Throttle Me (Men of Inked) (Volume 1) Read online

  This book is dedicated to my family,

  friends, and readers.

  Thank you for the amazing support

  you’ve shown me.

  I cherish each and every one of you.

  Throttle Me Copyright © 2014 Chelle Bliss

  Published by Chelle Bliss

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published: Chelle Bliss March 30th 2014: [email protected]

  First Edition Copyright © 30th March 2014

  Editor: Tee Tate

  Cover Design © Melissa Gill at MG BookCovers & Designs

  Formatting by: Brenda Wright

  Chapter Headers: http://www.bigstockphoto.com

  Cover Model Photographer: Pawel Sierakowski

  This book is intended for a mature audience only.

  The Darkness

  The moonlight filtered through the pine trees lining the fields, leaving shadows on the pavement. The crisp air that had been missing for months caressed my skin. Cranking up the radio, I sang along to the lyrics from Justin Timberlake’s ”Rock Your Body”. It was just the cool breeze, JT, and me. I couldn’t wait to crawl in my bed, close my eyes, getting lost in a dream world that had nothing to do with my current reality.

  The night had been perfect. I had dinner and drinks with my best friend, Sophia, and although I was exhausted from a long workday I felt a sense of serenity. Spending time with Sophia always made me happy. She was like a sister to me, especially when she lived with me for over a year. I felt like part of me had been missing since the day she moved out, leaving me behind.

  Dancing in the seat, screaming out the lyrics, I thought about how I wanted someone that would do everything the song described. No one had ever made me feel the way that JT sang about women. The steering wheel shook in my hands and a screeching sound pulled me out of my JT trance.

  “Damn it,” I said, hitting the steering wheel with my palm.

  The orange flash from my hazards blinked against the dark pavement as I pulled off the road and my car sputtered to a stop. Bad luck seemed to follow me. I squeezed the steering wheel, trying to calm my frazzled nerves. I knew the day would come, the day my car would die, but I prayed it would happen after my next paycheck… no such luck.

  Resting my head on the wheel, I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Great, just fucking great.” I rocked back and forth, feeling sorry for myself, hitting my head on the cool plastic. I thought about who to call or where to walk. I hadn’t passed a gas station or even a damn streetlight in miles. Without picking up my head I reached for my phone, bringing it to my eyes.

  “Shit.” The screen wouldn’t power on after I hit every button I could think to press, but it was useless. It was dead and now I’m totally stranded. What else could possibly go wrong? Sighing, I sat up and glanced in the rearview mirror but only the shadows from the trees filled my view. No cars, neon signs, or streetlights. Fuck.

  I placed my hand on my chest to feel the beat of my heart, which was so hard I swear it was audible. Visions from slasher movies flooded my mind. Girl’s deserted on the side of the road until she’s found by a handsome stranger that ends up being a serial killer.

  Should I start walking to God knows where? Do I just sit here and wait for a stranger to offer me help? I never liked feeling helpless, I was too smart to be helpless, but it was the only thing I felt in this moment. It could be hours before someone found me in my car.

  I grabbed my purse, dead phone, and keys and climbed out of the car. My feet ached in the extra high heels I wore. Leaning against the car, I gave my feet a moment to adjust, as I looked in both directions. Neither of my options close and I was exhausted. My feet fucking screamed from standing still. Thank God I could sleep in tomorrow after the way this evening was ending. There was a gas station a couple miles back – better to go with what I know than to walk into an uncertain future. I tapped the lock button on my key chain one more time, helping relieve my OCD need to double check everything, before I starting walking away.

  Barely clearing the trunk, a single light came over a small hill in the distance, hurting my eyes from the brightness. The roar of the engine grew louder as the distance closed. I waved my arms as a figure came into view, but the asshole biker drove right passed me as I screamed, “Hey! Hey!” The wind from his bike caused the dust on the road to kick up and fill my mouth.

  I turned around, coughing, and screamed toward the bike. I knew it was pointless. There was no way in hell he’d heard me yelling above the roar of his bike, but he had to see me. The red taillight lit up the road as he turned the bike in my direction. I swallowed hard, unsure if this was my best idea of the night – I’d already made too many mistakes to dwell. He was my only hope of getting home.

  I stood there like a deer in headlights, unable to move as I gaped at him. My hands tremble as the figure on the bike came to a stop. The engine was almost deafening, as I took in the sight of him on the machine. The bike was a Harley, a Fat Boy, with no windshield, chrome handlebars, and a dark body. He wore black boots, dark jeans, and a dark t-shirt. He was large, muscular, and I sucked in a breath as my eyes reached his handsome and rugged face. A playful grin danced on his lips as he watched me ogle him. Fucking hell.

  “Need some help, lady?” he asked, removing his helmet, running his fingers through his disheveled hair. The dark peaks stood up on the top, the sides were short and clipped, and the color matched the sky - dark. I couldn’t see his eyes; a pair of tinted glasses hid them. Could serial killers be so sexy?

  “Um, do you have a cell phone I could use to call for a ride?” I asked without taking a step in his direction. Don’t get too close – leave room to run. Who the fuck was I kidding? I couldn’t make it five feet in these damn shoes.

  “Sure.” As he leaned back on his bike, I studied his body as he dug in his pocket. The skin-tight jeans showed his muscles through the denim fabric. Everything clung to him. I wanted to poke him to see if he felt as hard as he looked. What the fuck is wrong with me?

  I was too busy staring to notice that he was holding out for me. “Lady, you wanted my phone?”

  Snapping back to reality with the sound of his deep voice, I took a step toward him, reaching for the phone. “Oh, sorry.”

  My fingertips grazed his palm, a tiny shock passed between us. His fingers closed on my hand as I pulled away. My heartbeat that calmed, now began to pound feverishly in my chest. It had to be my hormones. I hadn’t had sex in God knows how long – I stopped counting after three months. The man in front of me wasn’t my type, but that didn’t stop his sex appeal from being lost on me. He looked like a whole lot of trouble that I didn’t need that in my life.

  I stepped back, keeping my eyes trained on him, as I dialed the only person close enough to help - Sophia. The phone rang and his eyes trav
eled up and down the length of my body – with each ring, my stomach began to turn. I didn’t have anyone else to call.

  Tapping the end button I sighed. “There’s no answer. Thanks.” I gave him a sheepish smile as I handed him the phone.

  “Let me take a look and see if there’s anything I can do. Okay?” he asked, as he began angling the bike to shine the headlights on the hood.

  “Sure.” I hit the unlock button on my car key before climbing in. I put the key in the ignition, but stayed aware of his proximity. No one will hear me scream if he tries to kill me. I couldn’t let my guard down.

  He put the kickstand down, climbed off the bike, and placed the helmet on the seat. Pulling the hood latch next to my seat I watched him from the relative darkness of my car, my face hidden by shadows. He was large, larger than he looked sitting on the Harley. He had to be more than a foot taller than me and looked more solid with the bike illuminating his body. I stared at him, mouth open slightly, my breathing shallow as I looked at him like a piece of meat through the gap between the hood. He oozed masculinity and ruggedness and I tried to picture him without all the skintight clothes. The muscles in his arm rippled as he touched the parts under the hood.

  What would it be like to be with a man like him? Every man I’d dated just didn’t work out. They were nice guys, but the spark I wanted was always missing. People think I’m a good girl, and I am, but my mind is filled with dirty thoughts that I could never share with a mate. I’ve shared them with Sophia, but she doesn’t count. No one had ever done anything fantasy-worthy with me. I can barely speak the words that are needed to describe the things I want done to me, or that I’d want to do to another person in this world.

  “Ma’am,” he said, snapping me out of the evaluation of my sex life, or lack thereof.

  “Sorry, yes?”

  “Can you try and start it for me, please?” he said, leaning over the hood, his hands placed on either side of the opening. “Now,” he said. The car churned and churned. “Stop.” I heard him yell over the screeching noise. He moved methodically throughout the engine of the car. “Try it again.” I turned the key causing the engine to rattle, but not start.

  He stood, rubbing the back of his neck as curses spilled from his lips. The only thing I could see was his crotch. I stared motionless. His t-shirt covered the belt loops and stopped just above his groin. Damn. He fills out those jeans. He has to be big. Everything about him is big – he couldn’t, just couldn’t, have a small cock, could he?

  The last guy that I’d slept with was more the size of a party pickle. It was the most unsatisfying sexual experience of my life. He was a teacher and I wanted someone who was educated and self-sufficient, but he was boring in and out of the bedroom. I thought I’d found that with Derek, Mr. Pickle, but I was wrong. He was a wreck and filled with more mental issues than anyone I’d ever know. He was germ-a-phobic, which was problematic when having sex. He’d jump right out of bed immediately after sex to shower and wash the dirty off. I sighed to myself remembering his need to be clean, never mind that he was an asshole too.

  The hood of my car made a loud thump as he slammed it. “Your car is a little tricky. Foreign cars can be complicated. I can’t seem to get it to start,” he said walking toward the driver side door.

  “It’s okay. Thanks for trying.” I climbed out not wanting to be trapped inside. What the hell am I going to do now?

  “I was heading to the bar up the road. Want to join me?” He smiled and tilted his head as he studied me. “You can call a tow truck from there. It may take them a while for them to get out here.”

  I couldn’t think of any other option. He was my only hope, my saving grace from the dark roadside and a means to an end. There are worse things than climbing on the back of his motorcycle and wrapping my arms around him. “Okay, but I’ve never been on a bike.”

  “Never? How is that even possible?” he asked, shaking his head, a small laugh escaping his lips. His teeth sparkled in the light, straight and white. His jaw was strong, his cheekbones jutted out more when he smiled, and a small dimple formed on the left side of his face.

  I looked down at the ground, my cheeks heated. “I don’t know. I just never knew anyone that had one and I find them totally scary.”

  “It’s not far from here and there isn’t much traffic. I’ll keep you safe,” he said, holding out his helmet.

  My stomach fluttered as I closed the car door and thought about my first motorcycle ride. The black round helmet felt cool against my fingers as I took it from him. I scrunched my eyebrows together as I studied it. I didn’t know if there was a front or a back, or how to put it on.

  “Here, let me help you,” he said as he reached for the helmet, removing it from my grip. His hand touched mine and I felt the spark again. Not a real spark, but electricity that I felt with every fiber of my being from the slightest touch. My body wanted his touch but my mind was throwing up the caution flag.

  Placing it gently on my head, he ran his rough fingers down the straps, almost caressing my skin, to adjust it to fit my face. I inhaled deeply trying to fill all my senses with him, he smelled different than any other man I’d smelled. He didn’t smell of cheap cologne but there was a spicy woodsy scent that reminded me of home. I closed my eyes, and relished the feel of his warm skin against mine.

  “All done. Are you ready?” he asked.

  I opened my eyes, heat creeping up my neck as I had been lost in his touch. “Yes.” I prayed my voice didn’t betray me.

  He climbed on the bike, sliding forward, making room for me. “Lift your leg and climb on.”

  Placing my hand on his shoulder to help balance myself, I followed his instructions, my body slid forward, smashing against him. Rock solid. He turned his head, looking me in the eyes. “Put your feet on the pegs and wrap your arms around me. I don’t bite, well, unless you want me to.” He smirked and my heart felt like it was doing the tango in my chest as I pressed against his back. He didn’t just say that to me, did he? I lifted my feet off the ground, turning over complete control to the stranger I was entrusting with my life. I locked my hands together completely wrapped around him.

  “Ready?”

  “Wait! I don’t even know your name. I mean I’m putting my life in your hands and I don’t even know who you are.” I gripped his body tighter, clinging to him.

  I couldn’t hear his laughter, but I felt the rumble of it from deep in his chest. “My friends call me City, sugar.” He throttled the engine and my heart skipped a beat. Fear gripped me – there’s no turning back now.

  My grip became vice-like, fear overcoming any need to be cool or seem calm in front of him. He patted my hands before the bike began to move and I couldn’t bear to look. I buried my face in his back, avoiding any chance of seeing the road. The wind caressed my skin, causing it to feel like ice compared to the warmth my palms experienced. Does this man have any soft spots? I flexed my fingers against his chest wanting to feel his hardness, praying like hell I made it seem natural and not like I was molesting him.

  The bike picked up speed and my heart thundered against his back. Gripping him harder, holding on for dear life, the sound of the engine drowned out everything else around me, except the two of us. He leaned into the bike, his ass moving snuggly between my legs. I didn’t dare move. He was warm, comfortable, and I enjoyed every minute my body touched his. I closed my eyes, trying to not think about the movement of the bike underneath us – the slight shift and unevenness of the road made me feel off balance.

  The noise of the engine changed and I finally peaked over his shoulder. The parking lot of The Neon Cowboy was packed with bikes and was the brightest thing for miles. I’d driven by it dozens of times, but never thought about stopping. This wasn’t the type of bar for kids on speedy foreign-made bikes, but a place that tough bikers hang out, drink beer, and pick up chicks.

  City backed the bike into an empty spot and I could feel my body begin to tremble from the fear that finally began
to seep through my veins. I did it. I rode on a motorcycle and with a stranger, no less. My breath was harsh and as I blinked slowly and tried to calm myself down.

  “You can climb off now, sugar.” His legs were straddling the bike and he held the handlebars, securing the bike for me. “Enjoy your first ride?”

  I released my hands from the security of his body and hoisted myself off on trembling legs. “It was the single most terrifying thing I’ve ever experienced,” I said, thankful when my feet were firmly on the ground. I stood, trying to get my body to stop shaking and my heart to slow down before walking inside the bar with him at my side.

  “If that’s the scariest thing you’ve ever experienced, you need to get out more, sugar. I took it slow with you.” He grinned and my stomach plummeted from his sinful smile. I wanted to see him above me naked and moving in and out of my body slowly almost at a torturous pace. Everything about him made my body convulse and scream for attention. He wasn’t my type. I preferred a book worm and a man that liked to spend an evening inside watching a movie or playing Scrabble, not riding like a bat out of hell on a Fat Boy to hang out at a bar. I wasn’t a bar fly and never would be.

  The outdoor lights gave me a full view of the man that called himself City. His hair was darker than I originally thought, almost jet-black, and an inch long on the top, brushing against his forehead as he shook it out. It was a mess from the wind with the front hanging over his forehead. I couldn’t tell the color of his eyes, they were still hidden behind the tinted lenses of his glasses.

  “Yeah, lucky me,” I chuckled and tried to play it cool even though my body shook. If that was slow I didn’t think I wanted to know what his idea of fast and hard were, or did I? Fuck me. He had my brain all jumbled.

  Removing the helmet, I ran my fingers through my hair trying to straighten it after the wild ride. He laughed as he crawled off the bike, taking the helmet from my hands, and placed it on the seat. I watched mesmerized as he removed his glasses and put them inside a small bag hanging from the side of the bike. I wanted to see his eyes and the entire man without a mask or veil.