Throttle's Seduction: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 7) (4 page)

She didn’t think either Chyna or her boyfriend, Delacoma, worked since they were always home, drinking on the front porch, the back patio, in lawn chairs—anywhere they could find a place to plop their butts down. Lenora from across the street told her they were on disability and supplemented their income with garage sales, but Kimber didn’t want to be a part of the gossip group in the neighborhood. As long as people left her the hell alone, she didn’t give a shit what they did.

She turned her swamp cooler on, and a damp smack of cool air covered her. She made her way to the bathroom for a quick cold shower. After thirty minutes, she was cooled down, lounging on the couch while munching on a large salad filled with nuts, feta cheese, pineapple, and sunflower seeds, and sipping a cold bottle of Coors. Grabbing the remote, she switched on the TV.

During her show, an ad for a motorcycle accident attorney came on, and her mind drifted to Throttle. When she’d first looked at him, she’d been surprised by how good-looking he was, with his long brown hair and big dark eyes that could make a woman lose her senses. He was tall, ripped, and the tats on his arms intrigued her; they were sexy, especially the ones curling around his sculpted biceps. And his strong jaw and straight nose made his rugged good looks seem more refined. The three earrings in his right ear and the dangling silver chain in his left made her stomach tighten. Too bad he’d opened his mouth. If he weren’t so insufferable, she could imagine riding on the back of his Harley.

Wait! What the fuck are you thinking, Kimber? He’s a nice-looking jerk. They’re a dime a dozen. And he’s an outlaw biker. No fuckin’ way!
She’d bet he had a woman in his bed all the time. She could definitely guarantee that he wouldn’t be faithful to any woman. He was just like her ex. Chewy saw women as playthings, as commodities. She shook her head.
These fuckin’ bikers are all alike
. The only reason she was even thinking of Throttle was because she’d been going through a dry spell for the last six months. She didn’t want to do anything stupid because of her hormones. Then she remembered cowboy man. She’d give Riley a chance. She hoped he was tall and ripped with sexy tats on his arms. Long brown hair would be good too.
Stop it, Kimber! The biker’s a douche.

She placed her empty bowl on the table and drained her beer bottle. Settling back, she sighed and hoped Riley was at least tall and had one skull tattoo. Turning up the volume, she watched zombies stalk survivors on the screen.

T
he following morning,
Throttle entered Hawk’s shop and went straight to his buddy’s office. Without knocking, he went inside and plopped into one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. Hawk waved to him as he continued his conversation on the phone, and Throttle glanced around his friend’s workplace as he waited.

“Hey,” Hawk said as he put his phone down.

“Did you hire a fuckin’ chick to work on the bikes?”

Hawk chuckled. “Dwayne told me you were upset about Kimber working here.”

“So you did? What the fuck, brother?”

“She’s a damn good mechanic. Bruce called me and asked if I needed some help in the shop. You know summer’s the high season for me. I told him I did, and he said that Kimber had been working for him for over two years and was a kickass mechanic. She learned all that shit from her dad when she was growing up. I said I’d give her a try, and she’s one of my best.”

“A fuckin’ chick?”

Hawk laughed. “Yeah. Fuck, I’m just as surprised as you are.”

“There’s no way you woulda even thought about hiring a bitch to fix bikes a couple years ago. Cara’s got you pussy-whipped.” Throttle pushed back roughly in his chair.

Hawk’s jaw clenched. “Cara’s got nothing to do with this. I run the fuckin’ shop and decide who I’m gonna hire. Why the fuck do you care, anyway? She’s not working on your bike.”

“And she better never get near it. If I bring my bike here, I don’t want a goddamned woman fucking with it.” He scowled, the heat rising to his temples.

“Noted. How’s the planning going for Sturgis?”

“It’s going,” he mumbled. Being the Road Captain, Throttle was in charge of planning all the road trips and rallies. He’d recently taken over the position from Bruiser, who was much older than him and had to slow down according to his doctor’s orders. Throttle loved the extra perk of having the patch “Road Captain” on his leather jacket. It made getting prime pussy even easier.

“You wanna inventory some items that came in? I could use the help.”

Throttle nodded slowly. “I can do that.” He stretched out his legs. “Is that chick around?”

“Kimber? She’ll be in at one. She takes some business classes at the community college. That’s the reason she moved here from Silver Ridge. She told me she wants to open her own shop someday.”

Throttle snorted. “Who the fuck would go to a bike repair shop owned by a chick?”

“You never know.” Hawk pointed to a stack of boxes piled against the wall. “You wanna get started? I’m so fuckin’ busy right now.”

“And she’s got a real mouth on her. If she didn’t work for you, I would’ve put her in her place yesterday. Doesn’t she know who the Insurgents are?”

Hawk stared at him. “Has she tweaked your dick?”

Throttle leapt up, his eyes flashing. “Fuck no!”

Throwing his hands up, Hawk smirked. “Damn, you’re overreacting, dude. You’ve been talking about Kimber since you came into my office.”

“Bullshit. I’m not interested in a chick who wants to be like a fuckin’ man. You’ve insulted me. You know my type—big tits, fleshy ass, and total air brain. This”—he waved his hand in the air—“whatever her name is, hardly has any tits. And her hair is pink and black like some fucked-up zebra. There’s no way she’s done anything to my cock except make it shrivel. She’s so not my type.” He crossed his arms, his chest heaving.

“You finished? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you worked up over any woman like this before,” Hawk teased.

“I don’t like chicks who don’t know their place. And you can act all high and mighty, but I know that before Cara grabbed your dick, you’d never consider hiring a fuckin’ female mechanic.”

Hawk stood up. “You’re probably right on that. I guess since I’ve been with Cara, I’ve realized that it doesn’t matter if a man or a woman does the job as long as it’s done well. We hang out with her friends who are doctors, lawyers, and accountants. She has a good friend who’s a welder. That shit doesn’t bother me anymore.”

“Like I said, pussy-whipped,” he muttered under his breath.

“You wanna get started on the boxes or do you wanna keep ranting about my employee?”

“Give me a fuckin’ box,” he growled.

After two hours of unwrapping and categorizing motorcycle accessories, Throttle stretched his arms high above his head. “You wanna grab some lunch?” he asked Hawk.

“Patrick can get us some sandwiches. Let’s put this inventory on the shelves.”

The two of them each carried a few boxes into the shop and began placing the items on the stainless steel shelves. Hawk gave Patrick money to run over to Fleischmann’s Deli to pick up a couple pastrami sandwiches.

“The hood ornaments Jerry makes are wicked. They just fly outta the shop.”

Throttle grabbed a grinning skull with iridescent eyes and stuffed it in his pocket. “I’ve been trying to get one of these since I first saw them in Jerry’s online store, but they’re always sold out. I’ll pay you when we’re done stocking.”

“It’s yours for helping me out. It’s a good thing you got it ‘cause that’s my number one seller.”

A gush of hot air breathed over Throttle before he smelled the aroma of pastrami. Placing the last skull ornament on the shelf, he walked over to the mini fridge under the counter and took out a beer. “Want one?” he asked Hawk.

“Yeah. Toss me a Coors.”

The two bikers spread out their sandwiches on the counter and munched away, talking about Harleys. As Throttle swallowed his last bite, a sultry, dark scent of rose-patchouli curled around him, and he imagined the wearer was a sexy, stacked brunette with lacquer-red lips. His dick twitched as the aroma wrapped tighter around him. He turned in its direction, his pulse racing from the anticipation of seeing the lovely creature who was inadvertently enticing him. His panty-melting smile dissolved into a scowl when Kimber came into view.

“You’re back,” she stated.

His eyes narrowed as she passed by him, a large tote bag slung over her shoulders. “Hiya, Hawk. Sorry I’m late. My class ran over.”

“That’s cool. How much longer you got on Banger’s bike?”

“It’ll be done in an hour.” She jerked her head at Throttle. “Is he taking it to Banger?”

Hawk glanced at Throttle, who turned his back on both him and Kimber, busying himself with crinkling the wax paper the sandwiches came in.

“Guess not,” Hawk said with a chuckle. “I’ll call Banger and let him know.”

“Sounds good. I’ll just change and get on it right away.” Kimber went behind the counter, her body brushing against Throttle. “Sorry,” she quipped as she bent down and took out a bottled water and a Sprite.

Throttle grunted while casting sidelong glances at her. When she stood back up, her body pushed lightly against him, and he cursed as his jeans tightened. He had no idea why in the hell his dick was acting like that with
her
. With a quick turn of his head, her gaze caught his, and he sucked in his breath; he’d never seen such beautiful eyes before. They were blue like the sky right before the sun disappeared—a dark rich indigo with specks of dark blue and white shimmering in the main part of the iris. They were fringed by very long soot-black lashes, and arched over by exquisitely tweezed dark eyebrows. She shot him a half-smile and walked away, her firm ass encased in tight-as-hell jeans. The metal door clanged shut behind her.

He stared for a long moment at the closed door, pissed that his dick wanted some action with this female mechanic. Damn, he should’ve joined Rock the previous night with the two horny chicks; then his cock wouldn’t spring up at the mere sight of a woman.

Shaking his head, he came out from behind the counter. “If you don’t need any more help, I’m gonna take off.” He had to get out of the shop; he hated the urge he had to seek her out.

“I’m good. Thanks for your help, dude. You working later?”

“Not today. I’m gonna find Rosie and have her wrap her full lips around my cock. After that, it’s a cold beer and a few joints.”

“Sounds fun.” Hawk smiled.

“Fuckin’ right. You gonna come by the club for a beer and a game of pool?”

“Yeah. If Banger wants me to ride his bike over, I’ll be by in a couple hours.”

“Cool. I can give you a lift back in my truck.”

“Or I can call Cara.”

“No reason for that. I can bring you back to the shop. You planning on coming back before closing?”

Hawk threw him a quizzical look. “Probably. Why?”

“Just wanted to know so I can plan my evening. I’m going by Jerry’s later and didn’t want to make two trips.” From the way Hawk lifted his eyebrows, Throttle knew he wasn’t buying that shit. He knew the biker wanted to come back to the shop to grab another glimpse of the black-haired woman.

Fuck. I’m never gonna pass on screwing two willing chicks again—it makes me want to do crazy shit with a woman I can’t stand. I gotta get Rosie to cool my fire. Like now.

“On second thought, give Cara a call. I gotta check out the equipment for a job tomorrow.” Throttle and Rags had owned Rain or Shine Landscaping for the past three years. They hired contract workers to help on bigger jobs, but mostly it was the two of them. Throttle loved being outdoors, loved the smell and feel of dirt, and after transforming an overgrown garden or a dry patch into something alive and luxurious, he’d get a real buzz from it. He and Rags worked real well together, and it supplemented the income they received from the club’s numerous businesses and dispensaries.

“What kind of a job do you have to do?”

“We gotta clear out a bunch of dead trees and shit, then plant twenty-four trees at a mansion in Glenmore. It’s gonna be a long, hot day.”

“Are just you and Rags doing the job?”

“Nope. I hired some extras to help.”

The metal door swung open and the smell of oil seeped into the shop, mixed with rose and patchouli. Throttle stiffened.

“Hawk, can you come and check something out for me? I’m pretty sure I got it right, but I want you to look it over.”

The shop’s phone rang and Hawk leaned over to pick it up. “Give me a minute.”

Pretending to be engrossed in a motorcycle catalog on the counter, Throttle glanced at Kimber from the corner of his eye, and caught her checking him out. Turning his head to her, he chuckled when she darted her gaze away. “Baby, if you like what you’re seeing, you don’t have to look away.”

Facing him, her arms crossed over her chest, her face scrunched and red, she tapped her booted foot on the vinyl floor. “Not only are you full of shit, but you’re full of yourself too. Oh wait, that’s the same thing.” She tossed her hair over her shoulders and muttered under her breath, “You wish, jerk.”

Throttle jumped in front of her, causing her to slam into his chest. Startled, she glanced up, straight into his eyes which were darkened by anger. “Watch your goddamned mouth. Someone needs to teach you respect, woman.”

“And you’re gonna be the one to do it? Hah!” She tried to get around him but he blocked her. “Let me pass.” She jutted her chin out defiantly.

“Not until you apologize,” he gritted through his teeth.

“For telling you the truth? I don’t think so.”

A low growl came from deep in his chest. He reached out to grab her arm when Hawk shoved himself between them. “Both of you cool the fuck down.” He turned to Kimber. “I heard what you said, and I don’t like you disrespecting one of the brothers in my shop.” She started to protest but Hawk held up his hand, silencing her. Turning to a smug-looking Throttle, Hawk said softly, “Why don’t you leave this alone, okay? I’ll see you at the clubhouse when I bring Banger’s bike.”

Throttle breathed heavily for a few seconds, then clasped Hawk’s shoulder. “See you.” Without acknowledging Kimber, he stomped out of the shop, slamming the door behind him so hard the glass vibrated. His Harley roared to life, and he sped away from the shop and the infuriating woman with the loud, smartass mouth.