Throttled (Dirty Air Series Book 1)

There are only two things that can suck the happiness straight out of me.

One is any type of news of someone dying.

And two is my dad.

The second reason sends me a deceitful grin that makes my stomach shrivel up. He stands next to my car in the pit area, his negative energy pulsing around him. Not exactly what I need before a practice session.

Over the years, I’ve become a pro at avoiding my dad, an easier task since I’ve never liked being around him when he gets angry. Now that I’ve outgrown him, he moves on from hitting me to verbal lashings. The time Maya saw him smack me…that was unlike him. He usually keeps calm nowadays, at least physically, choosing to flip out when I perform less than perfect on the track.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” What I really want to say is Dad, get the fuck out of here. I can’t stand you. But I don’t say what I wish to because I prefer professionalism. Unfortunately, my dad funded a lot of my career at the start, his name carrying weight at Bandini. It was his same racing team after all.

“After your poor display at the last couple of races, I wanted to check in.”

Sure you did.

But this is my life. Anything below first place might as well be last. The only thing keeping me calm is the sound of race cars zooming by while I breathe in the smell of fresh car wax.

“Right. Hopefully this one will go better.” I can win the Japanese Grand Prix since I’ve done it in the past.

“And here we are getting ready for the next practice session. Santiago, do you have anything to say to your fans?”

For fuck’s sake, Maya has the worst timing.

My dad ogles her as she spins around in the garage. Gross. She keeps going, asking Santiago questions.

My dad focuses back on me. “She’s a news reporter now? What’s she doing in the pit area? It’s no place for a woman.” He still lives in an era where women get married and live the rest of their sad lives in the four walls of their home. Times have changed, Pops.

“Nope. Santiago’s sister vlogs.” My girlfriend, I wish to say.

Maya and I haven’t talked about titles yet. We only hashed things out two weeks ago in Singapore. But everything about us feels title-worthy because we spend lots of time together whenever Santiago isn’t around. In my bed, in hers, in one of the private suites, and secret dates in the cities we visit. My sex drive with Maya rivals that of an eighteen-year-old.

I don’t like how my dad looks at her, pissing me off even more.

“Hmm. She shouldn’t be filming.” His growl of a voice does nothing to intimidate me.

“They already gave her the go-ahead for it. It’s been good publicity and nice for branding since she has a lot of followers.” Shit. Did my voice sound like I am proud of her?

My dad assesses me, giving me the fucking chills. His perceptiveness makes him cruel because he didn’t get where he is today by being stupid.

“I guess it’s fine,” he says.

Everything about his face screams how it isn’t. His eyebrows raise, he rubs his chin, his eyes have an evil spark. A montage of every villain from every movie.

“I better get ready for another practice round. I’ll see you later?” I don’t want to leave him alone here with Maya, but I have to.

I sneak up next to her before hopping into my car.

“Stay away from my dad. He’s a sneaky piece of shit.”

Her eyes widen. “Good luck out there!” She gets my message, her retreating form comforting me as I get in the cockpit of my car.

Maya’s hand strokes my chest. We decided to stay in tonight and not attend any sponsor events. No loss here. She texts Santi about not feeling well while I tell the guys I have a headache.

“I don’t think it’s going to end well. I always thought he was a bad guy…but he’s not. And now they killed him.”

By him, she’s referring to Bob on Stranger Things. Her tears dampen my shirt.

Wow, she really gets into shows.

“Do you always cry during sad scenes?” I pull her into a hug. It’s cute, endearing even. But I don’t want her to cry over something not real.

“I have a lot of feelings. Okay?” Her eyes glisten as she looks up at me. I give her a soft kiss on her forehead, her sigh making me smirk.

And the action continues on the TV. Maya snaps her head back, eagerly watching the next part.

I have learned my lesson. When they say, “Netflix and Chill,” they mean to pick the most boring show because any other choice means no sex, no hooking up.

I fall into the Stranger Things trap. Maya swats my hand away whenever I put a move on her.

“You need to stop sighing every time Steve is on the screen. This crush has gotten out of hand.”

My heart surges at the sound of her laugh. A weird feeling I’ve grown accustomed to whenever I hang around Maya, similar to how my dick gets rock-hard whenever she gets near me.

“I can’t help it. That hair, his babysitting skills. Even his personality. Sigh.”

How the mighty have fallen, becoming jealous over a TV character. “I can babysit. And my hair is definitely better. Personality? I sure as fuck hope mine’s nicer seeing as I’m a real person. And I am older, wiser. I can fucking kick ass with a baseball bat.” I flex my arms around her for emphasis.

“What does older and wiser have to do with the appeal?” Her chest shakes against mine.

She’s totally teasing me. So I do what any logical man would do in my position. I shut off the TV and show her exactly how more experience comes with age. She stops complaining about the show the moment my lips find her clit.

I creep around, listening in on Santi and Maya’s conversation. It’s not my fault they’re so loud and we share the same walls. Right?

I’m jealous of Santi. There. I put it out there.

Maya spends the whole morning before the race with him, hanging out while I spend the day by myself. She hides who we are from him because she doesn’t want to upset him or inconvenience him before the final Prix.

Unfortunately for the Alatorre siblings, I’m not above eavesdropping.

“What are you going to do once the season’s over?” Santi’s voice carries through the thin walls.

“Mm, I don’t know. I’ve started to fall into my own thing with my vlog. I have over 900,000 followers. That’s, like, amazing growth in a YouTube vlog career that started only eight months ago. The travel vlogging is nice, but YouTube F1 videos are what make me trendy and different.”

Pride in her voice brings a smile to my face. I watch her videos when I miss her or boredom strikes, or when Santi steals her away because Maya feels too guilty to say no.

We’ve already traveled with F1 for eight months, with Maya and I dating exclusively for the last four weeks.

“But is that really a job? Following me around?”

What an idiot.

“Uh. I don’t follow you around.” Maya’s voice hesitates, unsure how to handle Santi’s obliviousness.

“I don’t mean to put you down. But don’t you want a nice, stable job? One closer to home with less traveling? I can’t have you here forever.”

You can’t. But I can.

Or at least until Maya doesn’t want to be around anymore, if she doesn’t. We still need to find our footing together.

I think up opinions like I’m part of the conversation.

She lets out a deep sigh loud enough for me to hear. Never a good sign.

“I’m living in the moment. I’m young. I have time to figure my life out. You don’t know much about social media, but it’s growing—vlogging is a huge industry with good pay by views. And sponsorships.”

“That’s always your problem though. You may live in the moment, but you gotta grow up sometime. Are videos a career?”

“Wow…okay. I don’t know what made you so pissed off today, but you’re being a crappy brother right now. I’m going to take a walk.”

An idea hits me. I open the door to my suite the moment Maya walks past it, hurling her inside.

“What are you—”

My hand covers her mouth before she can get out another word. I bring my index finger up to my lips. Her eyes change from dull to gleaming because I can now change her mood for the positive. Fan-fucking-tastic.

I remove my hand from her mouth and lock the door behind her.

I check the time on the clock. We have thirty minutes before I need to check in at the pit.

“Think you can keep quiet?” I whisper. Her brother is a few feet away, and the walls are thinner than a fucking condom.

She bobs her head up and down, eyes lit with excitement.

“Always enthusiastic.” I trail a finger from her neck to her chest. My hands find the hem of her Bandini polo and pull it over her head, revealing a white lace bra that makes my dick pulse.

She toys with the zipper of my race suit.

“You look so hot in this. I almost don’t want to unzip it.” Her words bring a smile to my face.

I shut her up with a kiss because I don’t want to risk Santiago hearing us. My tongue explores her mouth, enjoying her exclusive taste, one I find addicting as hell. A magnetic energy flows around us, always pulling me back toward her. Not that I want to stay away. Our tongues dance and tease each other. Our kiss stifles her moan as my hands explore her body, my rough fingers brushing against her smooth skin.

My hands palm her perfect tits. I pull down the soft cups of her bra, revealing her perky breasts and tight, pink nipples. The best fucking sight. I trail wet kisses down her neck, sucking to the point of marking her. Fuck would I like to. But I move along because I don’t have enough time.

My dick throbs, rock-hard in my suit and craving her attention.

Her hands get caught up in my hair, tugging me along for encouragement. I’m a man on a mission with a time limit.

“Sh.” I rub the rough pad of my thumb against her lips.

Her heavy breathing might give us away. She nods, staring down at me while I pull one of her taut nipples into my mouth. Her back arches as she pushes herself closer to me. I suck one nipple to a solid point before moving on to the other, my tongue trailing along the divot in her chest.

My other hand finds the button of her jeans. I dip my hand below, finding her slick and ready for me. Talk about the best fucking feeling, to turn her on with minimal effort required.

Her wild eyes and messy hair drive me crazy. Nothing compares to satiating the hunger between us, being able to please her to the point of oblivion.

Maya’s hand touches the outline of my dick through the race suit. She palms me, doing soft movements up and down.

“Time to take this off,” she says in a husky murmur.

Good girl.

The thrilling sound of the zipper rings through the room. Maybe Maya corrupts me just as much because I never do anything like this before a race.

I pull my arms out of the top part of the suit and finish unzipping to my waistline. The clock tells me we have fifteen minutes left. While I wish I had more time with her, a quickie will do. She tugs my dick out from the tight layers of flame-retardant material.

She gets down on her knees. The sight alone makes my dick pulse, pre-cum leaking from the tip before she grabs onto it. Her tongue darts out to lick the white bead.

My head drops back.

Shit, her mouth feels good.

She traces lazy lines with her tongue across the shaft. It’s perfect. She’s perfect. All so motherfucking perfect.

She takes me in her mouth, a warm, wet heaven welcoming my cock. Her tongue drags along the underside of my shaft as she pulls her mouth back and forth. She sucks, pumps, and licks me. Sensations make my brain short-circuit.

She pumps me into her mouth with one hand while another grips my ass. I regain enough mental clarity to pull her up, her lips popping as my dick bobs.

“Nope. That’s not how this is going to go today.”

Her honey-brown eyes narrow. I trail my thumb across her plump lips, loving how she looks after sucking me off. A brief kiss wipes the frown off her face.

I tug down her jeans and thong. She’s right there with me, fumbling with taking off her sneakers. The best kind of teamwork.

Red numbers on the clock mock me.

“Now you have to be quiet,” I whisper before licking the shell of her ear, her body breaking out in goosebumps.

She likes the quiet game we play, wondering who will mess up first.

I place her hands on the side of the gray couch. The suite is small, not meant for sex. But fuck it, I can make the layout work with a little extra effort.

“Keep your hands there.” I grab a condom from my wallet.

Thank God for planning ahead.

I turn back toward Maya. The sight of her perky ass in the air, leaning against the arm of the couch, ready for me. Her tits hang out and her back arches. It’s a lot to take in. She bites down on her lip, hitting me with the hungry look in her eyes as she checks out my dick.

I slip the condom on.

“Too bad your suit isn’t sex-friendly,” her voice rasps.

“My my, do you have a thing for race suits? Should I be concerned? I can lock you away from the other drivers and keep you here for myself.”

My hands palm her ass, eliciting a light moan from her. One finger slides down the crease of her ass until I reach her slick folds. I plunge a finger inside, and then another, her wetness surrounding me.

I lean in close to her ear. “Always ready for me. Tell me, do you get this way while watching me race? Does it turn you on?”

She nods her head, the silent admission exciting me.

“It’s a dangerous sport. High speeds. Collisions.” I leave a path of kisses down her spine.

She turns her head to look at me over her shoulder.

“I’ll let you in on a secret though… Fucking you is the equivalent of winning a World Championship. I could never win again and be perfectly fine so long as you’re by my side. In my bed. Me inside of you. I like you a lot.”

She doesn’t have a second to register my words. I have the foresight to cover her mouth with my hand before I thrust into her wet pussy. My teeth grit together as I hold back a groan, her tight body accepting my cock and fisting me like no other. Our connected bodies moving in unison mesmerizes me.

And fuck if that doesn’t do something to me, a wave of possessiveness rushing through me as I drag my slick dick out, soaked to the hilt.

She feels tighter in this position, my pants concealed because I don’t want Santi to hear me. I let my hand go from her mouth once the shock factor is done.

Maya claws at the fabric on the couch, a gorgeous image of her rattled by me. I ram into her again and savor the feel of her squeezing my dick.

She’s heaven. Perfect for me.

My hand grips her ponytail, wrapping it around my arm, thick strands brushing against my skin. I tug, fulfilling a fantasy I’ve thought about since meeting her.

Her body pulses at the mix of pain and pleasure. Skin warms beneath the touch of my other hand. I squeeze her tit, loving the feel of her pebbled nipple beneath my palm.

I want her to know I’m the only one who can fuck her like this, make her feel like this. I want to ruin her for any man who dares to try to come after me.

I fuck her like she’s the last woman on Earth. Because to me, she might as well be.

She does a good job keeping quiet, only letting out a few whimpers here and there. I pull on her hair again in a silent demand to look at me. She blows me away with a view of her brown eyes, hazy from lust, matching flushed cheeks and lips plump from my ravaging. I could come right there at the sight of her.

But I don’t.

Because good guys finish last.

My grip becomes more possessive on her hip as I pump unrelentingly into her. I angle myself to hit her G-spot. Her whole body convulses around me, her reaction pulling a smirk from me.

I stroke her special spot and give it all my attention. My dick slides back and forth like never before, her arousal encouraging me as my thrusts become sloppier, less controlled. It feels like magic when she shatters around my cock. Her heavy breathing fills the silent room, her chest heaving up and down as she stares at me with a lazy smile.

Her orgasm gives me the final push. I thrust into her without holding back, balls slapping against her ass as she takes it all. I groan as I find my release. My toes curl at the feeling of her squeezing me, practically pleading for more. The whole thing seems fucking poetic.

My lips kiss her neck as I pull out of her. I dump the condom in the trash and situate my suit, wishing we had more time.

Maya keeps to the same spot, lying over the side of the couch with her eyes closed. Her back moves to the steady rhythm of her breathing. I grab her clothes from the floor, wanting to help her in whatever way, when she finally speaks.

“I think you’ve ruined me.” Her whispered voice rings through the quiet.

Shit. That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.