Page 7 of Nitro (Redline Kings MC #3)

NITRO

T he Pit was humming with its usual chaos—tools clanking, compressors groaning, the smell of burnt rubber and engine oil hanging thick in the air.

Florida heat pressed down like a punishment, sweat prickling under my shirt even with the big fans chopping the air overhead.

Prep night before a run always made the garage feel tighter than it was, the energy thick with nerves and adrenaline.

I cut through the bays, nodding at Gauge as he barked orders to a couple of prospects stacking tires. My mood was steady—until I saw her.

She was near bay three, standing by one of the prep benches with a bottle of water dangling from her fingers.

Her normally loose white T-shirt was plastered to her skin in the heat, and her jean shorts pushed at the edges of my patience.

They left too much freckled skin bare—long legs, a slice of thigh showing when she shifted her weight.

The light from the overhead fluorescents turned the sweat on her collarbones into something obscene, each drop sliding lower than my control wanted to allow.

Her red hair was pulled up in a messy knot, strands escaping like flame that refused to be contained.

And she wasn’t alone.

One of the rookies she’d smoked last weekend—with big shoulders, a cheap grin, and the kind of swagger that came from confusing horsepower with backbone—stood too close, leaning on the bench like he thought his shadow belonged on her.

He said something I couldn’t catch over the buzz of a drill, and she laughed.

Not like the one she’d given me when I’d muttered something filthy just to see her blush, but it was still sound enough to light a fuse, dragging through me like a live wire.

Jealousy wasn’t an emotion I entertained.

The emotion was pointless, wasteful…a distraction.

You either claimed something or you walked away.

But right then, it hit like a shot of nitrous in my veins, a hard jolt that blurred the edges of my vision.

My hands curled into fists, and every part of me screamed to rip that cocky bastard away from her before he mistook her patience for an invitation.

She shifted her weight and tilted her chin in a way I’d seen before. One that said he shouldn’t mistake her politeness for interest, and I knew she was about to shut him down with a line dry enough to sand a door.

But he was clearly too stupid to read the room. His gaze flicked down to her chest. He wasn’t subtle, wasn’t even trying.

Red . Just red. The kind that comes before the blast.

My boots carried me across the floor before the thought finished forming.

I didn’t slow, didn’t speak, just reached for her wrist mid-sentence and hauled her toward bay four.

Her water bottle hit the bench with a plastic crack, the rookie saying something after us, but I didn’t hear it over the pounding in my ears.

“Hey—” She twisted in my grip.

I ignored her protest, pushed her through the open bay door, and slapped the control. The big steel shutter rattled down hard, cutting us off from the rest of the shop. The grind of the motor and the final slam echoed in the quiet.

She spun on me, her cheeks flushed, and her chest rising and falling fast. “What the hell is your problem?”

My problem was every set of eyes in that garage crawling over her skin like they had any right to it.

My problem was that she’d walked out there in shorts tiny enough to make saints lose their religion and a top that clung to every perfect line.

I couldn’t stand the thought of a single one of those bastards imagining what I already knew—she was fire wrapped in cute freckles and attitude.

And none of them were worthy enough to breathe her air.

“Well?” she demanded again, fire snapping in her green eyes, freckles standing out sharper with the flush crawling over her chest and throat.

“My problem?” I stalked closer, eating the space until her back brushed the cool cinderblock wall. “You out there letting some rookie hit on you. I should spank you raw for making me watch another man drool over you.”

She barked a sharp laugh, her disbelief clear. “Drool? He asked how I tuned my gearing on the straight. That’s it. You dragged me in here like a caveman because I answered a damn question?”

“He didn’t give a shit about your answer,” I growled, bracing one palm against the wall beside her head.

My chest almost brushed hers, and the heat pouring off her made it harder to remember words.

“He wasn’t looking at your gearing. He was looking at your thighs, Jana.

At your tits through that thin little shirt.

Every man out there was picturing his hands on you.

Picturing grinding his cock against that hot little pussy. ”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t back down. She lifted her chin stubbornly, red hair coming loose from the knot and slipping over her shoulder. “You think everyone is staring at me like that? News flash, Torin—nobody gives a shit.”

I knew she hadn’t encouraged it. She honestly didn’t even see it. I knew that. But at that moment, logic was nowhere to be found.

My hand shot down, under the hem of those shorts, her bare ass filling my palms. Soft. Round. Fucking perfect.

I squeezed hard enough to make her gasp and yanked her against me. Her petite but incredibly alluring tits collided with my chest. My cock surged against the tight press of her stomach, thick and unignorable. Then I gave one cheek a sharp slap before cupping the soft flesh again.

She gasped, but I cut in before she could say anything. “They all give a shit,” I snarled against her ear, my breath hot on her skin. “Every single one of them was imagining this—their hands on your juicy ass, their cock grinding right here.”

I rolled my hips forward once, deliberately dragging my hard length against the heat at the apex of her thighs. Her lips parted, a broken sound slipping free before she caught it.

My smile lacking humor, I grunted, “But here’s the part you need to get through that stubborn, pretty little head—no one gets to look at you that way. Like they’re picturing you naked and bent over. And no one fucking touches you but me. You’re mine, Jana.”

She shoved at my chest, her breath coming fast. Her voice was ragged and angry, but also laced with something she couldn’t hide. “So what then? You imagine you see some guy flirting with me, and you’re gonna spank me in front of everyone? That’s your plan?”

My low and dark laughter came straight from my gut. I gripped her ass tighter and hauled her higher so she had to cling to my shoulders to stay upright. “No. I’ll drag your sexy little ass into the nearest private place and fuck you so hard you forget every other man who ever looked at you.”

Her throat worked. For a heartbeat, the fight burned brighter in her eyes. Then they flickered in a way I recognized from the track when a driver decided to take the inside line and risk the paint. She stepped into me instead of away, her voice soft and dangerous. “You think I belong to anyone?”

“To me,” I said. No joke under it. No out.

Her glare could’ve burned me alive. Her freckles stood out fierce against her flushed cheeks, green eyes sparking like flint.

And fuck if that fire didn’t turn me harder and hotter, until every thought boiled down to one need—get her naked, get inside, and make sure she never forgot who owned her body.

I broke away long enough to flip Jana around and plant her palms on the bench.

My hands ran up the back of her thighs and over the curve of her, fingers digging just hard enough for her to feel my touch tomorrow.

She swore at me, soft and furious, until my mouth found the slope where her shoulder met her neck.

I set my teeth there—not painfully, but the warning was clear.

“Mine,” I said against her skin, low enough to be a vibration.

“Keep dreaming,” she shot back, but her voice already notched rougher, with no conviction behind it.

I dragged her hair to one side and bent her just a shade more, pressing into her from behind with my hips. No space between us. No room for doubts.

“You feel what you do to me?” My mouth hovered an inch from her ear. “What you’ve been doing to me since you rolled in and beat my recruits like you were born on my track? My patience is gone, Jana. I’m done waiting.”

I lost the last shred of control I’d been clinging to. One rough yank, and her shorts and panties were around her thighs. Then the sound of the fabric tearing against the scrape of my knuckles made her gasp when she saw them pooled at her feet.

I loomed behind her, the heavy press of my body crowding her space until there wasn’t room for air between us. My hands spread over the firm curve of her ass, thumbs digging into the pale skin as I hauled her hips back. The sight of her bare and open for me made my cock throb viciously.

“Anyone looks at you again, and I’ll put them in the ground before they finish blinking.”

I ground against her, the thick ridge of my cock rubbing over her ass. She let out a half moan, and it only made me push harder, hips rolling so she knew exactly what was coming for her. “You feel that? That’s me, hard enough to split you open, and you’re gonna take all of it.”

My hand came down between her shoulder blades, pressing her flat until her tits were crushed to the bench.

“Bend over,” I growled, voice rough with possession. “Show me what’s mine.”

She obeyed with a sharp little glare over her shoulder, then braced her hands on the bench and spread her legs for me, letting me know she was on board with what I was about to do.

Heat punched through my skull at the sight of her pussy bare and slick, glistening in the harsh shop light. Pink folds swollen, trembling, and already wet enough to drip down her thighs. My cock twitched hard, heavy, straining against my zipper.

“Fuck.” One of my hands gripped her ass, spreading her wider just to watch her open up for me. “Look at you. So wet you’re begging without saying a word.”

Leaning over her, I reached around, one big hand sliding up her belly to cup her breast, filling my palm with the soft weight. She gasped, head dropping back, her pretty freckles bright against her flushed skin.

I kneaded slowly and deliberately before my thumb brushed across the tight peak.

Her breath hitched, sharp and shaky. I rolled her nipple between callused fingers until it peaked hard, then pinched the tip, tugging until she moaned low and arched into my grip, hands clawing at the bench for something to hold on to.

“Yeah,” I rasped against her ear, voice gritty with restraint. “Perfect tits, begging for my hands.”

I shifted to the other and teased it with the pad of my finger, then tugged and twisted, making her shiver. Her knuckles whitened as she clutched at the wood.

“That’s it. These tits”—I pinched again, harder, until she hissed—“every inch of you is mine.”

More. I needed fucking more.

I hooked my fingers in the hem of her tank, yanked it up and over her head before she could catch her breath, then tossed it aside. She startled at the sudden rush of cool air on her bare skin and whimpered. Her bra landed in the same pile of fabric.

I stripped my own shirt off in the same motion before pressing myself back into her.

Skin to skin now—her naked back against my chest, her tits crushed under my palms. I squeezed, my thumbs dragging across both rigid tips while my cock ground against her ass, hard and aching. Telling her what was coming.

She moaned, broken and helpless, writhing against the bench with nothing left between us but the heat of our sweat. And fuck if seeing her naked and completely bared for me didn’t detonate something primal in my blood.

I yanked my zipper down with one hand, the rasp of metal teeth loud in the garage’s hush, then freed my cock. Heavy, hard, and swollen so thick it was painful, veins standing out as I wrapped my fist around the base just to keep from shoving it straight into her heat.

She shifted and tensed, as though she was about to argue again. My palm flattened over the small of her back, holding her bent over the bench. “Don’t even think about trying to run, baby. You’re wet just from me hauling you in here. Admit it.”

To prove it, I slid two fingers between her slick folds, dragging them slowly from her clit down to that tight entrance and back again. She gasped, legs trembling, and tried to close her thighs. I inched them wider with my knee, pressing against the inside of hers. “That’s it. Open up for me.”

Her nails dug into the wood grain. “Torin?—”

My gut clenched at the sound of my name on her tongue. I curled my fingers and sank two deep inside her, knuckles grinding against her swollen walls. Her cry punched the air out of my chest.

“Good girl,” I rasped, fucking her on my hand, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet. “Taking me so sweet. Tight little pussy clamping down already. Grip me tighter, baby. Show me how bad you need it.”

She shook her head, panting. “I-I don’t?—”

“You don’t what?” I twisted my fingers until she moaned. “Don’t want this? Liar. You’re dripping for me. Pussy soaked, hot, already begging for me, and I haven’t even given you an inch yet. Your body knows what it wants even if your mouth’s still trying to fight it.”

Her hips betrayed her, pushing back against my hand, chasing what I was giving her. I bit out a groan, leaning over her until my lips brushed her ear. “Say it.”

Her voice was shaky, defiant. “Say what?”

“That you want this,” I growled, scissoring my fingers and pressing the thick head of my cock against her folds, smearing her slick across the crown. “Admit it, and I’ll fuck you so hard and deep you’ll feel me inside you for days.”

She bucked against me, torn between resistance and surrender, until the words broke out of her in a wrecked whisper, “I want you.”

“Such a good girl. Smart mouth. Sharp edges. And still”—I kissed the back of her neck, sucked lightly, and felt the tremor run down her—“you behave when I tell you to.”

I dragged the tip of my cock along her slick seam again, her drenched folds coating me in her arousal.

Her whole body jolted, a ragged sound breaking out of her throat as I raked over her clit and back down again.

I teased her with almost cruel strokes, slow and heavy, letting the fat head of me part her wet heat.

She gasped, hips jerking, and I grinned down at her, low and dangerous. I did it twice more, just because I was a fucking bastard.

“I don’t share, Jana. Not your mouth, not your pussy, not even the air you breathe when you’re under me.”

And then I drove in. Brutal. Deep. No hesitation.