Trinity(37)

Mine, motherfucker. All mine.





When I wake, everything hurts. My muscles, my head, and worst of all, my heart. It was just ripped clear in two.

I gaze over at Dev sleeping soundly. He has me caged in his arms with a death grip around my body. I can barely look at him without the guilt eating me alive. What did I just let happen? Two men in twenty-four hours? Two men who look exactly the same but proved to be completely different.

I willingly spread my legs for both of them, damning the consequences. How did I go from choosing neither to fucking both? The worst part is I’m utterly torn. Reese is gone and, as much as that devastates me, I’m more than tempted to wake Dev up and let him ravish me all over again.

I’m a fucking mess.

A Dane brother demo site.

I have to clear my head and consider my next move. And there’s only one way to do that. Run. Figuratively and literally. I slide out from under Dev’s death grip as quickly and quietly as possible. He worked all night, so his exhaustion is in my favor. He barely stirs as I slink off the bed and collect my clothes. A twinge of guilt pinches my chest as I take one last look at the sleeping man. I wish I could be here when he wakes up, but leaving is for the best. I just don’t know how to face him right now.

Once downstairs, I dress in a hurry, then do the walk of shame barefoot from Dev’s house to my truck.

I’m in agony. Reese is gone, Dev is here, and even though they both have the same smile, and eyes, and face, they’ve each stolen their very own piece of my heart.





I know fucking Kayla and then bouncing was a dick thing to do. But I had no choice. At least, that’s what I thought. I needed back in, and I was ready. I kept my sponsors in the loop during my recovery, and as soon as I gave them the green light, I was booked on a flight to Spain. I needed to race, and they needed a win. Too bad my return debut was a disaster for us both.

Now, I find myself back in the one place I couldn’t wait to escape. It’s a strange new predicament for me. I couldn’t stop thinking about Kayla, no matter how hard I tried. That girl got under my skin, and no redline speed, flawless supermodel, or celebrity endorsement could distract me from pining for her. Which is preposterous. The only thing I’ve ever pined for is placement on the podium. Women never really mattered. That may sound cold, but my life is racing, and my commitment is to my bike. But Kayla breached that bond somehow. Funny thing is, I didn’t realize it until I left. Until there was an unfathomable void inside me I had never experienced before. There was no ignoring it, no denying it, and no arguing with it. So here I am, an hour and a half after landing back in the States, stalking her apartment complex like an obsessed freak. There was only one stop more important, and that was Riley’s garage to pick up my bike. Now that I’m armed, I need to become ready. But I’m strangely hesitant. Worried how she’ll react when she sees me. I’ve never given a shit about such a thing before. Women get weak around me, not the other way around. And I hate the aimless loss of control.

Fuck it. I twist the throttle and pop a wheelie straight into her driveway.

I’ve never backed down from a challenge before, and this time is no different.

I rev the engine on the asphalt under her kitchen window. I rev it until she peeks out the glass. My heart pounds at the sight of her -heart-shaped face and long dark hair. She disappears way too soon, leaving me restless.

I look on under my shield as she materializes on her front step, approaching me slowly, leisurely, with a wayward look in her eyes. She doesn’t know what to make of me. That’s okay. At the moment, I don’t know what to make of myself. My pulse quickens the closer she comes. Once in reaching distance, I turn off the machine and remove my helmet.

“Well, well, well, look who blew back into town. The prodigal, sex-stealing son.”

Sex stealing, huh? Okay, maybe I deserve that. We did have a few rounds of mind-blowing sex before Kayla passed out in Dev’s bed, and I walked right out the door.

“I don’t know how much I stole,” I argue superciliously. “I believe I paid you for your services.” I allude to the big fat check I left behind.

Kayla scoffs as I drink her in. I love getting her flustered. I also love how hot she looks in those tight, ripped jeans and white see-through T-shirt.

I rest my forearms on my lid as I balance on my bike, imagining all the things I’d like to do to her body. Kayla’s curves are more killer than COTA.

“What are you doing here, Reese?” She folds her arms and fires away bluntly. She’s clearly in no mood to entertain me.

I rock my bike back and forth trying to figure out the right way to explain this. It’s not like I wrote a speech.

“I wanted to see you.”

She raises her eyebrows doubtfully.

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you fucked me and then just left. Doesn’t exactly leave a girl with the warm and fuzzies.”

“I had to go.” I cop out.

“It’s fine, Reese,” she bemoans. “I just thought our friendship at least warranted a good-bye.”

“It did. And I know it’s not fine. So don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not bullshitting you. I know who you are—”

“You don’t know anything about me,” I cut her off.

“Then enlighten me. Why are you here?” she insists.

“Because . . . I needed . . . to take a step back . . .” I let the sentence linger.

“A step back? From . . . racing?” She fills in the blanks.

I nod.

“Why?” Kayla’s response is incredulous.

“Let’s just say my much-anticipated return was anticlimactic.”

By the look on Kayla’s face, it’s clear she has no idea what I’m talking about. And why would she? She knows zip about racing or my world. And how it suddenly came crashing down all around me.

“I stalled out on the second to last lap. I was in the fucking lead and then . . . nothin’.” I cut my throat the same way the engine cut out. “Machine fucking malfunction.” Of all the goddamn things.

By the look on Kayla’s face, my catastrophe doesn’t amount to jack shit on her scale of importance. “Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something,” she states snidely, without an ounce of remorse.

She isn’t going to make this easy for me; she wants to see me squirm, which she can do like no other, but I don’t care. I’m swallowing my pride for the first time and am going to lay it all out on the line. I’ve crashed and burned before; I’m not afraid to do it again. But if she thinks I’m going to drive off without a fight, she has no idea who she’s dealing with. I’ve fought for everything I have, and I’ll fight for her, too.

“I think it is,” I agree. “And I think I’m going to listen. I’m done for the season.” It destroys me to admit that. “There are only two races left. And no chance of a comeback with that last disaster.” I scratch my face. This rock and a hard place is killing me.

“So what are you going to do?” She acts uninterested, but she’s still entertaining me, so I take it as a good sign.

“I thought I’d get reacquainted with the area.”

“But you hate it here,” she states the obvious.

“I have my issues, that’s true, but maybe it won’t be so bad if you’re with me.”

“Me?” Her eyebrows shoot up.

“You. C’mon.” I jerk my head. “Let’s go for a ride.”

There’s an abundance of trepidation in Kayla’s dark eyes. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not? Because you don’t like bikes?”

“Because I don’t like bikers,” she reminds me. Yeah, right.

“That’s bullshit. Or you wouldn’t have slept with me.”

She bites her lip. “Why do you have to bring that into it?”

“Because I’m hoping for a repeat. Twenty dozen times over.”

“No,” she refuses.

“Yes.” I lean into her. “I know you want to ride me . . . I mean, my bike.”

Kayla shakes her head, but I can see she’s wavering. I notice how she drinks in my thighs straddled over the seat and the seductive aerodynamic curves of the machine. Beauty in high precision. The one-of-a-kind bike and I make up a supercharged performance sensation. I know she doesn’t want to miss out on that.

“C’mon, Kayla,” I coax her. “You have one life. Live it.”

“Is that your motto?”

“No, my motto is give me fucking fast. Now, get your ass on this bike.”

Her breathing picks up, as if suddenly anxious. “I’m not that easy.”

“Baby, don’t I know it. You had me panting for three months, and then you give it up to me the night before I have to leave. Talk about fucked up.”

“What was fucked up is that you left without even so much as a good-bye.”

“You going to hold that over my head forever?”

“It just proves my point.”

“Which is?”

“Bikers are nothing but trouble.”

“Well, I can’t speak for all of us, but I definitely am.” I flash a flirty smile. “And you know what I think?”

“I couldn’t care less what you think.”