Page 3 of Nitro
Something twisted low in my gut. Not anger or frustration. Hunger.
Kane chuckled low under his breath because he saw it. Edge snorted, shaking his head like Christmas had come early. Which it probably had for him since he loved giving all of us shit.
But I didn’t look at them.
I kept my gaze on her.
She didn’t flinch under my stare. Didn’t shrink from the weight of it. Just gave me that eyebrow, that dare, and waited.
And fuck me if I didn’t already know.
She was fast. Too fast.
She didn’t scare easily.
She was gonna be a problem.
But she was mine now.
Which meant she was my problem.
2
JANA
I’d just won my first Shadow Tryout, and the rush was still pounding in my veins. Teaching me to drive cars and motorcycles was the only thing my dad had gotten right, but I hadn’t expected to smoke the guys who bragged about being Nitro’s recruits on my first run.
The underground race circuit was secretive about most things, but I’d heard whispers about the sergeant at arms for the Redline Kings. He was the kind of guy who made other men nervous, and odds were good he wasn’t going to be thrilled that I’d beat his drivers by such a wide margin.
I’d blown through that course faster than any of them, leaving everyone choking on my dust. My chest was still heaving from the adrenaline dump, but I felt sharp inside. Certain. Like I’d just proven something important.
I expected some shock. Perhaps even annoyance from the drivers I'd beaten. But not the weight of a gaze so intense it prickled against my skin before I even saw the man standing next to the billionaire who ruled the Florida racing world. And his brother, who had not been exaggerated, if I went by the crazy glint in his eyes.
But I was focused on the one staring at me. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his dark hair mussed, like he’d run a hand through it one too many times. The short beard framing his jaw and tattoos inked in heavy black along his forearm only added to his appeal…until my gaze snagged on the leather vest he wore. He wasn’t just some guy who helped Kane with races. He was a member of the Redline Kings MC, too.
And he was staring at me like I was a problem.
Heat coiled low in my stomach, unwanted and inconvenient. The last thing I needed was to get tangled up with a biker—especially one who looked at me like he didn’t know if he wanted to strangle me or kiss me.
I was so focused on him that I almost missed Kane moving toward me. Forcing my eyes away from those fierce brown orbs, I smiled at the guy who I hoped to impress.
His expression was unreadable when he extended his hand. “Hell of a run.”
“Thanks.” I slid my palm against his, forcing my grip steady when I really wanted to punch my fist in the air.
His handshake was firm and lasted long enough for the other biker to move to his side, a low sound vibrating up his broad chest.
My gaze flicked back toward the dark-haired guy. His heated stare had zeroed in on where Kane’s hand wrapped around mine, and his jaw clenched hard enough I thought his teeth might crack.
Oh, great.Exactly what I didn’t need: to be attracted to an overprotective biker with a caveman complex.
“Jenna Carter.”
The alias slid off my tongue as smoothly as if it were mine. Practicing in the mirror a hundred times had made sure of that. Good thing, since I was too distracted by the biker who shouldered Kane aside to worry about the lie.
“Nitro.”
It figured the biker who’d sent heat roaring through me at the very worst time was the one who’d recruited the drivers I’d just beat.
