Page 76 of Throttled (Dirty Air 1)

How the mighty have fallen, becoming jealous over a TV character. “I can babysit. And my hair is definitely better. Personality? I sure as fuck hope mine’s nicer seeing as I’m a real person. And I am older, wiser. I can fucking kick ass with a baseball bat.” I flex my arms around her for emphasis.

“What does older and wiser have to do with the appeal?” Her chest shakes against mine.

She’s totally teasing me. So I do what any logical man would do in my position. I shut off the TV and show her exactly how more experience comes with age. She stops complaining about the show the moment my lips find her clit.

I creep around, listening in on Santi and Maya’s conversation. It’s not my fault they’re so loud and we share the same walls. Right?

I’m jealous of Santi. There. I put it out there.

Maya spends the whole morning before the race with him, hanging out while I spend the day by myself. She hides who we are from him because she doesn’t want to upset him or inconvenience him before the final Prix.

Unfortunately for the Alatorre siblings, I’m not above eavesdropping.

“What are you going to do once the season’s over?” Santi’s voice carries through the thin walls.

“Mm, I don’t know. I’ve started to fall into my own thing with my vlog. I have over 900,000 followers. That’s, like, amazing growth in a YouTube vlog career that started only eight months ago. The travel vlogging is nice, but YouTube F1 videos are what make me trendy and different.”

Pride in her voice brings a smile to my face. I watch her videos when I miss her or boredom strikes, or when Santi steals her away because Maya feels too guilty to say no.

We’ve already traveled with F1 for eight months, with Maya and I dating exclusively for the last four weeks.

“But is that really a job? Following me around?”

What an idiot.

“Uh. I don’t follow you around.” Maya’s voice hesitates, unsure how to handle Santi’s obliviousness.

“I don’t mean to put you down. But don’t you want a nice, stable job? One closer to home with less traveling? I can’t have you here forever.”

You can’t. But I can.

Or at least until Maya doesn’t want to be around anymore, if she doesn’t. We still need to find our footing together.

I think up opinions like I’m part of the conversation.

She lets out a deep sigh loud enough for me to hear. Never a good sign.

“I’m living in the moment. I’m young. I have time to figure my life out. You don’t know much about social media, but it’s growing—vlogging is a huge industry with good pay by views. And sponsorships.”

“That’s always your problem though. You may live in the moment, but you gotta grow up sometime. Are videos a career?”

“Wow…okay. I don’t know what made you so pissed off today, but you’re being a crappy brother right now. I’m going to take a walk.”

An idea hits me. I open the door to my suite the moment Maya walks past it, hurling her inside.

“What are you—”

My hand covers her mouth before she can get out another word. I bring my index finger up to my lips. Her eyes change from dull to gleaming because I can now change her mood for the positive. Fan-fucking-tastic.

I remove my hand from her mouth and lock the door behind her.

I check the time on the clock. We have thirty minutes before I need to check in at the pit.

“Think you can keep quiet?” I whisper. Her brother is a few feet away, and the walls are thinner than a fucking condom.

She bobs her head up and down, eyes lit with excitement.

“Always enthusiastic.” I trail a finger from her neck to her chest. My hands find the hem of her Bandini polo and pull it over her head, revealing a white lace bra that makes my dick pulse.