Page 58 of Moto
“Oomph. You’re jaded. Still not over our last race, huh? Are you a masochist?” Reese riles him. “Itching for me to leave skid marks down your back again? Am I the one who got away? The only one who can satisfy your sadistic craving? Let’s go then. I’ll get you off and put my pussy up just to let you save pathetic face.”
Excuse me? I look immediately at Dev, who is seething.
“You’re on,” Viper revs his V-Twin.
“And you’re on your own.” I hop off Reese’s bike, enraged.
All eyes center on me.
“Kayla?” Reese’s tone elevates, dismayed.
“Oh, are we using my real name now?” I rip my helmet off his gas tank. “What happened to pussy?”
“What thefuck?” Reese bites, as I climb on the back of Dev’s bike.
“Get me the fuck out of here.” I’m so pissed, I’m shaking. What the fuck does Reese think? Just because I slept with him, he can pass me around to all his scummy friends? Fuck you.
“Kayla.” Reese stands as Dev turns on his bike.
“Reese,” I echo disdainfully, yanking on my helmet. I flip Reese the finger as Dev drives off. I. Am. Livid. I didn’t put myself through college and nursing school, then fight for a good job, to be fucking objectified as a piece of community ass. This is exactly why I say bikers are nothing but trouble.
The ride home does nothing to calm me. Not even when Dev rubs his hand soothingly over mine at a stop light. I just feel so fucking stupid. I should have never trusted him. Never given in to a biker, period. Professional or otherwise. You can take the man off the street, but you can never take the street out of the man.
“Fuck,” I mutter as I jump off Dev’s backseat once he’s parked in my driveway. I see a ten-mile run in my future to burn off the memory of Reese fucking Dane.
“Hey.” Dev grabs my arm as try to stomp off.
“What?” I tear my helmet off.
“You made him look like an asshole back there.”
“What?” I nearly implode. “He’s the one who made me look like an asshole. I’m not some bike bunny he can just pass around!” I try to escape his grasp, but he locks on tighter. “Dev, let me go.”
“No, not until you calm down.”
“I’m not going to calm down! I’m pissed off and I want to be alone.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m worried you might be a threat to yourself or others.”
“What?” I tilt my head. “Are you being fucking serious right now? You’re psychoanalyzing me?”
“In my professional capacity, yes.”
“You’re as crazy as your brother.”
“We do share the same DNA.”
“Warped DNA.”
“Meh.” He shrugs. “Whose isn’t?”
He’s got me there.
“We do definitely like the same things.” He pulls me closer. Oh no.
“I’ve noticed.” I step back but don’t get very far. “What are you doing?”
“Going after what I want.”
