Page 84 of Scarred Angel

MAKSIM

My M8 pulls out onto the street just in time to catch her bike taking a left at the intersection, the traffic light my saving grace. I push the gas and call her cell, hoping she has a comm link in her helmet. After three rings, she picks up.

“What the fuck are you doing? You removed your cast?”

“I did. It comes off in just one more week. What’s the harm?”

I grip the steering wheel and exhale a sharp breath.

“What if you’re not fully healed yet? Why would you do this? And why would you just take off without saying anything? You knew I was stopping by.”

“Maksim, I have somewhere to be.”

“Where the fuck do you need to be that you cut off your goddamn cast, Valentina?”

She’s silent for several aggravating seconds.

“I’ll call you when I get back, I promise. Go home, Maksim.”

“Fuck that.”

She accelerates.

“Valentina, pull over.”

The line goes dead.

“Fucking hell.”

I toss the phone in the passenger seat and grip the wheel, flooring it through the intersection, weaving between cars with eyes locked on the taillight of her bike. She squeezes through a narrow gap between a van and a Civic, brushing inches from metal, and I curse under my breath, my knuckles white on the wheel.

“Kolibri, you’re going to kill me.”

She doesn’t know what it does to me, seeing her like this. The wind snapping her ponytail, that helmet turning just enough that I know she knows I’m still behind her. I punch the gas again and whip a turn to follow her through a side street, my tires screeching as I keep her in sight.

But fuck me, watching her ride like that, her body tight against the frame, expertly leaning into every curve, and streaking through the dark highway like a bolt of lightning. It’s filthy, insane…And it’s hot as fuck.

Not that I should be surprised. She loved Kai’s bike. He used to take her for short rides around the property when she was a kid. I can only imagine things progressed from there as she grew.

Wrought iron gates slide open, and I follow close. At the end is a wide steel building, with a tall metal door closed up tight.

I kill the engine, throw my door open, and slam it shut.

She’s just getting off the bike when I storm toward her. I don’t know if I want to yell, kiss her, or bend her over that seat and redden her ass so she never pulls this kind of shit again.

“Explain yourself.”

Valentina’s helmet swings from a handlebar as she shakes out her hair and grins. Those dimples are not getting her out of this. Not tonight.

I fist the front of her jacket and drag her against me. “You could’ve fucking killed yourself.”

“I’m fine.” Her voice softens, the amusement fading when she hears what’s underneath. How close I am to damn near losing my mind.

“This is your first time on a bike since the accident, and you go full out?”

“I’ve been riding for a long time, Maksim. I know what I’m doing.”

She presses her palm to my chest, and I know she feels the chaos behind it. Her gaze lifts. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”