Roosted (Moto X Book 1)

by Brooke May

  I return to my office, but I’m unable to get any real work done.

  And a murderer.

  What the flying fuck did Paige and Parker endure as children?

  Instead of working, I stand at my wall of windows and watch as the bikes are loaded along with any other equipment they will need for the weekend. The semi the twins share for their bikes is like a giant mobile bumblebee with black and yellow stripes down the sides. I would have thought it would have been black and white with red letters for the company logo. Parker must have had something to do with the splash of color.

  Parker is busy helping load with his sister, Len, and some of the crew. I could be getting peaceful work done since he isn’t up here bugging the shit out of me but I can’t focus long enough to be productive.

  At a quarter till, I leave my office once more for the motocross garage and nearly miss them. The garage looks almost like a ghost town with one or two of their other bikes, but no one is around. All are outside making sure everything is ready to go.

  Stepping into the Utah heat, I nearly slam into a shorter, supple body. “In a rush to see me?” I tease, pulling Paige closer to me. Her back to my front, I bend to her ear, pushing her hair out of the way. “I’m glad to see you wore actual clothes for the rest of the day.”

  “Well, my corset kind of was compromised this morning.” I hear the smirk rather than see it. “Someone fucked me so hard the clasp busted open.”

  May I do a happy dance?

  That’s a first for me. I’ve ripped plenty of panties off before, but breaking a corset is a new one.

  “I’m keeping the jacket, by the way.” Finally, she tilts her head, and her dark locks go to the side as she looks up at me. Her bangs do well to cover most of her eyes, but not enough to hide her flair of excitement from me.

  “I have plenty.” I shrug and release her, turning her with a grace my mum would be proud of, then pull her back against me. “Good luck this weekend.” With my index finger, I urge her chin up, but I still have to bend my knees to kiss her lips. It is chaste and quick.

  “Aren’t you sweet?” Her tattooed hand pats me on the side of the face and she steps away from my hold. “But when you are as good as I am, luck isn’t even a factor.”

  “Paige! We need to hit the road,” Parker yells at her from the passenger seat of the black Chevy Duramax.

  “I’m coming,” she shouts back. Focusing back on me, she offers me a side grin. “Don’t have too much fun without me this weekend.” She takes a few steps backward before turning and taking confident strides to the truck.

  When the convoy is loaded, Paige, Parker, and Len wave from the truck and pull out in front of the semi. I wave back and stay there until they are long out of the gates of the complex.

  I make my way back up to my office and get back to work. When my day is done, I pull my keys out and find a present waiting for me.

  I pull out a black lacy thong; it looks as though it was stuffed in the back where my keys slid to. They look like the match to Paige’s corset from this morning. As I regard them, holding them out to get a full view, my phone chimes.

  Paige: They were wet, I came in them before you got to your office. Enjoy. Jerk off in them for me?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Did I jerk off to the panties?

  You bet your sweet arse I did.

  Did I spray my cum all over them like a teenager would with a sock?

  No fucking way would I ruin those beauts; they are in a place of honor in my bedroom. Mounted right above my bed with care and there to remember like any hunter would do with a trophy. I’m thrilled to have something of hers with me, especially since it has been radio silence from her. But I get to see Paige tonight.

  Thank fuck for Jax’s hook-ups through work. We are able to watch the races live along with Parker’s freestyle. The shit you can do with a television these days. Levi came over early to help set everything up. I felt like we were in a space station or some shit with all the cables and wires everywhere.

  Falling onto the lounge, I kick my feet up on the table before me with a bag of chips and a jar of salsa. I wish I could be there, but this is just as good.

  “This is awesome.” Levi takes up his spot on the other end of the lounge. “Thanks for inviting me over.”

  “Anytime.” Jax lifts himself to fix his spot on the recliner Levi and I helped him into. “This is something new we are trying out. I think if I can get it figured out, we might be able to get into the GoPro cameras attached to some of the riders’ helmets.”

  “Fuckin’ aye.” This shit is amazing. “Paige and Parker’s?” Tilting my beer back to drain it, I watch Jax fiddle around with a few more cables before he is finally satisfied.

  “Yeah, maybe.” He turns the volume up just as Paige’s first race gets set to start. I find her instantly. Her black gear and bike don’t stand out like they did the first time I watched her. The riders wear a wide array of colors, but more are wearing black this time.

  My eyes don’t break from the screen as I blindly fumble for another bottle and pop it open. Sitting back, I barely acknowledge if I blink at all out of fear I may miss a second of staring at her.

  “Hello! Anyone home?” Megan sings into the flat. I want to groan, but we are friends now. “I have more food.” She parades into the lounge room with bags of food.

  “Thanks, Meg.” Levi jumps up and helps her set everything up on the table while she puts a platter together to hand off to Jax.

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for inviting me.” She smiles at me and takes the only empty seat left between Levi and myself. What I wouldn’t give for a bigger couch at this moment. I’d rather sit next to Levi in awkwardness or on Jax’s lap than have Megan snug against one side of me.

  I nod, turning back to the television just as the gates drop. The race starts, and I start to drink my new beer far too fast. I’m so engrossed with watching Paige that I’m startled by the rustling of paper next to me. Glaring, I turn my head and find Megan flipping through some gossip trash.

  As if she feels my eyes on her, Megan lifts her head. “What?”

  “Aren’t you going to watch the race?” This is, after all, why she was invited, right?

  “I can do both,” she states defensively and looks back down at her occupied lap.

  “Why come then?” I ask more to myself and focus back on the race just as Paige is taking the lead. I down my beer and reach down to grab another one. A tiny and I mean incredibly small voice in the back of my mind begins to scream at me.

  Slow down, don’t drink so fast.

  Telling it to fuck off, I twist the cap and begin downing the deliciously bitter liquid.

  “Because I haven’t spent any time with my friends lately.” Her snarky comment ebbs on my nerves. I know I said I would be her friend again, but I really don’t like it when she does shit like this. You don’t like watching races, just say so; don’t come around with the hopes of whatever it is you hold.

  Ignoring the fucking noise coming from her flipping the pages and the food being consumed around me, all my attention is on the race. Starting in my heart and going through every vein and artery in my body, my blood thunders with adrenaline with the remembrance of what it felt like to drive in my own races.

  The turns she takes, the jumps she makes, and the laps she pulls are lagging riders in pure perfection on a dirt bike. The heat is over in twenty laps, all during which Paige holds the lead. And like the previous race I watched her win, she does not idle around to gloat; she rides off to get ready for her second race later in the day.

  When the screen goes blank, both Levi and I turn our heads slowly to regard Jax.

  “How the hell do we watch more of it?” I’m a little disappointed he couldn’t figure out how to get the GoPro cameras to work with the television. “I thought we were watching the freestyle as well?” Draining my beer, I place the empty on the table and grab another only to slam that one just as quickly.

 
“We are; hold your tits and give me a moment.” He fumbles with the remote, and finally, the screen changes and a giant dirt ramp is on the screen with riders everywhere. Faces, numbers, and points display on the top of the screen. We faintly hear announcers talking about riders and how they have done so far in the year. Watching with morbid fascination, we down our beers and stuff our faces as some of the rider’s case their runs. I was never one to be active in freestyle jumping, but I’ve always enjoyed watching it. Watching the jumps seems to take longer than watching an actual race.

  “We aren’t going to miss Paige’s second race, are we?” Without breaking eye contact with the television, I lift my bottle to my lips while ignoring the beginning of my words slurring together.

  “No, she should be somewhere watching Parker, and then she will get back to her own shit.” Jax answers me between mouthfuls of nachos.

  “Good.” Chugging the rest of my beer, I bend down to pick up another just as Megan decides to make some odd noise in the back of her throat. “What?” My eyelids droop, failing me as I attempt to glare at her.

  “Isn’t this one of your bosses?” Megan lifts one of the magazines she was looking through, granting me a montage of pictures of different celebrities. I look at each image in turn; a singer dancing on a table with a herd of men around her, some couple on the beach, the woman has a growing belly, and many more different pictures, but the one sticking out the most to me is the one with Paige.

  She is sitting in one of the VIP booths at Clutch; I can tell by the lighting and the arrangement of the booths. They look identical to the ones where she rode my fingers for the first time. And she isn’t alone. My ears begin to burn the longer I stare at the image of a stolen moment.

  My fogged mind has got to be playing tricks on me.

  I can’t make out who he is. His face is turned toward her, sitting far too close to her, and touching her in a familiar way. A snarl quips in the corner of my mouth, pulling my upper lip up to bare my teeth. Even in the picture, I can see the look in Paige’s sea green eyes, which is similar to the one she has given me. It takes everything for me to tear away from it and quickly read the caption beside it.

  Moto Pro Paige Bartin cozying up with Royce Pollard, potential Piston Motor Sports rally car driver.

  I don’t realize I have taken the magazine from Megan until I feel the paper crinkle in my massive hands, doing well to crimp the entire bloody thing.

  “What’s going on?” Levi tugs the piece of shit out of my hands with some force and flips to the right place with Megan’s help. I grab my beer bottle for dear life and drain it. “Well, fuck.” He blows out a breath, shaking his head, and close the magazine. He flips it from back to cover, looking for something.

  “Let me look.” Jax offers his hand, and Levi slaps it in it. Once more, the picture is seen, and the magazine is closed. My misery continues, and no matter how quickly I drink, I’m not numbed quickly enough. This time, Jax finds something that causes his brows to rise. “They print them fast, don’t they?”

  “What?” Jax tosses it back to me, pages fluttering open and whipping in the wind it creates before landing on my outstretched legs. I don’t want to grab it, but I do and open it. I take another look, managing not to focus on what was happening but what Paige is wearing. It is the same outfit she wore Wednesday when she cornered me in the break room.

  How do I remember?

  Because I’m a fucking insane man hooked on that woman. Anything and everything she does, wears, or says, I remember.

  This had to be taken Wednesday night after I turned her down, and she left me angry.

  I’m too pissed off to think about any of it, but at the same time, it consumes my every thought now. The room is silent because Jax muted the television. I glance up; my friends eye me with worry, but I’m focused on the jumps. I don’t give a flying fuck about watching anymore. Any excitement has drained from my soul.

  I stand, letting the trash fall to the floor. “I don’t feel like watching anymore.”

  No one questions me or stops me as I leave the room and march back to my bedroom. Slamming the door behind me, I fall face first onto the bed and just stop.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jolting to a start, I wake from a dead sleep. I dart up into a sitting position on my bed, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. When I can finally see clear enough, the figure by my bedside is just as dark as the night; only her red rimmed lips and shocking green eyes seem to glow in the moonlight coming through the curtains.

  “Paige?” Anger comes back to me as it drives the sleep from my head. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Axle.” Her voice is utterly calm, yet something is different, almost wrong about it. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m not fucking okay,” I growl as I start to stand, but she pushes me back down.

  “Well then, let me take care of you.” She climbs onto the bed. My mattress does not dip as it should. This can’t be real. I must be dreaming. There is no way she could have gotten here in a few hours.

  Granted, I don’t know what the time is, but still.

  “Why? You have the other man—”

  “Because I can. Let me take the edge off, baby.”

  I have no time to process any of it; Paige in my bedroom, her pulling my shorts down, her hand freeing my steadily hardening dick, or her calling me baby. She’s never done that before.

  “Paige, I think we need to ta—” My words die on my tongue when her lips envelop my dick and suck me deep into her warm mouth until my head hits the back of her throat. “Fuck.”

  My head falls to the pillows behind me. Her blood red nails dig into the flesh of my arse as I buck off the bed, and her head bobs, working me in and out of her mouth with suction that would make any vacuum jealous. Her tongue rolls against my shaft, rubbing against my piercings as her cheeks hollow out when she begins to pull off me.

  “Shit,” I hiss and look down at her, but her black locks block my view of her beautiful face. With a single hand, I manage to grab hers and pull it firmly, urging her on and increasing my pleasure to see her face around my dick, her eyes closed, and the red marks she’s leaving at my base.

  She frees me, only to nibble and lightly bite down on my tip before pulling me back into her warm mouth. I’m lost in her movements. My arse can’t jerk off the bed with her hold on it, leaving me lost to her methods of pleasuring me.

  My release comes far quicker than I ever thought possible. My balls draw up just as she cups them and lightly squeezes them with the tiniest of twists. It doesn’t feel bad. With her movements, I can tell she knows I’m close to coming in her mouth. I don’t bother to tell her and just watch as my cum shoots into her mouth. Paige swallows every last drop, letting a drop of it run down the corner of her mouth after I’m done and she releases me.

  “Fuck!” I shout, startling myself to a fully awake state. Looking around the dim room, I find no sign of Paige, but I am naked. I can tell with how my body moves under the sheets.

  I feel like shit. I know it wasn’t from the amount of beer I consumed last night, but something about that dream felt so fucking real it was almost wrong.

  Climbing out of bed, I feel a cool breeze hit my arse, causing me to turn to my window. I never sleep with it open.

  “No.” Dread pools in my stomach. I feel nasty, dirty, and strangely violated when my eyes land on the other body in my bed.

  Megan doesn’t stir even with the cover down around the bottom of her arse. Stupidly, I stay frozen in place, only my hands work as they jet up into my hair and grab hold until pain shoots through me.

  I want to rush into the bathroom, scrub my body in a boiling hot shower, and fall to the ground to cry. Instead, I walk back to my bed and do something entirely too strange even for myself.

  I smell the fucking sheets.

  Yes, I smell my own sheets because it is the only clue I have to know if my dream was real just not with Paige or who the fucking h
ell knows. Taking a deep breath does nothing; my sense of smell hasn’t fully woken up yet.

  Heaving one deep breath after another, I finally pick up the scent of the laundry soap I use and the smell of me, but no sex. It isn’t comforting, though; something still feels completely off by all of it.

  Grabbing my clothes that somehow fell from my body in the middle of the night, I rush out of my room and dress quietly in the hallway, then make my way to the kitchen to cook myself some breakfast while I try to figure out the mess I have gotten myself into.

  The magazine picture with Paige.

  That’s where it must have all started.

  I fucking fell asleep. Megan and the guys had to have known I wanted to be left alone. So why did she come into my room? And how did I end up naked in my bed with her?

  “Shit, shit, SHIT!” I throw a wooden spoon across the room, narrowly missing Megan in the doorway. The expression she wears matches exactly how I feel, that is, until I take in what she is wearing.

  “Take it off,” I growl. My shirt has no place against her skin.

  “I can’t find my clothes.” Her eyes fill with unshed tears. Trembling, she enters the room. “Ax—”

  “Don’t. Just fucking don’t.” I put up a hand to stop her from coming closer. Much to my surprise, she doesn’t. Megan takes a seat at the bar instead. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  She flinches. “I don’t remember anything.” Her hands shake as she lifts one to wipe her eyes. “The last thing I recall is you leaving the room, and I got into your beer.” Her sobs take control of her words, leaving her a blubbering mess.

  “The fuck?” Jax and Levi didn’t know she left them?

  This is fucked up; granted, I’m not in a committed relationship with Paige, but up until last night, I had hoped we could become something more exclusive. Well, that isn’t fucking happening now.

  I grab my bottom lip, at a loss of what to do or say. We need to address this, but I can’t talk to Megan while she is crying.