Trinity(52)

“I won’t.” I squeeze my eyes shut, so fucking close to the jaded edge of bliss.

“Good, because this is just the beginning.” He lifts his hips, digging in just a little deeper, causing more friction. “Later, I’m sprawling you out on the bed, burying my face in your pussy and licking you”—he flicks his tongue against my mouth mimicking exactly how he plans to pleasure me—“for hours just so I can hear you scream how much you love me over and over again.”

“Oh fuck,” I choke, his perverse words send me spiraling. “I love you!” I fly apart. “I love you!” I ride him hard as explosion after explosion leaves my insides an orgasmic wasteland.

“Fuck, Kayla!” Dev squeezes my breasts roughly as he comes, throwing his head back as my seizing inner walls reign over his paralyzing climax. “I love you more.” He heaves, his body locking up beneath me, cords of muscle bulging from his neck and tattooed biceps.

Winded, our overworked bodies both succumb to the hot water’s draw, pulling us down and entrapping us in heated delirium.

I half float, half lay on Dev, daydreaming euphorically about the future and all the promising possibilities it holds.





It’s been a little over a month since I left, and I can honestly say I’ve never felt this tired or lonely. I used to love the thrill of a new season, but for some reason, it just feels lackluster. Maybe it’s because I’ve been out of the groove longer than I ever have before. Maybe it’s because our lead engineer unexpectedly retired, and working with someone brand new is a challenge I wasn’t prepared for. Maybe it’s because, for the first time, I wish I wasn’t sleeping alone.

The first test was not as stellar as I had hoped. We have a lot of work to do to align what I need while unlocking the max performance of the bike. It’s always a trial of the engineer’s and rider’s abilities, but I know it can be done.

I sink into the mattress in my silent hotel room. I’ve only been in Malaysia a few days, and although I don’t normally miss the States while I’m gone, today is particularly hard. I close my eyes and begin to drift off. I’m hoping tomorrow will be a better day, but before I can fully immerse myself in sleep, my phone rings. I barely move from my burial position as I reach for the nightstand. When I look at the screen, I break out into a smile. I hit the green button and wait for the video chat to connect.

“Hey, moto,” Kayla beams.

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Happy birthday.” She blows me a kiss.

“Thank you. How did you know?”

“A guy who looks just like you told me.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m sort of jealous he’s the only one who gets to spend it with you.”

“Well, if you weren’t halfway around the world, I would give you your present in person,” she flirts, “but for now . . .” There’s a knock on my door.

“Hang on.” I climb out of bed to answer it. On the other side is a man holding a small chocolate cake with glowing candles and a small wrapped box.

I look at the phone. “Are you responsible for this?”

“Guilty. I couldn’t let the day pass without seeing you blow out your candles.”

I can’t stifle my elation. And like the excited child I am, I blow out the candles, the loneliness disappearing as quickly as the flames. The man hands me the cake and small box with a wide smile, bowing as he backs away.

I close the door, drop the cake on an end table, and crawl back into bed.

“Thanks, Kayla.”

“You’re welcome. When you get home, I’ll give you your real present. But that one will have to do for now.”

I hold the box up and shake it next to my ear. It weighs next to nothing. I tear the red paper off while Kayla watches. I pop open the lid and break out in a fit of laughter.

“You like?”

I pull out the hot pink pair of panties. “I love.”

“Good.” She smiles. My girl has the best sense of humor around. “I’ve finally reached the UPS stage of a relationship.”

“Yes, you have. Is Dev taking good care of you?”

“Of course. But it’s a little lonely in the house without you.”

My life is lonely without you.

“I’ll be back soon. You’ll get me for four whole days after Qatar.”

“Four whole days?” She curls her lip disappointed. “Not nearly enough time.”

“I know.” I yawn, the exhaustion hitting me like a ton of bricks.

“Go to sleep. I didn’t mean to keep you up. I just didn’t want to miss my opportunity to wish you a happy birthday.”

“Thank you. I love you.” I close my eyes. Jesus, I’m totally shot.

“I love you, too. Sweet dreams.”

“They’ll only be sweet if I dream of you.”

“Then by all means.” She giggles flirtatiously. “Night, moto.”

“Night, baby.”





I watch Kayla pace around the family room like a loon. It’s Reese’s first race of the season, and we promised we’d watch. I mean, I always watch, but this is Kayla’s first time witnessing Reese race. Calling her nervous would be putting it mildly.

After traveling from Malaysia to Australia to Spain, he’s now in Qatar, a small country in the Middle East. Reese has told me the shores of the country are some of the most beautiful and majestic he’s ever seen. And I believe him, considering he’s surfed on every continent applicable in the world.

“Babe, relax.” I lounge on the couch as she paces off the top layer of the rug.

“I can’t. I’m so nervous.”

“About what?”

“What do you mean about what? The first time I met Reese, he was riding a motorcycle and nearly died right in front of me. An experience like that kind of sticks with a person.”

My smile fades. Kayla’s been scarred by a motorcycle accident, so her apprehension is suddenly warranted. The camera on the television screen pans out, displaying the multiple lines of bikers ready and waiting under the stadium lights. The mass takes off, and I swear I hear Kayla’s heart hit the ground.

“Will you come here?” I scoot forward and tug at her hand.

“I don’t think I can sit.” Back and forth, she goes.

“Fine. Have it your way. I’m here when you’re ready.” I lean back on the leather.

I’ve watched what feels like a million races with how long Reese has been competing, but I have to say, observing Kayla experience it for the first time makes it much more interesting. Reese’s place on the grid was lumped somewhere in the middle, so he’ll have to fight for the lead, which he’s currently doing, gaining ground and passing the other racers at lightning speed. The animated announcers keep the excitement hyped, calling play-by-plays as the riders make their dangerous moves.

“Jesus!” Kayla covers her eyes as Reese sneaks between a Ducati and a Honda to steal third place. He sets a good pace as he charges on for what he’s really after. First.

“Oh!” She nearly goes through the ceiling as a rider is ejected from his bike and flies across the track. By the twelfth lap, the appeal is lost. This is usually where I take a bathroom break, but Kayla can’t peel her eyes away from the screen. Reese is riding fantastically, hugging the curves with the utmost precision, leaning spectacularly. His elbow and knee touch the ground as he hits a particularly sharp apex, and the friction actually causes sparks.

“Why does he have to go so low?” Kayla complains through her covered mouth. She hasn’t removed her hands from her face the entire race.

“Because that’s his job, and that’s what makes him the best. His incomparable ability.”

“This is torture.”

“If you are like this in my family room, I can’t imagine what you’re going to be like in Austin.”

Reese made it crystal clear that Kayla and I must be at his one and only American race. I’m cool with it. I go every year, but Kayla? She may need a sedative. Especially when she watches the race from VIP seating, i.e. Reese’s garage behind the paddock, where the entire team is housed.

“I’m going to be a stark raving lunatic.”

“That will probably be bad for Reese’s image.”

She turns and glares.

As it comes down to the final lap of the race, Reese is still fighting for first, a blue and yellow blur whizzing over asphalt. He battles it out with another rider, the front tyre of his Yamaha kissing the back of the Ducati’s. Kayla is now screaming at the TV mounted on the fireplace as they race neck and neck. The announcer’s yelling and the crowd roaring as Reese crosses the finish line a hair before the other racer.

“He won!” Kayla jumps up and down. “Holy shit, he won!” She catapults herself onto my lap.

“Did you doubt him?”

“No, I just . . . I’ve never seen him in his element.”

“Pretty intense, huh?”

“Yes. Just as intense as watching you perform surgery.”

“You don’t have to try and make me feel better just because my brother is a world-famous champion.”

“I’m not.” She presses her chest to mine and runs her fingers through my hair. “I’m just pointing out the magnificent talents of both of my men.”