make Kane’s pro team, just as much as the secret I’d unknowingly carried.
12
NITRO
The Pit was alive with race-night electricity.
Engines screamed as crews tested revs, exhaust fumes hanging heavy under the big industrial lights. The concrete floor vibrated faintly with the rumble of tuned motors, rubber smoke clung to the rafters, and the Florida heat wrapped it all in a slick film that no fan could cut. Prep night always turned the garage into a crucible—everybody sweating, swearing, pushing machines and themselves to the redline.
I leaned against a post near bay six, arms crossed, a bottle of water sweating at my boot. My eyes weren’t on the chaos, though. They were locked on her.
Jana crouched by her ride, freckled shoulders gleaming under the fluorescent buzz. Her tank top was plastered to her spine, shorts riding high enough to make saints weep. She was bent over the rear axle, knuckles streaked black with grease, arguing with Gauge about torque specs like she’d been born under a hood. Her hair was pulled up, but strands of fire-red kept falling loose, sticking to her temples, and making her look half-feral and wholly mine.
Except her ride had been tampered with again. I’d caught it when she rolled in—lines half cut, easy to miss if you weren’t looking. Someone wanted her dead or broken, and she brushed it off like a loose lug nut.
The third time in two weeks. Too many to be a coincidence.
I’d been standing here long enough that I knew she felt me. Sure enough, she glanced up from under her lashes, and a wicked little smirk curved her mouth.
“You gonna stop staring?” she called across the bay, her voice sharp enough to cut through the noise. “Or do I need to come over there and give you a reason?”
My mouth tugged crookedly. I didn’t bother raising my voice—she could read my lips fine. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”
Her smirk deepened. She shook her head and went back to work, oblivious to the heat coiling in my gut.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I fished it out, saw Jax’s name flash, and answered with a grunt.
“Need you in your office,” he said without preamble, voice flat and tight. “You’ve got a machine there. Caught the motherfucker. I’ll send files.”
I didn’t waste time with questions. “On my way.”
I pocketed the phone and pushed off the post, stalking across the bay. Jana looked up as I passed, one brow arched in silent question.
“Club business,” I muttered, brushing a hand over her hip in passing. “You won’t need to worry about anyone messing with your ride again.”
Her eyes narrowed, suspicion bright, but she didn’t push. Smart girl. She’d already learned some things were better handled in the dark.
My office at The Pit was small but functional—a steel desk, a battered leather chair, and filing cabinets dented from years of my boots when something pissed me off. The computer hummed low, screen saver casting blue light across the walls. I dropped onto the chair, the old leather creaking, and pulled up my inbox.
Jax had already sent a packet. Photos pinged one after another, grainy stills from the security grid he’d patched together.
The first frame showed Jana’s bay three nights ago. Hood popped, shadows shifting where they didn’t belong. The second caught a figure ducking low, face half lit by a swinging work light. The next made my blood spike—a clear shot of the recruit she’d smoked at the Shadow tryouts. Same cocky bastard I’d caught drooling over her the night I finally made her mine.