Burnout (The Holland Brothers Book 1)

Avery’s hands dig into my sides as I take a turn too fast. Fuck. I let off the gas and drop my speed as I return to town. My anger has turned to frustration by the time I pull into the empty restaurant parking lot and park next to her Bronco.

I kill the engine, but neither of us moves.

“I’m sorry,” I say without looking at her.

I miss the heat of her body behind me when she climbs off and stands next to the bike.

She flips the visor up and the fear or trepidation I expected to see in her eyes isn’t there. “Why are you apologizing? That guy was an asshole.”

“I shouldn’t have taken you there.” I don’t know what I was thinking. She doesn’t belong at some rundown track. We’re from two different worlds. If she didn’t see that before, she definitely does now.

“I’m fine.” She removes the helmet and sets it on the back of my motorcycle. Her blonde hair is messy, and her pink dress has ridden up high on her thighs. How many tight, pink dresses does this chick own? I hope a lot. She looks fucking perfect.

My gaze drops to her lips as she says, “Seriously, Knox. I’m fine. But how are you?”

“You’re worried about me, princess?” I smile at the concern in her eyes. That was just a slice of everyday life for me. It’s cute that she thinks I was ever in danger. I’ve known Justin since we were kids. He’s harmless. An asshole, no doubt, but I’ve never seen him throw a punch. He’s taken quite a few though.

“That guy was saying some pretty shitty things to you.”

“He’s just pissed because his racing career never went anywhere.” Failure makes people bitter. I’ve seen it in others, and I’ve felt it in myself at times. I shouldn’t have let Justin’s words get to me. I knew he was provoking me for a reaction, but I don’t understand what he was trying to prove. That I’m hotheaded? That I can’t control myself? I don’t know for sure, but I fed right into it.

“I didn’t know that you lost your team.” Avery moves closer so that her leg brushes against mine, and her hand comes up and rests on the front of my jacket. “I’m sorry.”

Amusement makes one side of my mouth pull up. “And what do you have to apologize for?”

“Nothing. I’m just sorry. What happened?”

“I got into it with a teammate after he crashed into me at the championships. I shoved him in front of the media. The league doesn’t take too kindly to violence between riders and the team owners made a choice between him or me.”

I expect her to look at me differently, but she doesn’t.

“What did he do?”

My brows knit in confusion.

“He had to have done something to make you shove him.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I just watched a guy goad you, basically begging you to hit him, and you didn’t.”

I think it’s the first time someone has assumed it wasn’t my temper that caused the whole thing and I’m taken aback that she’s so quick to trust me.

“Link didn’t do anything. I mean, yeah, he said some shit and crashed into me, but I shouldn’t have put my hands on him. It’s what he wanted.”

“They why did you?”

I work my jaw back and forth. “It was my mom’s birthday. She died ten years ago. She would have been fifty. I wanted to win for her. Instead, I fucked everything up.”

“You made a mistake on a really bad day. That’s all.”

A mistake that cost me everything.

“This isn’t how I saw the night ending,” I say, trying to steer us back to light conversation.

“Yeah, me neither.” She smiles. “But I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

When I say nothing, she takes the hint.

“Okay. Well, do you want to come back to my dorm? Quinn is probably at Colter’s, but even if she’s there, I have my own room.”

“Another time. It’s late.”

Her surprise is apparent. “You’re turning me down?”

My dick throbs in protest. She’s standing here in that little dress looking like a goddess and I can still taste her. “I’m trying to be noble here. Don’t push me, princess.”

“Why?”

I get back on the bike because I don’t trust myself not to touch her. “I’m not a relationship kind of guy. If we have sex, it doesn’t change anything.”

“Who said I was a relationship kind of girl?”

She doesn’t have to say it. Maybe she’s testing the waters by sleeping around for a bit, but eventually, she’s going to want to settle down. I’m not made that way.

The next thing I know, she’s climbing on in front of me and draping her arms over my shoulders. “I know it doesn’t change anything. I’m not going to turn into a clingy stalker. You’re hot, but you’re not that hot.”

My brows lift and a small chuckle loosens the tension in my chest. I reach out, guiding her closer with a rough grip on her hip. “Is that right?”

She’s full of fiery determination until my other hand slips under the hem of her dress. Her expression goes soft and her lips part as I glide a gloved hand up her leg. I should stop. Go home. Jerk off. Call someone else. But I’ve never been good at doing the noble thing anyway.

I reach the top of her leg and my thumb brushes her panty-covered clit. “If I slipped off these gloves, would I feel how soaked you are for me?”

“Yes.” Her eyes flutter closed.

She’s beautiful. Needy and desperate for me. She wants to see what it’s like to be with a guy like me, and I want her, so I stop fighting it. She knows what this is.

I increase the pressure and make quick circles over her clit until her breaths come in little pants. When she’s practically grinding against my hand, I slip it under her panties and let them snap back against her sensitive core. Her body tenses and she gasps, but I’m already back to soothing the ache with my fingers gliding back over her swollen flesh.

“Knox.” The way she says my name has me wishing it were more than my fingers buried inside of her.

“Come for me, princess.”

She does, biting down on her bottom lip like she’s trying to hold in all those sexy pants and moans. I want all of them, so I bring my mouth to hers, swallowing them as she rides my hand through the waves of pleasure.

I don’t stop until she goes limp against me. Her head falls against mine and she sucks in air. I fix her panties and remove my hand. She eyes my glove as it emerges and blushes at the wetness now coating the leather.

I bring that same hand up to her lips and brush my thumb over her plump bottom lip, then kiss her again.

When we break apart, her eyes are a bright blue, and her skin is flushed. “I think I like motorcycles.”