Throttled (Wild Riders #1)(20)

“Yes,” I said, leaning forward to press my lips to his. I wanted him to touch me. To kiss me. Every move he was making with his hand was bringing me that much closer to the edge. He broke our kiss, leaning me back again to move his fingers deeper inside of me—hitting the spot that only he had ever been able to find. “Omigod!” I cried out, not being able to stay quiet a moment longer.

“You love this, don’t you?” his deep, raspy voice fueling my orgasm along with his mouth and hands. I loved every second of it. He was everything I’d ever wanted. “You want me to f*ck you?”

“YES!” I screamed out as I felt my insides shatter around his hand. The only thing that would have felt better is if he’d been doing exactly what he’d just asked me if I wanted. The waves of euphoria rippled through my body and when I opened my eyes to look at him, to beg him to take it even further, he was gone.

“Are you all right?” Beau said when I sat up straight up in the bed. My reality was jumbled with my dreams as I turned to look at him. His sleepy eyes as confused as I felt. Had I really just had a sex dream about another man while I was sleeping in my boyfriend’s bed?

I was going to hell. I should probably throw all of my sweaters away.

“Yeah,” I said, swallowing down the dryness in my mouth. “I’m okay.”

“That was crazy,” he said, rubbing his hand down my back, trying to soothe me. “You were screaming out. I thought you were possessed.”

“I was? Screaming out what?” I said, nervously. What if I’d screamed Reid’s name? What if I’d said some of the things I’d dreamt? Oh god.

“Couldn’t understand a damn thing.” He chuckled. He wouldn’t have been laughing if he had any idea what had just happened in my filthy sleeping head.

Yeah. That’s what a real orgasm sounds like.

Yep... going to a special Hell for filthy dream cheaters.

“Was it a bad dream?” he said as I planned my afterlife.

I felt my skin flush hot beneath the surface. “Something like that.” I wasn’t sure what it was, and I wasn’t sure whether I wanted it to never happen again or happen every night for the rest of my life. “It was, um, confusing.”

To say the very least.





Talk about getting kicked in the balls. Seeing Nora with Beau’s arms wrapped around her made me want to vomit. And punch things. And break shit. As in, everything in damn sight.

Even the promise of bedding Tally hadn’t been enough to calm the rage I’d felt. I’d somehow managed to play it cool when he walked over to where we were in the midst of a very heated conversation. It had taken every ounce of self-control I had not to throw him across the bar. I bet he just loved groping her in front of me. He always wanted what was mine and now he probably thought he’d actually beat me.

Little did he know, my wheels were turning. Nora had tried to say that she hadn’t thought about me over the years, but judging by the way her body reacted to me and the jealous way she’d rift me about talking to Tally, she was lying. She wanted to play games and act like we were strangers, but after seeing how well she’d “moved on” I was having a change of heart. Making her see that I, that we, deserved a second chance seemed like a much better plan.

Even if I lost, at least I could say I tried with everything I had. Full throttle. That was how I was going down.

Much to Tally’s dismay, I ended up going home with Hoyt that night to an empty bed. I tossed and turned until the sun came up. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her kissing him. She should have been kissing me. That was my girl in his f*cking arms. She could lie to me all she wanted, but I saw it in her eyes. She couldn’t lie to herself anymore.

Could she?

There had to be a way to make this right.

I’d been up early to meet the construction crew and worked with them most of the day, but I still couldn’t stop thinking about her. I jumped on my bike and hit the trails in the timber surrounding the cabin the second we were done working for the day. If I was going to clear my head, the best place to do it was on two wheels.

If I wanted Nora Bennett to give me a second chance I was going to have to make it happen. She was as stubborn as the day is long and unless she was pushed, she was never going to back down from thinking that her pretend-it-never-happened way of thinking was wrong. She couldn’t pretend that what we had was nothing any more than I could.

When I just couldn’t ride any more, I pulled out my phone. What were the odds that she still had the same phone number? It started to ring as soon as I pressed send and my stomach bottomed out as if I’d just jumped my bike over a hill. The sun was starting to sink down for the night and I was trying to think of something to say if she actually answered. It was pathetic. I knew it, but sitting around and wishing I could talk to her would have driven me even crazier. It was Saturday night and while I should have been gearing up to go out with my friends, like a normal, single, twenty-something, I was sitting on my bike trying to decide what I was going to say to a girl who had told me she didn’t want to talk to me.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Nora?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Really? You deleted my number from your phone?”

“Reid?” She sighed. Of course she’d deleted it. She’d been pretending I didn’t exist. “What do you want?” The agitation in her tone was clear.