Drag Strip Fuck

C h a p t e r 3

I rub my eyes, walking into the wide open door of Bruce’s garage.

“Look, Zackara, give me a week,” I say, leaning against the doorway, trying not to cry. “I’ll get you what you guys need to get over here for the rest of the summer. Can’t you try and get Mama into rehab again?”

“She won’t go. Says her “babies need her”,” my sister says, sighing into the phone.

“Ok. I’ll send you the money for tickets as soon as possible. I’ll find you a place to stay for the summer. We’ll figure this out,” I say as Nico slinks into the garage wearing a pair of black jeans and a black tee.

“We always do,” Zackara says. “Thanks Aliana. Rascal says he misses you.”

“Tell him I miss him too,” I say as Nico takes a few steps closer to me. “Talk later, bye.”

I hang up, dropping my phone on the tool bench and turning to Nico, who is watching me.

“What was that about?” He asks, stepping closer and bringing one hand up to brush a piece of hair behind my ear.

I grab his hand, noticing the cool sting of metal in my hand and realizing he is wearing rings. I silently curse my love for guys wearing rings and earrings.

“None of your business,” I say, letting go of his hand and pulling away.

I make enough money to more than tide me over with drag racing, bartending and the odd custom dragster here and there, but it’s never enough to support my broken family.

“Family problems?” He asks and my chest rumbles in anger.

“I said none of your fucking business,” I growl, spinning around and striding over to my most recent project, which, when finished, will bag me well over 7,000 bucks. Enough to get my four siblings over here and a place to stay for the summer.

“I have a place you could stay if you needed one,” Nico says, making his way over toward me.

In anger, I pick up the first thing that I see, hurling the heavy metal object at him. It sails past on his left before clattering to the chipped ground with a bang.

Before I can react, Nico is in front of me, my hands pinned to the hood of the car and his legs keeping me in place.

“Don’t throw shit at me Princess,” he growls, his face close to mine.

“Fuck off Nico!” I yell, fighting against his hands.

“Not till you tell me what’s wrong,” he says, pressing my wrists harder into the hood of the car.

“Fuck off,” I spit angrily, yanking one hand free and using that free hand to pummel him in the chest. “It’s none of your business.”

“If it’s making you this mad, I think it should be,” he says, grabbing my balled up fist and pressing it into his chest.

“This isn’t my fault. What did I fucking do to have to deal with this!?” I yell, pounding my head into his chest.

“You didn’t do anything,” he says and I freeze, trying to tug my hands away.

“I have to finish this car,” I say, looking up at him.

“Ok,” he says, nodding.

He steps away and for a moment I want to lunge at him and kiss him till the stupid, broken anger is flushed from my veins. Instead I tug my hands back and turn around, facing the car. I need to reupholster the leather interior and outfit the front with racing seats. Headlights need to be changed out and the customer wants the windows tinted darker. Windshield wipers replaced and add a cold air intake system to the already ultra powerful engine.

“Aliana?” Nico whispers in my ear and I jump, feeling his hot breath against my neck.

“What?” I snap, not turning around. I don’t want him to see my cheeks heat with color or the fact that I am squeezing my thighs together.

“We’ll talk about this later,” he says before the heat on my back disappears and I hear his Air Forces retreating.

~~~

“What did you want earlier?” I ask, walking out of the garage into the cold night air.

Nico is leaning against his bike, typing something on his phone as I lock the door behind me and cast a curious glance his way.

Just as I arrive in front of him, he slips his phone into his back pocket and stands, grabbing my shoulders and spinning me around till my ass hits the side of the bike and he is pressed into me.

“How many times are you gonna back me up against cars or bikes?” I ask, smirking up at him.

“You little brat,” he says, his chest rumbling against my finger tips.

His lips slam into mine and I open willingly, moaning into his mouth. He groans and grinds his already hard dick into my thigh, making me squeeze my thighs together and bite down on his lip. His tongue slips between my lips and twirls against mine, running along my lower lip as I lean into him, moaning as his dick brushes against my core through my jeans.

“If you weren’t wearing pants right now, I’d be finger fucking you, Princess,” he says, pulling away to kiss a trail down my neck and along my collarbone.

“You wish,” I mutter, biting my lip to hold back a moan as he sucks on the sensitive spot beneath my ear.

“What was that?” He asks, pulling away and glaring darkly at me. His pupils are dilated and his eyes are hooded, filled with lust.

“You. Wish,” I say, smirking up at him as his eyes transform into slits and he glares down at me.

“On the bike, now,” he growls, grabbing his helmet and shoving it over my head.

“What you gonna do?” I say, flicking the visor up.

“Fuck you till you can’t stand, Princess,” he says, getting on the bike and turning the key, the engine revving beneath us.

I wrap my arms around his waist, resisting the urge to slip my fingers beneath the hem of his tee and feel his abs. Instead I rest my chin on his shoulder as we speed out of the parking lot, ripping down the deserted street.

As the wind tickles my exposed arms and neck, I sigh, remembering ripping down roads on the back of my dad’s Harley, my little arms wrapped around his waist, fingers gripping his shirt as I hung on for dear life, dreading when we would come home to my mother.

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Sorry for dropping off the face of the earth, guys. Ended up getting sick on my birthday. I'll try to do some more posting and some while I'm traveling. Should be able to, cuz I've got some long layovers and flights. ♥️♥️♥️