Throttle's Seduction(Insurgents MC Romance Book 7)(22)

Throttle braced himself and nodded.

"You sure in hell got over your contempt. Now I know why you haven't  been fuckin' any of the club whores-you've got new pussy for now. She  must be a pretty good fuck for you to pass on Big Tits for No Tits."

The brothers standing around Throttle and Rock howled. "Damn, man, how  in the hell could you find her tits? Her pussy must be extra special to  make her worth fuckin'," Wheelie joked as the other brothers threw in  their jabs.

Throttle's jaw tightened. The brothers knew he loved big tits, and a few  weeks ago, he'd have agreed with them. But now that he'd tasted Kimber,  sucked her perky, soft breasts and pink nipples, he couldn't imagine  wanting her to be anything more than what she was-perfect. Even her  sassy attitude appealed to him. She was a challenge that set off high  voltage shocks in him. He fucking loved it.

"You planning on sharing your little secret?" Rock asked.

Before Rock could pick up his beer, Throttle had him by the throat,  hissing, "Don't you ever fuckin' ask me that again. You show her respect  or I'll beat your ass."

Rock shoved Throttle back, his nostrils flaring. "You wanna beat my ass?  Come on, let's go." He stood in a fighter's stance, his fists clenched.

Throttle stepped toward him and raised his arms, but then Rags, Wheelie,  Chas, and Bear intervened. "What the fuck you gonna fight about? Pussy?  Shit, that ain't worth it." Wheelie grabbed Lola and pulled her to  Throttle. "We got good pussy whenever we want, so why let a chick get  between you?"

Rock breathed out, his face relaxing. "He's right, brother. Pussy is just pussy." He picked up his beer and guzzled it.

Throttle, still tense and pissed as hell, leaned back against the bar.  Lola wrapped her arm around his waist and whispered in his ear, "Rock's  right. I'm always here for you, baby. Rosie, Wendy, and I have been  dying to do a stint with you, but lately, you never have time for us. We  miss you. You don't need a woman who has grease between her nails  ‘cause she's doing a man's job. You need women who are soft and  sweet-smelling and know how to get your dick up and sucked good. Real  good." She licked his earlobe.                       
       
           



       

Throttle unwrapped her arm from him and gently pushed her away.  "There're other brothers to pleasure, and you know a lot of them love  spending time with you, Rosie, and Wendy. Hit on Rock. He's always  ready."

"You used to be too."

He ran his hand through his hair. "I know." What the hell was he doing?  He was passing up a sure thing with Lola and the other club girls for a  maybe with Kimber? "I got something in my blood that needs some time to  work out. After I have my fill, I'll be back in business." I just need  to get Kimber out of my system. His cocky demeanor pleased Lola, but  deep down he suspected it wouldn't be that easy to walk away from the  woman who'd gotten into his head and dick.

He watched Lola walk away, the curve of her ass cheeks shaking in her  Daisy Dukes. She stood by Rock, her talons running down his back, as he  and Axe played pool, her gaze fixed on Throttle. Turning away, he  motioned for another beer.

Kimber's scent lingered on his T-shirt, and the taste of her was still on his lips.





Chapter Fifteen





Kimber screeched her bike to a halt and jumped off, storming into the  shop. Without a word, she handed Hawk the file and made her way to the  service garage.

"Don't you wanna check out the 1936 Harley? It's a beauty," Hawk said.

"I got work to finish. Maybe later," she grumbled as she closed the door  behind her. Who the fuck does Throttle think he is? Like I'm gonna come  looking for him. Arrogant sonofabitch! If I want to screw I don't need  him. Kimber went to her area and picked up the torque wrench. She was  madder than hell about losing her head at the club. How could she have  let him kiss her like that in front of all the other bikers? She bent  down and secured the bike jack. What the hell was she thinking? And who  was the blonde bitch who couldn't keep her hands off him? He's probably  banging her right now. What's it gonna take for me to learn that bikers,  especially one-percenters, are bad news? Just because he was  good-looking didn't mean squat.

She went over to the radio and turned the volume to the maximum level,  blasting the music loud so she could extricate him from her mind. She  didn't want to think about him, the kiss, or the ache between her legs.  None of that would do.

Throwing herself into her work, she'd successfully avoided thinking  about Throttle for the past three hours. During her break, she sat at  the table in the employees' room, sipping on an iced tea. Her beeping  phone made her jump, and she held her breath before she noticed the text  was from Riley. She groaned aloud.

Riley: Hi. What're u doing?

Kimber: Working.

Riley: Right now?

Kimber shook her head and drummed her fingers on the table. She was  finished with this dumbass. She'd told him to get lost politely, and he  obviously hadn't caught on.

Kimber: Ya. Don't text anymore.

She placed the phone in her uniform pocket and ignored the incessant  pinging. It seemed like the day would never end. She rose from the table  and went back to fixing the Harley.

After work, she'd gone for a long, fast ride around the dirt roads that  crisscrossed the mountains and valleys. By the time she pulled into her  driveway, the heat of the day had receded as the sun sank to the  horizon, the sherbet orange and pink hues giving way to a dusty purple  sprinkled with the occasional sparkle of a distant star. By habit, she  glanced around, hoping to see Throttle on his powerful machine, his  corded legs hugging it so perfectly, but the street was quiet. The only  sounds were the sporadic din of dinner dishes and the garbled voices  from random television sets. She pulled her bike into the garage and  entered her home.

Deep down, she knew Throttle would never have been waiting for her on  his iron horse. She was being silly; the summer sometimes made her yearn  for romance. The long carefree days and breezy nights made her crave  something out of the ordinary, but by the end of the season, her life  was just the same as it was before summer began. Maybe if she went to  him she could at least have a helluva summer fling, but she had no  intention of running after him. He was cocky enough, and if she sought  him out, he'd be downright impossible. Let the macho prick come to her.

But she knew, since he was a biker, he'd never chase her.

Sweaty from her ride, she took a cool shower. With a towel wrapped  around her, she went over to her window to close her blinds, glancing  out. She gasped and clutched her towel tighter around her. Straining,  she fixed her stare on the cluster of pine trees across from her, her  heart thumping. She swore she saw someone watching her from behind the  trees. Quickly, she switched off her light and moved to the side,  pinning herself against her wall, then peeked out the corner of the  blinds.                       
       
           



       

She stayed like that for a very long time, and just when she was ready  to abandon her post, deciding the light had been playing tricks on her, a  shadowy figure emerged from behind the group of trees. Goose bumps  carpeted her arms, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.  From her view, he looked as if he were going to cross the street and  come over to her house. Her stomach lurched as she tried to remember  whether she'd closed her front door. She knew she'd latched her screen,  but a hard jerk could open it in a second. Her thumping heart filled her  ears, but then she switched her bedroom light on and off in rapid  succession. The figure stopped, then bolted away. Leaning her head  against the cool wall, she struggled to regain her normal breathing.

After she shut her blinds, she slipped on a nightshirt and went to the  living room, checking that her front door was closed and locked. She  debated about calling the police, but what could she tell them? That a  figure of what appeared to be a man crossed the street, then jumped away  after she turned the lights on and off? She couldn't describe him nor  could she even tell them that he was coming to her house, even though  she had a strong feeling he was. He was fuckin' watching me. She  shivered.

For a long while, she sat on her couch trying to piece together what had  happened, finally deciding that it was probably a neighborhood teenager  who'd wanted to catch a glimpse of her taking her towel off. If he'd  meant something harmful, he wouldn't have run off so quickly. She made a  mental note to make sure all her drapes and blinds were closed the  minute darkness hit.

She padded into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of sweet tea and a  leftover burrito, then settled on her couch and flipped on the TV. After  she finished eating, her eyelids kept drooping so she stretched out.  Within minutes, she fell fast asleep.