Page 51 of Sinful Submission

“Didn’t I kick you out of my hotel?” I asked, bristling at his unexpected appearance.

Christian smirked, hanging his helmet on the handlebars. “You invited me to leave. I did. Now I’m back.”

“How convenient you happened to bring your bike from St. Louis.”

“I shipped it ahead of time,” Christian got of his bike, patting the Ducati’s tank. “Miami roads deserve proper machinery, not a rental. And I never left the city, I just switched hotels.”

Santari stepped forward, her posture deliberately casual but her eyes alert. “You ride often in St. Louis?”

“Every chance I get,” Christian confirmed. His gaze shifted between us. “Some of my best thinking happens on two wheels.”

“What do you want?” I asked bluntly.

Christian gestured toward my Mercedes. “I saw you heading out with this beauty. I thought maybe we could ride together—get to know each other without the old man around.”

The mention of Ron made my jaw tighten. “I don’t need family bonding time.”

“I’m not offering therapy, just a ride,” Christian countered. “Unless you’re worried that fancy German engineering can’t keep up with Italian craftsmanship.”

I studied him, noting the challenge in eyes that were the same shape as mine.

Irritated, I responded. “You’re trying to race me?”

“If that’s what it takes to get you to spend ten minutes in my company, then yeah.” Christian straddled his Ducati again. “Four miles down Ocean Drive to South Pointe, then back. That should give us enough time to see what these machines can do.”

“There’s traffic,” I pointed out, looking at the steady stream of cars crawling along Ocean Drive.

Christian grinned. “That’s what makes it interesting. One million says I cross the line first.”

My eyebrows raised at that. The money meant nothing to either of us—this was about proving something. But was it worth my time?

“If you want to lose that bad, that’s all you have to say.” I pulled out my phone and dialed Cruz, cutting my eyes to Santari.

“What’s good?” Cruz answered. The ambient noise in the background said he was already out.

“Are you close to Primal?”

“I’m ten minutes out, why?”

“Head this way. I’m about to take this fool’s money.”

Cruz’s voice dropped. “Everything straight?”

“Yeah, just get here pronto,” I replied before ending the call.

Santari placed her hand on my arm. “You know I can ride with you, right?”

“And you will—after I handle this. I can’t put precious cargo on my back while riding this fool into the ground.”

She stared at me, then nodded slowly. “Alright. But you better win.”

I arched a brow. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you thought you were fucking a loser.”

“First time for everything,” Christian interjected with a smirk.

I cut my gaze at him. “Your confidence is dinner for my gut, but I like the cockiness. Keep it up.”

“Ditto. It must run in the family.”

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