Throttled: Dirty Air (Book 1)(64)

A nap at 9 a.m.? He’s always preferred to be private about his love life ever since he and his high-school girlfriend broke up after he chose F1 over her. Now my brother keeps his heart locked up like a maximum-security prison.

I squeal when Noah’s arms tug me back to bed, ending my conversation with Santi. Warm sheets wrap around my body as Noah pulls me into his chest.

“What are you doing up this early?” I dig how his voice sounds extra gravelly in the morning.

I lay my head on his chest. “Santi texted me to check in. Told him I’m staying with Sophie.”

“Mm. When does your flight take off?” His fingers drag through my hair, untangling knotted strands.

“Later today on a red-eye. We’re flying straight to the next race.”

He pauses his hand movements. “You know what that means?”

Can’t say I do. My brain doesn’t function in the morning without coffee.

My voice strains. “No. But tell me.”

More running of fingers through my hair. “Now that you’re sober enough to consent, I have a few things in mind.”

Noah’s lips find mine, kissing me senseless. I break away after a few minutes.

“I want to shower first. I feel gross after the club last night.” My nose scrunches at the thought of not washing off my makeup. I may or may not look like a racoon, but I need a mirror to confirm.

“What a great idea. Let me help you.” Noah hauls me out of bed and toward the bathroom. He places me on my feet before he sets up the shower, turning knobs and checking the temperature.

“It’s a tough task. Are you sure you’re up for the job?” I bat my lashes.

I don’t even know if I’m up for the job. Are we doing this? Going all the way?

Noah answers the question for me when he pulls off the big T-shirt I wore to sleep. I don’t even question how I ended up in said T-shirt, but I’m going with the flow, not wanting to kill the moment.

“You’re so beautiful.” He runs a hand through his already messy hair. His eyes roam over my body, taking me in. The way he looks at me makes me feel sexy, invigorated, and brazen.

I find it tough to distinguish steam from tension in the bathroom. It’s hot, he’s hot, the whole situation is fucking hot. My body feels feverish as he slowly appraises me again. His fingers drag across the slopes of my breasts, my skin pebbling at his touch, while excitement bubbles within me. His hand finds the clasp of my bra and he snaps it off, leaving only my lace panties. The last barrier between us.

My boobs bounce as I move closer to him. I decide he looks entirely overdressed and his boxer briefs need to go. My hand dips below his waistband, brushing against his cock, swiping at the bead of pre-cum on his tip. His body tenses and he groans.

“Let me help you out of these.” I pull at the waistband and drag them down his muscular legs. He kicks them off, exposing me to his naked glory.

My oh my, is it a sight indeed. People rave about American football or hockey players or any other type of sport. Ladies don’t understand how sexy F1 racers are. I pant at the image of Noah standing before me, all his golden skin visible, muscles tensing at my assessment. I was right. He does have rock-hard abs, a fuckable body, and kissable lips. He even has a defined v-cut that I want to run my tongue across. His cock is huge, begging to be touched, licked, and fucked. I’m game for all of the above.

“God. How many hours do you work out in a day?” The question slips past my lips without a filter.

He chuckles to himself, making me glad I got my stupid question out of the way. His body isn’t even remotely fair. I shut my eyes and open them back up to make sure I see everything right.

I bite my lip at the sight of him. He pulls me toward him, ending our eye-fucking session.

“How about I show you how much stamina I build up from my workouts. That’s the most impressive part.” He runs his hand down my spine.

I’m sold.

Our shower remains temporarily forgotten. His lips find mine, his tempo desperate, persistent, and careless. Teeth gnash, bite, and suck. Sensations overwhelm me, making me question if this is too much. I can combust here with a few touches to my center. His tongue strokes mine, invading my mouth and taking me prisoner. Sign me up for this life sentence. My heart hammers in my chest, unable to settle down at Noah’s relentless kisses. Hands grope his body, testing, touching, wanting, and assessing the ridges of his muscles as I memorize every part of him.

His hands find my underwear. Fingers trail the outside until they dip into my core. I groan as his fingers rub against me, making my body pulse with need.

A snapping sound rings over our labored breaths before loose lace falls at my feet.

“You tore my underwear? I’ve never had that happen before. I thought that was a thing in movies.”

His husky laugh turns me on even more.

“I’m not like any of the guys you’ve been with before. I may not be your first fuck, but I might as well be.” His domineering words ignite every nerve ending in my body.

Noah seals his possessiveness with a kiss. He demands everything from me, leaving no room for objections as he shatters any last bits of insecurity about us.

He lifts me in one easy swoop, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries me to the shower. Our lips break contact when he situates us under the waterfall of hot water. Because this is Singapore and the people here are extra as fuck, it pours around both of us from all different directions, like they made this shower with couples in mind. I thank them for their thoughtfulness.