Throttle's Seduction: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 7) (16 page)

“What the fuck do you want from me, Mariah?”

“I want your forgiveness.” Her big eyes scanned his face.

He breathed out. “All the shit between us is in the past. Yeah, I was fuckin’ pissed for a long time, but I got over it. I’ve forgotten it. What’s done is done.”

“So, you forgive me?”

A dark expression crossed his face and he pressed his lips together as he shook his head. “I’m not the forgiving type, but I’m over it.”

She looked up at him from under hooded lids. “I hope you’re not over
me.
” She laughed softly, then skimmed her tongue over her upper lip.

He stared at her impassively.

“Do you think I look good?” She ran her hands over her curves.

He tilted his head in a nod.

She smiled widely.

“What the fuck do you
really
want?” His jaw tightened and twitched.

She stepped closer to him but halted when he held out his hand, stopping her from coming any closer to him. “I wanted you to know that I never stopped loving you. You’ve always been on my mind… I want you back. I still love you.”

His laugh had a hard edge to it. “Pony threw your fuckin’ ass out, didn’t he?”

She shook her head and looked at him, her eyes shining. “I threw
him
out. I’ve been wanting to call you for the last ten years, but my stupid pride held me back. Finally I decided to come back home and see you. I want for us to get back together. I’ll be real good to you, baby. Remember how much fun we used to have? How we’d fuck for hours under the stars at Arrow Lake?”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Standing here with you, it feels like it was just a week ago. I still get the tingles when I look at you, baby. You’re the only man who’s ever had that effect on me.”

“You fuckin’ trashed what we had, and you come back here and think we’ll just pick up where we left off? Fuck, you’re crazier than I remember. I’m not interested. All the feelings I had for you died a long time ago.”

“I don’t believe you. I saw the way you looked at me, and I know the spark is still there. You still like these, don’t you?” She cupped her big breasts and pushed them together.

Shaking his head, he snorted. “Any man’s gonna look at a woman’s tits. It doesn’t mean shit. I fuck plenty of women. I don’t need you.”

Mariah’s shoulders sagged a little and she wringed her hands. “We do need each other.”

“I don’t need any woman.” He uncrossed his arms; he was growing weary of her.

“Can I hug you? I’d really like to touch you, and if you don’t feel anything after we hug, I’ll go away. I just want to hold you again.”

“Your ten minutes are way over.” He spun around and walked out of the house, the screen door slamming behind him.

“Throttle!” Mariah said, but he kept walking toward his Harley. She yelled out his name again and he revved his cams loud to drown her out. Then he sped off, never looking back.

*     *     *

Nightfall erased all
remnants of muted color as glimmering stars punctured the darkening sky. Sitting at a table nursing a beer, Throttle stared out into the night, the trees surrounding the clubhouse swallowed by the encroaching blackness. He’d ignored Dawn’s phone calls that started ten minutes after he’d left her place. He didn’t trust what he’d say to her, so he’d decided to wait until the following day to speak with her. She never should’ve had Mariah come over when he was there. Did Mariah seriously think he’d let her jump back into his life and bed just because she looked good? The truth was the only woman on his mind was Kimber. Not Mariah, not Lola and Rosie who kept trying to get back in his bed, and not Big Tits who kept asking the brothers about him when they’d eat at Ruthie’s.

He picked up his phone and dialed Hawk’s number. “Hey. I called for Kimber’s number.”

A pause ensued on the other end. “Sorry, dude, but I can’t give it out.”

“Fuck, man. I’m not gonna stalk her or anything. I just have to ask her a question.”

“I was gonna say that if you happened to go into my office at the clubhouse and look under my duplicate employee files, I couldn’t stop you.”

Throttle grinned. “I owe you.”

“Just hurry the fuck up and claim her. She’s been in a pissed-off mood for over a week, and some of the other guys are fearing for their lives. She’s pretty mean with a wrench.” He chuckled.

Throttle stiffened. “No, dude, you got it all wrong. I just had a question I had to ask her. That’s it. I’m not planning to claim any chick. You know me. I love my freedom and easy pussy too much. No way do I want a woman telling me what I can do and where I can go. Damn, that’s not my style.” He motioned the prospect, Johnnie, for a shot of whiskey.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself that you’re not interested in her?”

“You’re starting to piss me off. I didn’t call to hear all this shit about making a woman mine. No fuckin’ way. I’m not interested. It’s that plain and simple.”

“Yeah, right. I gotcha. Have a good talk with the woman you’re not interested in. Later.”

Throttle heard Hawk laughing when he clicked off his phone and felt his body temperature rising. Couldn’t he just call and talk with a woman without all this talk about
claiming
her? Hell, he’d screwed so many women, and he hadn’t
claimed
any of them. Why was Hawk making a big deal about this?
I should just forget about calling her and take up with one of the club girls.
Frowning, he threw back the shot, jerked to his feet, and made his way to Hawk’s office.

In his room, resting against the headboard, he dialed Kimber’s phone number. The comments Hawk made still sizzled inside him. The rush of the Colorado River that ran behind the clubhouse sifted through his open window. She picked up on the fourth ring, and the mellow tone of her voice covered him like warm honey.

“How are you?” he asked. The way she sucked in her breath made him smile.

“How’d you get my number?”

“Nothing’s secret anymore with the Internet. What’ve you been up to?”

“Not much. Work and school.”

“Sounds dull.”

“Not really.”

A strained pause spread between them.

“You want to go out to dinner tomorrow night?”

She exhaled loudly. “Not really. I know where it’ll lead, and I don’t want it.”

“Fuck, baby. You must think I’m a horny dog who can’t control myself. Or are you afraid you can’t control
yourself
?” He poured a shot of whiskey in his glass while he waited for her to answer.

After a long pause, she said, “You flatter yourself too much, but then all men with big egos do. Believe me, I can control myself just fine. Even if you were the last man standing, I’d be able to control myself.”

“Then going out to dinner with me should be no problem.”

“I’m not sure you’ll behave.”

He chuckled. “I’ll behave just fine. No worries. It’ll give us a chance to talk and find out some stuff, like how in the hell you ended up in a bike repair shop. I really want to know. I’ve been wondering about it since I first saw you working on Banger’s bike.”

“You could have fooled me. You were so pissed that day, I didn’t figure you’d ever want to talk to me, let alone know anything about me.”

“It just took me by surprise. I never ran into a chick who fixed bikes. You intrigued me, and you still do.” He heard her breathing over the phone and he pictured her sitting on the couch, the TV on mute, debating with herself. “It’s just fuckin’ dinner. We both gotta eat. We’ll be in a public place.”

“All right,” she said hesitantly. “I’ll go, but if you try anything I’m going to smack you hard, and I won’t care if we’re in public. Got it?”

“Sure.”

“I mean nothing. Nada. Not grabbing my hand. Not rubbing against me. Not even a kiss on the cheek. Nothing. Okay?”

“Yeah, I get it.” A half-smile danced on his lips. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“I’ll meet you at the restaurant.”

“Meet me? No fuckin’ way.”

“Then it’s off. That’s the deal.”

“Babe, do you think you’ll ever agree with me on anything?”

“Probably not. So I’ll meet you and if you don’t like it, we don’t have to go to dinner. No big deal.” She yawned.

He forced a laugh. “Let’s meet at Big Rocky’s Barbecue at seven tomorrow night. Do you know where it is?”

“I’ll find it. See you tomorrow night.”

When he ended the call, he placed his head against the wall; a wave of anticipation washed over him, and he felt better than he had in days. Replaying their conversation, he had to smile. She was by far the most stubborn, aggravating, and aggressive woman he’d ever known, and he was fuckin’ crazy about her. How in the hell was he going to be able to keep his hands to himself all night? He’d have to be extra good, but if she wore her rose-patchouli perfume, there was no way he could keep away from her.

He smiled devilishly, finished his whiskey, stretched out on the bed, and switched off the lamp. Throttle would sleep well tonight—he was back in with his spirited woman.

*     *     *

Throughout dinner, they
talked about losing their parents, living in small towns, and of course, about Harleys. He was impressed on how much she knew about motorcycles; if it weren’t for her seductive scent and hip-hugging dress, he’d have sworn he was talking with one of his brothers.

As they laughed and talked, occasionally her knee would casually bump against his, or her hand would briefly brush his, and her touch would magnetize him. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to act like being out with her was no big deal.

“Have you seen Cowboy lately?” His muscles tensed in anticipation of her response.

“You mean Riley? No.” He relaxed, a slow smile forming on his lips. “I just went out with him a couple times. There was nothing there.”

“He didn’t seem like your type.”

She looked at him, and the smoldering flame he saw in her eyes made his dick twitch. “He didn’t stand a chance. All I did was compare him to you.”

“And, of course, there wasn’t any comparison, was there, babe?” He held her gaze, an unspoken connection forging between them.

She shook her head, and her blue eyes looked as wild as the ocean during a storm. “None at all.” Then she leaned over and kissed him hard.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned as he pulled her closer to him, his tongue pushing against the seam of her lips, demanding to delve into her mouth. Then she pulled back and took a sip of wine. He tugged her back to him, but she resisted. “What’s up, baby? You teasing me?”

“Maybe.” She licked her lips.

“Watch it. You’re playing a dangerous game that’s gonna get you fucked.”

She laughed and he wanted to cover her mouth and swallow all sound from her. Everything about her that evening sent him into overdrive; she was driving him crazy with her scent, her eyes, her laugh, and her damn lips on his. She knew the effect she had on him, and she loved seeing him pant and stare just like a fucking novice. And he fucking
loved
it.

“Would you like anything else?” the waiter asked, breaking the crackling sexual tension between them.

Sitting back in his chair, Throttle took out his wallet. “No.” He handed a hundred-dollar bill to the server. When the young man left, Throttle finished his beer and turned to Kimber. “Let’s go listen to some music.” He wanted to have her in his arms, her firm body pressed so close to him it’d be like they were fused together.

“I have to be at work early.”

“I’ll tell Hawk to excuse your tardiness.” He slid his finger lightly up her arm, loving the way her skin pebbled under his touch.

“I really can’t, but I’d love to go to Red Spot Creamery for ice cream. Have you ever been there?” He shook his head. “Oh man, it’s the best ice cream ever.” Her sparkling eyes made him laugh. “No, really, I’m not joking. Hands down, the best I’ve ever tasted.”

“Then we better go so I can try it out. What’s your favorite flavor?”

“They have so many and they’re all homemade. I love their toffee ice cream, but for the summertime they have this awesome orange ice cream with fudge ripples. It’s to die for. But then I love their pistachio with chocolate chunks. They’re all so good.”