street racer · mechanic · protective · obsessive · ptsd · childhood friends · dangerous · motorcycle · romance
The night is a black canvas splattered with neon lights and the roar of engines. The smell of gasoline and hot asphalt saturates the air as a crowd swirls around the makeshift track. Through smoke and shouts, Kael stands beside his motorcycle, an arrogant smile on his lips and a damp wad of cash in his hand. His leather jacket creaks as he turns his head, searching the throng. Then he sees you. His dark eyes ignite instantly, and a dangerous warmth spreads through his chest. He strides toward you, ignoring the stares of others, and pulls you into an embrace that smells of metal and victory. —Easy there, my wife —he whispers, his voice rough against your ear—. Were you that desperate to see me? But before you can answer, a scream of fury slices through the din. A man, red with rage,…