Throttled (Wild Riders #1)(59)

“Absolutely.” He looked over at Brett and Georgia. “Can you make sure she gets home?”

“Of course,” Brett answered. I could see the sparkle in his eyes when he turned to look at my sister. Could the playboy actually be looking for more than just a one night stand? Although, maybe what my sister needed was a night of reckless fun. She hadn’t dated anyone since Jamie had died. Perhaps one wild night with a motocross bad boy was exactly what she needed to jump start her love life.

“I can get myself home, Reid,” Georgia said proudly. Or maybe she didn’t need anything at all.

“I know you can, Georgia-girl, but just humor me. Let my guy here be a gentleman and all,” he persuaded.

“I guess it would be all right,” she said, giving Brett a look when she thought he wasn’t looking, but he was and the pink of her cheeks gave away that she was enjoying it.

“I’ll be home tomorrow,” I said to Georgia as I stood up. Reid was right beside me and we both pushed our chairs back. “Night, G.”

“Good night.”

Brett said his goodbyes and as we were walking away, I knew the first thing I’d be asking my sister about when I saw her tomorrow was how the rest of her night went. It was time for her to let herself fall again, and judging by the way that Brett was paying attention to her all night, I’d say he was up for the challenge.



*



“So one week, huh?” I had brought up the inevitable as we climbed into bed. I’d pulled on one of Reid’s shirts and left just my underwear underneath. He was down to his boxers as soon as I suggested we go to bed. His lips grazed mine as we cuddled together.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone heavy and disheartened. “It sucks.”

“I’ll be okay,” I told him. “We will be okay.”

“I know, baby. I’m just not ready to leave you yet. I’ll miss you.” He pressed his lips to mine. “And this.” His hand ran down the length of my body before slipping underneath of my shirt and caressing my skin softly on its way back up. “And these.” He chuckled when he found my breasts bare and cupped one, then the other with his hand. “I’m going to miss all of you.”

“Well then...” I sat up and pulled my shirt over my head, before straddling him. “Might as well get your fill of me before you have to go.” I grinned as he pulled me against his chest and locked his mouth to mine. He was leaving and it might be a month or so before we actually got to see each other again. I was damn sure going to get my fill of him. If that was even possible. We definitely gave it our best effort before we fell asleep that night, neither of us wanting to let go of the other. Six more nights like that and we might have to take some time apart out of sheer exhaustion.

I woke up to an empty bed but I could hear the rumble of dirt bikes outside and knew that Reid hadn’t gone far. What I was surprised by was the fact that my camera was sitting on his pillow with a note from him.



Come take some pictures, Shutterbug.



I was up and dressed quickly, my hair half-hazardously thrown into a knot on the top of my head. The morning light wouldn’t last long and I was excited to have a camera back in my hand. And not just any camera, my camera. He must have gone to my parents’ house and picked it up while I was at work one day. Just another sweet thing to add to the list of sweet things he did for me.

As I walked over to the track, I snapped a couple pics of the landscape, to see if the settings were how I’d left them, and if I even remembered how to adjust them. It was like riding a bike, each click and twist seeming natural as I adjusted the lens.

I saw Reid on the far side of the track, 237 still emblazoned on the front of his bike. He was riding over the whoop section—a succession of small hills, bumps really, that can send a bike off into many different directions if not handled with control. He looked a little looser today than I was used to seeing. His normal, upright position a bit more lax. Perhaps our long night of love making had taken too much out of him to ride today. I felt myself grinning at the memory of last night. I clicked a quick picture of him coming out of a turn. He looked strong and capable, but different. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I frowned as I looked harder at him on the track, the difference of his riding clear to me.

The bike revved hard as he approached the double jump and as soon as the bike was in the air, I knew something was wrong. The silence that followed as I watched the bike seize and toss Reid on the landing was worse than watching him get punched in the face. His body lying motionless on the track. My own body frozen in shock, I waited for him to get up. To shake it off as if he hadn’t just hit the ground at an extreme rate of speed.

I dropped my camera on the ground and took off running as fast as I could. I had to get to him. Trying to see the rise and fall of his chest under the chest protector he was wearing was pointless, but I could see the way his leg was bent at his knee. It wasn’t normal. It was painfully obvious that something was broken. He was not okay and I wanted to get to him. To let him know that I was there for him, but I felt like I was running in slow motion. The grass and dirt I was running through may as well have been quicksand. His injury looked bad and I knew what that meant for his next season. He was going to need me by his side to get him through the disappointment but there was no place I would want to be. The tears were streaked down my face by the time I made it to his side.