Page 85 of Scarred Angel

I cut her off with my mouth. Hard and desperate. All teeth and frustration. She gasps, and I take it, kissing her deeper and pinning her to the side of the bike. One hand grips her hip, the other threads into her hair.

“You scare the fuck out of me, you know that?” I mutter against her lips. “One more second, and I would’ve torn the city apart looking for you.”

Her fingers curl into my shirt. “I’m right here.”

“Damn right you are.”

She smiles and presses a kiss to my lips and looks around. “I should’ve told you sooner.”

“What? What is this place? And why the fuck did you do that?” My eyes drop to her leg, then back up to her face, checking for any signs she’s hiding pain.

“This wasn’t how I wanted it to go down. But things got messy fast. And if I’m not here tonight…” She trails off. “It’s just been too long.”

“Too long for what?”

Before she can answer, my attention snaps to a loud mechanical grind. The metal door starts to rise, and behind it, fluorescent lights flicker to life over a massive garage, where rows of machines of sleek, low-slung beasts line wall to wall, chrome glinting under the lights. Imports, customs, muscle. A goddamn fleet.

Valentina’s eyes sparkle with pride as they find mine again, and she takes a step back, motioning for me to follow. It’s then that I take notice of another bike, parked just feet from hers.

Remi.

“All this is yours?”

She nods. “Mine and Remi’s. We race these babies.”

I catch her wrist. “As in street racing? The illegal kind?”

She arches a brow. “I mean, if you’re suddenly having a moral crisis, we also race on the speedway across town once in a blue moon.”

“Valentina.”

She steps in closer, eyes on mine. “Yes. The illegal kind. The kind where we risk everything, drive like hell, and sometimes walk away with a shit-ton of cash. A lot of times.”

“You don’t need the money.”

She scoffs. “It’s not about the money, Maksim. It’s the thrill. Feeling the car come alive under you. Taming the beast, as they say. And owning the road. It’s—everything.”

She’s chewing on the corner of her lip, eyes roving my face like she’s waiting for me to lose it.

But all I can think about is her on that bike, moving between cars like she was born to ride. This garage, the machines, the fire in her eyes, and the reverence in her voice. It all clicks.

It’s so fucking her.

And I suddenly want to drag back to my car…but not to go home.

“No more surprises, Kolibri,” I say, tipping her chin.

She smirks. “Can’t promise that. Maybe I’m full of surprises, Maxy. The fun kind.”

I trail my mouth along the curve of her neck, breathing her in. “If you’ve got somewhere important to be tonight, don’t tempt me.”

“I promise to make it up to you later,” she says, giving me a quick kiss before tugging me toward the garage.

“You finally brought Maksim.” Remi is leaning against a black Demon 170, an energy drink in one hand. The grin on her face lets me know she’s been here the whole time.

“I sort of crashed her little secret,” I say, eyeing the inventory.

Remi pops the tab open with a hiss. “You crashing shit? That tracks.”