Page 6 of Pit Stop

“Shut the fuck up. You’re not getting fucked by the entire bar. Your brother would kill me. I’ll take you back to my place, and I’ll take care of you until you’re over this.”

I moan at the thought of him thrusting into me once more and then force my face into a frown. “Fine, if you insist.”

“Shit, are you sure you don’t have any other options? A close friend? Someone you can trust?”

“No. No, I don’t, or else I’d ask you to bring me to them, wouldn’t I?”

“Maybe I should call Forest.”

The thought of my brother finding out about this…

“Don’t tell him. Please, Mav. I don’t want him to know.”

“Yeah, well, he has to know. Eventually.”

“He really doesn’t. This isn’t any of his business.” And this is so embarrassing.

“You think that your family isn’t going to notice when you’re gone for a few days?” he asks as he pushes a helmet on my head and buckles it under my chin. Our eyes meet, and I arch forward to grind my hips against his, trying to get some relief. It doesn’t work. The only way I’ll have any satisfaction is if I’m stuffed full again.

“I don’t care. I don’t. I don’t want anyone to know what’s going on.”

His brows meet and his eyes narrow. Something flashes through his gaze, but it doesn’t linger long enough for me to decipher it.

Instead, he turns his back to me, straddling his motorcycle and revving the engine.

“All right. Better get on and hold on tight.”

I do as he says, throwing my leg over the seat and pulling myself against his strong back. I grind into him as he pulls out of the parking lot, just as a small group of men make their way toward us, their gazes intent on me, their mouths snarling.

“Shit,” he says as he guns it. Gravel flies out behind us as we turn onto the main road and speed off into the warm summer night.

The vibration of the engine beneath us, mixed with the heavy alpha scent of Maverick is making everything slightly hazy.

My pants are damp, both the front and back, and my hole and cock are still leaking profusely. My hands are pressedagainst his hard abdomen, and I tug his shirt up to feel his skin against mine.

I hate how perfect he is.

I’ve seen him without his shirt on before. I peered from behind my books and pretended to be looking off into the distance, but really, my eyes were on him. He’s quite the sight with those tattoos that perfectly line his sculpted chest and stomach.

Not that I want to want him.

Not that I want him to be the one I spend my heat with, but it is what it is.

And I guess it could be worse.

This could have happened with someone really detestable. Someone far uglier and meaner than my brother’s best friend.

At least I’ll like looking at his hot face and body while he knots me.

The thought of it has my entire body cramping up, and I suddenly feel bereft and empty. I need it. I fuckingneedit.

“Pull over,” I cry, making the motorcycle wobble slightly. I feel another wave coming on, and I am beside myself. “Pull over. Please. I need it. Oh gods. I need it, Mav.”

Maverick speeds up, and a moment later he’s pulling off onto a dirt road, shutting the bike off with a flick of his wrist, and helping me off the back. He tugs my helmet from my head and leads me into the forest, not entirely out of view of the road, but far enough in that we’re hidden from any leering eyes.

“Please. Please,” I beg, turning around and grabbing the rough bark of a pine tree and arching my ass out. An offering of sorts.

“Hurry!”

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