Page 32 of Throttle

“Who’s Aladdin?”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

His dimple flashes on one side. “I am. Even with my fucked-up childhood, I got to watch Disney movies.”

Throttle's upbringing wasn't the best. He never talks about it, but he was eager to get out.

He tugs at my waist, causing my back to collide with his firm chest. My ass pressing between his thighs.

Focus.

He stretches his tattooed arms around me, trapping me in his embrace. “There's a kick starter on the right side. That’s how you turn it on.”

I fix my eyes on it, and he aids me in starting it. Honestly, I had no idea what I was doing.

“Here…” He taps the metal. “This is the clutch.” Moving his hand over mine, he guides me to where it is. “You pull in, then push down on the shifter. Over here.” He pats my left leg, sending bolts of tingles up my thighs. To ignore it, I follow his instructions. “Then slowly give it a little gas and release the clutch. Got it?” His warm breath envelops me, causing a complete loss of brain function. In one quick motion, I accidentally disengage a tad too fast, and we go soaring.

“Slow! Slow!”

I react with fear, closing my eyes, as if it's a sensible decision. Throttle saves us by stopping his bike and laughing. I can’t believe he’s laughing.

“I’m glad you find this amusing. When I said I was uncoordinated, I was not kidding.”

I glance back, captivated by his charming smile, which reaches from ear to ear.

“You’re right. From now on, I'll listen to you. We should start at a slower pace next time.” His arms wrap tighter around me. “But wasn’t that fun?” he whispers.

Fun? I could imagine many other things that are fun. Shopping. Coffee. Reading. Sitting here with Throttle’s body pressed to mine. Those are my ideas of a good time.

I stay locked in his hold, spinning to face him. “You’re a jerk. You know that?” Staring into his eyes, I go weak. If he didn't keep me steady, I would probably collapse off his bike.

“You smell nice.” His nose brushes my cheek.

I gulp as his warm breath lightly caresses my skin.

This might sound insane, but it’s possible Throttle was flirting with me. He has complimented my pleasant fragrance before, but never with a such intense gaze. Embracing me with such gentleness.

As his jaw muscles move, he watches my mouth. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He lets me go and I’m suddenly not so warm anymore.

His arms are castles, and their absence leaves me empty.

TEN

Tequila

Ever experience a vivid dream? It creates an immersive encounter, as if you were there in person. This is one of those dreams.

The constant pounding and knocking makes it impossible for me to tell if I'm awake or not.

What the hell is happening?

Another loud bang startles me, echoing outside my door like a gunshot. Yeah, this is definitely not a dream, and I am for sure not sleeping.

I switch on the floral lamp I bought at a flea market last summer and glance at my phone. One forty-five. Who is knocking so late? Although, the possibilities are endless living where I do. Drug dealers. Drunks looking for more booze. Or creepy men with nothing else to do than target young women who are by themselves. Me being said woman living by herself.

I stare at my ceiling with the crushing invisible weight on my chest, waiting for another loud noise. When silence fills the air, I shut my eyes, wishing they would give up and leave.

Quiet.

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