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Danger Zone (The Elite Book 1)

Page 10

by Brooke Blaine


  “You think I’m mad because you pulled a shady-ass move to win? I don’t need to cheat to win—”

  I ground my molars together and pushed him back. “I’m not a fucking cheater—”

  “Gentlemen, knock it off and get to debriefing.” Commander Levy’s voice over the hangar’s intercom echoed around the base, and I looked up to see the entire training class staring down at us from the viewing area.

  Panther’s eyes were narrowed as he looked at me with unveiled contempt, and then he slowly backed away, shaking his head. He turned on his heel and headed to the bay to change, but I took my time going that way, giving myself a minute to cool off. When a minute didn’t do it, I said to hell with it and joined him in the bay, but this time he didn’t say a word, didn’t even look my way.

  The tension was palpable, and so was his anger by the way he slammed shit around, and it only got worse as we sat through debriefing with the rest of the trainees, all of them looking between us like they expected a fight to break out at any moment.

  But I didn’t want to put my fist in his face. I just wanted to put him in his place, and beneath me seemed like a good spot.

  After getting admonished by the instructors in a more civilized way than Panther had gone at me—though I’d technically done nothing wrong or illegal—we were dismissed, and Panther tore out of there like hell on wheels.

  I found myself following him, because apparently my weakness had become a pissed-off Panther. All that passion aimed at me was like an electrical jolt to my cock, and I couldn’t let him get away that easily.

  Stepping in front of his bike as he kicked on the engine, I placed my hands beside his on the handlebars and shouted over the roar, “You still mad? How about a rematch?”

  Panther flipped up the visor on his helmet. “Move.”

  “I’m serious. Put your money where your mouth is.”

  “Grow up, Solo.”

  “Oh. You’re scared.” I pushed off his bike and backed away. “I get it. No worries, then.”

  As I turned to walk away, I gave it about three beats, and then I heard Panther say, “All right. You’re on.”

  24 Panther

  IF SOLO WANTED a go at me, he could fucking have it.

  I was over the narcissistic asshole tackling whoever he wanted to get to the top, no matter what the cost. This shit wasn’t going to fly with me. Not anymore.

  “Third and Sunset,” I yelled out to Solo over the purr of our engines, and then I took off out of the base, my adrenaline pumping even more than it had during the hop. It was mixed with anger and frustration now, making it a deadly combination that Solo wasn’t ready for.

  He wanted a race with no rules to ignore? He’d fucking get one.

  I rolled up to the intersection of Third and Sunset, practically deserted at this time of day, and didn’t have to wait long for Solo to pull in beside me. As he looked over at me, he revved the engine, causing me to grit my teeth. I flipped up the visor and pointed out in the distance some twenty miles away. “The end point is Black Rock Cliffs. You know it?”

  Solo nodded.

  “On green,” I said, pointing to the traffic light, and snapped my visor back down and got ready to fly. The heavy thud of my heartbeat was like a countdown…four…three…two…one.

  The light flipped to green and we were off.

  Gunning it through the streets of Mesamir, my vision may have been red, but my focus was clear. Solo wasn’t winning this time. I’d hand him his ass on a platter and relish every second of it. First, though? He could choke on my dust.

  I raced ahead, swerving into his lane and cutting him off, an asshole move right up his alley. In my mirrors, I could see him move to the left, and I followed, blocking him yet again. Then to the right he went, but a car in the lane beside us forced him back behind me, and I grinned.

  Was it the smartest thing in the world to race in broad daylight where we could get caught? Hell no. But I didn’t plan to get caught, and as we outpaced the car beside us, it was clear Solo gave no fucks either.

  It was like the guy got off on the danger, like giving the finger to anyone of authority made him high. Invincible. I couldn’t fathom how anyone went through life without a moral code to keep them in check, but this guy… This guy was too much, and his ego needed to be brought back down to earth.

  Up ahead, the road turned into a series of sharp curves, one side rocky cliffs and the other nothing but open air, the road overlooking the ocean below. As I rounded the first section, my bike so low to the ground I almost grazed the asphalt, I maintained the speed, not giving an inch. Solo had kept pace with me so far, and I needed to get a wider lead.

  I flew around the second curve with ease, but as I rose back up, Solo was there, sneaking into the inside of the lane, and as a car came barreling by in the opposite lane, I had to break position and whip in behind him.

  Shit. He was ruthless, on the ground, in the sky… It didn’t seem to matter much to Solo where he was. If there was something to win, he’d win it. If there were rules to break, he’d break ’em.

  That just made me want to punch the shit out of him.

  As the other lane cleared out for the moment, I took the opportunity to move into it, pushing the engine as hard as I dared so that I came up alongside him. It was neck and neck as we took the turns, but I needed to get the hell out of this lane before another car—

  Shit.

  I had to swerve into Solo’s lane, almost knocking into him as a truck blew its horn as it passed by. My heart was jackhammering at the close call, but I wasn’t letting Solo take this race. Not today.

  Solo looked at me as the road straightened out, and it was a good thing our helmets muffled any words, because I could only imagine the curses Solo was throwing my way after almost ramming him into the rock wall.

  We were halfway to the finish line, and I needed to kick things up a notch. Problem was, coming down out of the hills meant having to deal with the beach traffic on the other side of Mesamir.

  There would be no slowing down, at least not for me, which meant throwing my cautious-by-nature side to the wind. Gaining ground, I sped ahead of Solo, weaving smoothly between cars already going over the speed limit. The red lights were few and far between on this stretch, thank God, because even channeling some of Solo’s devil-may-care attitude didn’t permit me to put other’s lives at risk.

  At the first one, I swerved onto the empty sidewalk, bypassing the stopped cars as Solo continued to weave through them. He lost momentum then, and I thought he’d stop altogether at the light, but then he charged past everyone, barely missing a car attempting to turn. A chorus of horns broke out behind him, and I glanced over my shoulder to make sure he hadn’t killed anyone.

  Reckless motherfucker.

  25 Solo

  I CURSED AS I pushed my bike harder, faster, trying to regain the ground I’d lost when Panther had taken to the sidewalk to pass the traffic. He was in a mood to play—and win—but I wouldn’t be giving in so easily.

  I hadn’t done anything illegal in the hop, but not following the rules to the letter obviously riled him up enough that it’d been either kick each other’s ass on base in front of everyone, or find another way of dealing with pent-up aggression.

  I could’ve thought of a better way, personally, but it would’ve involved no clothes and something other than our bikes between our thighs.

  Up ahead, Panther looped through the cars with amazing ease for how fast he was going, and if he hadn’t been kicking my ass, I would’ve almost smiled. For someone who cared so much about rules, he sure wasn’t so keen on following them right now.

  The beach traffic was a pain in my ass, and as Panther blew through a yellow and it turned red before I got there, I swerved onto the sidewalk as he had.

  There. Getting closer now, but I needed to pull out some serious maneuvers if I was going to win this thing. And I didn’t like to lose.

  I managed to catch his tail, and I knew the moment he sa
w me in his mirrors, because he shot a finger my way.

  So pissed, I thought, my lips curving. Pissed meant passionate, and that was something I could work with.

  He continued blocking me at every turn, ratcheting up my frustration. We weren’t far from the end, and I didn’t have long to win this thing. If I were an asshole with a death wish, I would’ve bumped his back tire to send him spiraling out. The only problem with that plan is I’d probably end up in that wreckage too—and my idea of taking Panther down didn’t include casts, just a bed. Or a counter. Or a wall. I wasn’t picky.

  I faked to the right so I could move around him on the left, but Panther didn’t take the bait. Unwavering, he kept his lead through the final stretch, and then he veered down onto the beach.

  Sand sprayed everywhere in his wake, forcing me to move to the side, narrowly avoiding the massive rock foundations at this end of the beach. No one usually came down to the cliffs, not with the strong undertow in the water or the rocks casting shadows when they tried to tan. It was the perfect spot to end this thing, and as I curved around one of the formations, I pulled even with Panther. Only a little bit further, a little bit more power, and—

  Like he’d been saving a jolt of adrenaline to his engine for this very moment, Panther burst forward, flying to the finish line.

  Fuck. Fuck that, fuck me, and fuck his bike on steroids.

  As I slowed to a stop, Panther jumped off his bike, tearing off his helmet, and it took less than two seconds for me to do the same. I stalked across the sand, the water crashing against the rocks not far from us, and jammed my finger into his chest.

  “Are you fucking kidding with riding on the sidewalk? I doubt that was in your rulebook.”

  Fire blazed in Panther’s eyes, hot and triumphant. “I told you to throw out the rulebook.”

  “I didn’t realize you even knew how.”

  Panther stepped forward, pushing me back. “So now you know how it feels, right? When someone doesn’t follow the rules?” His voice was low and husky, and I could feel my cock stirring. “Makes you want to kick my ass, doesn’t it?”

  “I wasn’t thinking kicking. I was thinking fucking.”

  Panther strode forward the two steps he needed until his chest was up against mine. “Is that all you ever think about?”

  Not about to back down, I angled my chin up. “When it comes to you, yeah, pretty much. Also, I was just watching your ass for the last twenty miles, and I gotta say, you bent over—”

  Panther grasped my chin, halting my words. His eyes were boring into mine now, even as his fingers dug into my skin, and his aggression was ramping up my need to push him that little bit further.

  “Aw, come on, don’t stop there,” I said. “Things were just getting interesting.”

  Panther took a step forward, making me take one back, and when my foot sank into the sand, causing me to stumble a little, he smirked and kept coming until the two of us were between two massive rock formations the waves had carved out over the years.

  Out of the public. Out of sight. We were one hundred percent hidden from view, and when my back came up against the jagged surface behind me, Panther stopped, dropped his hand, and said, “Unzip your fucking jeans.”

  26 Panther

  SOMEWHERE BETWEEN THE time I kicked Solo’s ass and when he’d torn his helmet off to give me a good tongue lashing, all of my pent-up anger and frustration had finally reached its boiling point. That was the only excuse I had for myself, as I watched the sexy daredevil reach for the button of his jeans.

  Hell, who was I kidding? They weren’t the only reasons I was out here. They weren’t the only reasons I’d picked such a secluded place as the end point to this death race alongside the Black Rock Cliffs. The real reason I’d ordered him here, the real reason I’d suggested it, was that somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d known it would come to this.

  I’d known from the first moment I’d locked eyes with Solo in that damn bar that I was going to have him, that he was going to be mine, and it was going to start right fucking now.

  “Unzip my jeans, huh?” Solo’s tongue came out to tease his lower lip as he popped the button free.

  “That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”

  “It was, but the last time we went down this road you got cold feet and tossed me the fuck out. I don’t really do repeats, so…”

  Quick as a flash, I reached for his jeans and tugged him off the rocks and into contact with me. As he aimed a defiant look in my direction, I slowly lowered his zipper.

  “Does this feel like a repeat to you?”

  Solo grabbed hold of my arms, much like he had that day on base when I’d all but devoured him against the locked door.

  “It doesn’t feel like anything— Ahh…shit,” he said, as I shoved my hand inside his jeans and found his hard cock. Solo’s fingers dug into my biceps, and I muscled him back against the rocks.

  “What was that? You don’t feel anything?” I made sure to add a nice, firm stroke to emphasize my point, then lowered my head until my mouth hovered over his. “Liar.”

  “God,” he said, his hot breath ghosting over my lips.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I tightened my grip on his throbbing dick, and Solo’s eyes flared. “You’d like me to turn you around, pull down these jeans, and fuck you right here.”

  Solo shoved forward, tunneling through my fist in his quest for more friction. His gorgeous, whiskey-colored eyes were now dark and heavy-lidded from the lust overtaking any form of common sense, as he bit down into his lip and nodded.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. But I’m still deciding if you deserve that.”

  Solo’s chest rose and fell as I continued to work him, his breathing becoming more rapid. “Deserve what?”

  I brought my other hand up to take hold of his chin, and when I had him exactly where I wanted him, I grazed my lips over his. “My cock in your ass.”

  Solo let out a low, torturous groan, and then a husky chuckle followed.

  “Something funny?”

  “Mhmm.” He tipped his head back, and when he pumped his hips up, I automatically increased the tempo of my strokes to match him. “I was just thinking how I love being right.”

  My fingers stopped moving, but I flexed them around his throbbing erection. When Solo opened his eyes, his lips curved into a sinful smirk I wanted to kiss right off his face.

  “You do like to be the aggressor.”

  Solo pushed off the rocks then slid his hands up over my shoulders to the back of my neck.

  “That’s okay,” he continued, when I said nothing. “As long as you know that I do too.”

  Solo’s mouth was on mine before I could respond, his tongue thrusting between my lips as he shoved me back into the solid surface behind me and plastered himself against my body.

  A feral sound left me as my eyes fell shut and my tongue slid along his in a fight for dominance. I could feel his pre-cum making a sticky mess of my fingers now, and as he ground his hips against my hand and body, my dick began to throb like a son of a bitch.

  “Damn, Grant.” Solo ripped his mouth free, but his hips never slowed, and my entire body vibrated at the use of my real name. “I’ve wanted to do this from the second I saw you.”

  I pulled my hand free of his jeans, about to grab his ass and haul him back in so he’d stop talking and keep doing. But before I could, he took hold of my wrist, pulled it up between us, and flicked his tongue along my fingers.

  A filthy smile accompanied the bold move, but it was what came out of his mouth next that had me close to coming without any hand to dick contact.

  “Hmm, I taste good. Wanna try?”

  Hell yes, I did. And I didn’t care how it happened. His fingers in my mouth, his tongue, his cock… All I could think about was how I would just about kill to have the taste of him on my tongue, so I dropped down to my knees in front of him and reached for his open jeans.

  “Oh fuck.” Solo looked down at wh
ere my knees were now sinking into the sand, and when I curled my fingers around the denim and pulled it out of my way, he reached inside and freed his cock.

  From feel alone, I’d known that Solo was long and thick, but seeing his hand run up his length to the flushed, swollen head made my mouth water. I wanted that luscious prick between my lips, wanted to taste it on my tongue, and, more than anything else right then, wanted to watch Solo lose his mind.

  I ran my eyes up his tight, compact body, but before I delivered, there was one other thing I wanted.

  “Take off your shirt.”

  Solo licked his lips then grabbed a fistful of the material covering his shoulder and drew it up his muscled torso. As the sharp ridges and lines of his abs came into view, I reached between my legs and palmed myself.

  Damn he was sexy.

  Once the shirt was off, Solo tossed it to the ground, then wrapped his hand around his naked cock and aimed it in my direction.

  “Anything else?” His tone was arrogant, smug, and hot as hell, and when I shook my head, he said, “Good. Now open your fucking mouth, Grant.”

  My balls tightened, and though my first instinct was to tell him to fuck off, my need to know how he tasted was that much stronger.

  So I opened my damn mouth.

  27 Solo

  NEVER HAD I seen a better sight than Grant “Panther” Hughes kneeling at my fucking feet.

  Holy shit.

  If someone had told me this was how my day was going to end, I would’ve told them they were delusional. But as I stared down at the sexy as hell man moving up to his knees and flicking his tongue over the end of my—ahh, hell yes—dick, I knew I wasn’t imagining this.

  How did I know that? Because my imagination hadn’t been this damn good.

  From the second I’d climbed off my bike to face off with Panther, the tension between us had been sparking and sizzling like a firecracker in July. Talk about waiting to blow—and not only our tempers.

 

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