Throttle's Seduction: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 7) by Chiah Wilder Page B

rotting food invaded his nostrils. With her wrist still in his hand, he moved them away from the diner’s dumpsters.
    “What are you doing?” she snapped as she jerked out of his grip.
    Good question. What the shit am I doing? “I want to talk to you.”
    Taking a couple steps back, she stared at him. “About what?”
    He shrugged. He hadn’t been thinking clearly. All he knew was that for some illogical reason, he wanted to be close to her. His gaze traveled up her body then landed on her face. “You look pretty when you’re all fixed up.”
    A smirk danced on her glossy lips. “That’s a half-assed compliment.”
    He held his hands up. “No, I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant you look good without the coveralls and grease.”
    “You dragged me out in the stinking heat to tell me that?” He gave her a half-smile. “Unbelievable,” she said as she rolled her eyes.
    He felt stupid all of a sudden, like a teenage boy talking to his crush for the first time. This wasn’t him at all. He didn’t act like some bumbling teenager who couldn’t control his damn dick. This whole thing was fucked. His muscles tensed and he frowned. “You work in a bike shop and you’re out with a fuckin’ cowboy? How the hell does that work?”
    She lifted a defiant chin. “Tell me how who I’m out with is any of your damn business.”
    “I don’t give a shit who you’re with. I just pegged you as a biker chick, not a rodeo one. That’s all.”
    “Well, I’m neither. I’m an individual who can’t be fit into a mold.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
    “He your boyfriend or something?”
    Fixing her eyes on him, she said, “Something.”
    In one long stride, he stood in front of her, his hands itching to dig into her skin and pull her to him. His gaze lingered on her mouth, her bottom lip shiny and tempting. He so wanted to taste it. Whoa. What the fuck is wrong with me?
    Kimber leaned in closer to him and he lowered his head, her warm, minty breath fanning over his face.
    “Kimber?” a deep voice said from behind Throttle. She jumped back as though she’d been stung by a bee.
    He spun around and saw the cowboy standing right outside the doorway, a befuddled look on his face. Throttle glanced at Kimber and saw her fidgeting with the snaps on her tight-as-hell top. He chuckled under his breath, every bit of him enjoying her discomfort.
    “Hey, Riley,” she muttered.
    “What’s going on here?”
    “Uh… I was just going over some stuff from work.” She jerked her chin at Throttle. “He’s a member of the club I was telling you about, remember?” She sidled over to him and then laced her fingers through his. Riley threw her a boyish grin, and Throttle wanted to slam his face into the brick wall.
    “Okay. So you know him from work?”
    She bobbed her head up and down too many times, saying, “Right. That’s right” over and over.
    Her date extended his hand to Throttle. “I’m Riley.”
    He looked at it, then the guy’s goofy, grinning face. He snorted and bumped Riley as he walked past him and entered the diner. From behind him, Riley said, “What’s up with him? Did I offend him or something?”
    “No,” Kimber replied. “He’s just a jerk.”
    Throttle stopped, his blood boiling, but before he could go back outside and punch Riley in the face and kiss Kimber hard, the scent of citrus curled around him. A soft arm encircled his trim waist. “What were you doing outside, handsome? Your meatloaf’s ready.”
    Wrapping his arm around Peggy, he pulled her close. She was the woman he should want to kiss. Without answering, he walked back to his table, squeezed her shoulder, and slid into the booth. He placed a forkful of meatloaf in his mouth.
    “Is it too cold? You want me to nuke it for a few seconds?”
    He shook his head.
    “Let me give my customers their dinner, and then I’ll come join you.” Peggy rushed off.
    He kept his eyes down on his plate as he shoveled in his food, but he