Page 18 of Throttle

I play with my dress while gazing out the window. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Stop making excuses and promise me if he does text you, which he will, you’ll answer him. And if he asks you out, you will go.”

Does rejecting a date make me a brat? I know I’m a nice girl, but there’s always something holding me back. Or someone.

“I can’t promise, but I won't rule it out just yet.” There. Good job Tequila.

“I’ll take it. It’s better than nothing.”

We pull into the club next to my car. I drove here because Angel still doesn’t know where I live. No one does. And I’m superb at keeping it a secret.

“Night is young. Want to find out what the guys are up to?”

Not really. I can already tell her what a particularly tall biker with tattoos is doing. But of course, my unhealthy curiosity is dragging me inside and I regret it. I should leave with a bit of my dignity intact. Each of our boys has a woman sitting on their laps. Some of them with their tongues intertwined. Well, Hush is by himself nursing water like always. I’m sure Throttle is amongst them, though I don’t see him.

“Never mind. This was a bad idea.” Before I can sprint away, Angel grabs me by the waist.

“Oh, no you don’t. Bar. Us. Now.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re abnormally strong for a girl?”

She laughs. “There are a couple of douchebag men who can vouch for that.”

“I’m sure Venom would love to have you home. Let’s go.” Again, her grip is exceptionally sturdy.

“He’ll be fine. He knows where I am and I’d invite him, but… he’s not keen on hanging around here yet. And I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.”

True. The guys still haven't matured with Angel and Venom. Some argue that it’s justified. But Venom has certainly shown his worthiness of respect. And the love he has for her is obvious.

Giving up on leaving, I allow myself to relax. Although I keep tugging at my dress, wishing for it to stretch by seven inches. This is the most revealing outfit I've ever worn. Especially here and around Throttle. I prefer a laid-back look, wearing jeans or leggings and a simple top. Nothing flashy. I want to embrace my body, but my personality won't let me. My momma always said, “show off those curves, baby girl.” I’m not saying I never like to dress up. It was just unwanted attention I didn’t enjoy.

I settle onto my stool, making sure not to stumble upon Throttle. And just like that. The prickly sensation on the back of my neck makes me glance at him. Each time I spot him looking at me, my heart's knee-jerk reaction is the same. His smoldering eyes have me entranced and unable to break my gaze. Unable to catch my breath.

I'm uncertain why he keeps scowling at me. His eyes are filled with darkness and it’s terrifying. Menacing. He looks lethal, but I’ve never been more alive.

SIX

Throttle

What the fuck does she have on?

I finish my beer and stare at Tequila as if she's a work of art. Considering every male in this club is watching her like they’re ready to strip her naked and drive their cocks into her.

The tiny fragment of fabric she's wearing should not be called a dress. Why is this making me so angry? I don't own her, so she can wear whatever the hell she likes. Who am I to dictate her wardrobes, especially if it's revealing? Even if her tight ass hugs the bit of material flawlessly.

Jesus. She might as well have been naked.

“You good, brother? You look like you want to murder someone.” The side chick Tank has on his lap is dry humping him as he grips the back of her extensions.

Tequila blushes, and I can’t pry my eyes away. Delicate hints of rose grace her semi-pale cheeks. Her stare captivates me, yet I despise it. She shouldn’t watch me as if I’m her savior.

While she averts her gaze, I spill my beer when I slam the glass down with too much force.

Her crossed legs, toned and captivating, were the ultimate distraction.

Was she wearing any panties?

Christ.

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