Her arms tightened. “Yeah.”
I covered one of her hands with mine where it rested against my stomach. “Hold on tight to me, baby.”
The satisfied sound that rumbled in my chest got lost beneath the engine when I started the bike. The Harley roared to life under us, and she shifted slightly behind me, a tiny adjustment that dragged her closer and made my cock pulse hard enough to remind me I was one speed bump away from turning this bike around. Instead, I pulled out of the lot and headed toward Redline Speedway, my woman wrapped around me like she already knew exactly where she belonged.
6
CENTURY
Ifelt Saylor tighten behind me as we rolled through the entrance of Redline Speedway, her arms snug around my waist and her thighs hugging mine in those fucking leather pants that had been testing my sanity since she opened her apartment door.
The ride had been its own kind of torture. By the time I parked in the paddock area, the only thing keeping me from taking her somewhere private was knowing how badly she wanted to see this place.
The Speedway was Kane’s biggest arena, which meant it had the polished face of professional racing without losing the pulse that made it ours. Permanent road courses stretched under banks of lights, the asphalt cutting through multiple turns and elevation changes designed to test nerve, machine, and discipline. The pit lane was packed with teams moving through final checks, crews crouched around tires, mechanics leaning into open hoods, riders rolling bikes toward technical inspection, and race officials keeping the chaos moving with clipped hand signals and radios pressed to their ears. Safetybarriers, runoff areas, scoring towers, garage blocks, and medical stations surrounded it all.
This was the lifeblood that ran through my veins.
Saylor climbed off the bike after me, and I had to take a second before touching her because watching her swing one leg over the seat was sexier than I’d thought the movement could be. The leather dragged tight over her thighs, her hair fell over one shoulder when she pulled off the helmet, and her cheeks were flushed from the ride.
I took the helmet from her and watched her look around, her eyes widening as she took everything in.
“This is incredible.” She turned in a slow circle. “I knew it was big, but not this big.”
I stepped in behind her and slid my hand to her lower stomach, pulling her back against me because I wanted her close…and every man within twenty feet needed to understand she wasn’t standing there alone. She leaned into me without hesitation, and her easy trust hit my chest almost as hard as the feel of her ass against my thighs.
“One of the biggest raceways in the state.” I lowered my mouth near her ear so she could hear me over the engines. “Only pro races here. We’ve got other raceways where shit gets rowdy. Redline is where the world watches us pretend we’re civilized.”
She tipped her head back with a giggle. “Pretend?”
I grinned. “Some of us are better actors than others.”
Her laugh slid straight under my skin, and my fingers pressed a little tighter into her waist. She had no fucking idea what she was doing to me, or maybe she did and was enjoying it. Either way, I was fucked.
I turned her toward the paddock, keeping her tucked close as we started walking, and every few feet she asked another question. She had clearly done some homework, and the curiosity in her voice was too real to fake. Her interest in myworld made me want to show her every hidden corner just to watch her eyes light up again.
The first group I introduced her to was near Jana’s car, where Nitro was crouched beside the front end, talking low with one of the crew chiefs. Their kids, Nella and Von, were with one of the old ladies somewhere safer and quieter, but Jana looked ready to remind every asshole watching that having a baby hadn’t taken a single ounce of speed out of her blood.
Another brother, Axle, stood a few bays down near his own setup, scanning the track with the focus that made him a great road captain.
When we approached, our sergeant at arms’ gaze dropped briefly to my hand on Saylor’s waist, then to her face, and his mouth curved with enough amusement that I knew I’d hear about it later.
“Saylor”—I pulled her a fraction closer because subtlety had never been my strong suit—“this is Nitro and his old lady, Jana.”
Taking in Saylor’s outfit with approval, Jana’s smile came quickly. “Okay, I like her already. Anyone who shows up to a speedway in leather pants on her first big night has taste.”
Saylor flushed but held her ground, which made me even more pleased. “They’re new. I figured if I was going to ride on the back of Levi’s bike, I should look like I belonged there.”
Nitro made a low sound that might’ve been a laugh, but he stifled it with one glare from me. “Careful saying shit like that. He’s gonna hear ‘belonged’ and start measuring you for a property vest before the first heat.”
I gave him a look. “You got somewhere else to be?”
“Not anymore.”
Jana smacked Nitro’s arm with a chuckle. “Ignore him. He gets mouthy when he’s proud and doesn’t know what to do with it.”
Saylor laughed, and I watched her shoulders relax as she stepped a little more naturally into the conversation. She asked Jana about the car first, then about how soon she’d returned to training after having Von, and I could tell from Jana’s expression that the question landed right. When Saylor asked about weight distribution and whether her reaction timing felt different now that she’d taken time away from competition, Nitro’s eyebrows lifted. Jana grinned wider, and I felt that possessive pride rise in me again.
We moved through the paddock after that, stopping with crew chiefs, racers, and brothers who had all clocked my hand on her back within two seconds of seeing us. I didn’t leave space for confusion. My palm settled at her waist or the base of her spine, and when a couple of younger drivers looked at her a little too long, I gave them the kind of stare that had the color draining from their faces.
