Throttled (Dirty Air, #1)

by Lauren Asher

Quite the family, right? A broken, mangled history of missed birthdays, uncelebrated holidays, and empty grandstands at most Formula 1 races. The only reason they both attended this Grand Prix was because Dad wanted to reminisce while Mom showed off to her friends how incredible life is for someone who birthed a racing all-star. Neither one came for me.

We don’t need to compare dick sizes to see who’s the best when my driving does the talking.

Can’t help my sexual appetite when I fuck like I race—wild, risky, and often. Blame the adrenaline rush or feeling like a god behind the wheel.

“Yeah, we both have the typical dark hair, brown eyes thing going for us, even though I’m the better-looking sibling. But don’t tell him that. These drivers and their egos, fragile little things.” I give her a cheeky grin.

I would love to hear her repeat my name under different circumstances. Behind closed doors, where no one can hear us, preferably without clothes on.

I want to spend more time around her and suck up her happiness like the goddamn black hole I am.

“She’s lucky to have you around. Especially since she’s all alone when Santi is busy. We tell him he works too hard.” I doubt her mother would have the same opinions about me if she knew half the thoughts I have about her daughter.

I don’t try to get into his daughter’s pants; I just think about it a lot.

By lap sixty-four, I make worse turns that leave me open for an overtaking. To no one’s surprise, Santiago passes me at one of the corners, rattling my car as he zooms by. My lips lift at the corners. The crowd goes wild, releasing deafening roars when Santiago crosses the finish line first, red smoke billowing up into the air from canisters. I solidify my second place on the podium when I get the next checkered flag. Better luck next time.

I took an Intro to Psych course, and I know the stats about parents hitting their kids.

Thou shall not bang your brother’s teammate rings in my ears, a new mantra for me by now. Yes, my mantra list continues to grow, but you haven’t met Noah Slade.

“If you look me up on the internet, you can find lots of videos of me cursing at the team and myself. A team radio is how Bandini and I communicate about race stats, car info, and problems. My personal favorite video is the British Grand Prix from 2014. Watch it if you haven’t seen it. You’ll be entertained. The pit crew forgot to connect my water pump, and I was basically a cranky baby without a bottle for an hour.”

“You forgot one more question.” I don’t think as the words leave my mouth. It seems like the perfect chance to have her alone without any interruptions of the blond-haired, green-eyed variety. Maya stares up at me, confusion lining her face. “Will Noah Slade ask Maya Alatorre on a date?”

“Five fender benders? That’s excessive for someone young.” I shake my head and point to the bottle sitting next to us. “Nope. I never crashed my brother’s first date, even though my parents wanted me to. Santi paid me fifty euros to watch a different movie. He got his hookup while I got a new pair of shoes.” “One, how do you still have a license?

“Liam’s been asking Sophie for a redo, but she keeps saying no.” “We don’t want that to happen,” his voice rumbles. When did he get close to me? Our hands are practically touching. “And why not?” Another breathy sentence from me. “Because I already called dibs on you.” His intense gaze makes me shudder.

“You can’t call dibs on people. You sound like a B-list rom-com.” “But I fuck like an A-list porno.”

“If it were another life, I’d probably do right by you. I’d take you on dates and try harder. But that’s not who I am or how I was raised. I don’t know how to be the kind of emotional guy you desire.”

And the erotic way Maya kisses. Fuck me. Kissing her feels like I did it wrong with all the women before her.

But I also spend time going to therapy. Yup. Let that sink in for a second. Me in therapy. I sit in my psychologist’s office, attending one of my two weekly sessions. One session per week wouldn’t cut it because I need to work through a ton of shit about my parents, relationships, and my issues with commitment.

“I think love is about happiness and sacrifice. Compromising instead of arguing. Having someone who is always there for you even when you don’t deserve it. Loving someone means you want to spend the rest of your life with them, on the good days and the bad days and everything in between.”

Despite all the action, for the first time, I feel lonely. I’m putting it out there. My therapist would be proud.

“I mean it when I say I spent a lot of time alone. I reflected on what was stopping me from trying this out with you. Our chemistry is”—her lips capture my attention—“explosive. But I also know there’s more. I like being around you, especially when you give me all your attention. I like when you film me without asking because you’re afraid of me saying no, even though you can get me to agree to anything. I love the way you laugh almost as much as the way you find your shoes interesting when you get nervous. I really like the special noises you save just for me when I kiss you and the smiles you give me when no one is looking. I’m serious about trying it all with you. No holding back. I even met with someone to talk about my own issues and reservations, because when I do something, I go all in.”

“Jesus, take the wheel.” I make the sign of the cross before putting on my helmet. “You may have called me God last night, but I’m the only one behind the wheel today.” The smug man fucking winks.

“To answer your question from before, yes I’ve seen The Last Rose. I took notes. This is the first of many for us, so I had to make it unforgettable.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret though… Fucking you is the equivalent of winning a World Championship. I could never win again and be perfectly fine so long as you’re by my side. In my bed. Me inside you. I like you a lot.”

To put it short, my father deserves to be fucked right up the ass with a tub of extra strength Icy Hot for lube.

I love the way she lies in bed reading books in the middle of the day, unbothered and shooing me away when she hits a good part.

“Oh, Father. The thing is I have it all handled. Bandini no longer needs your generous donations. I attended almost every sponsor event, meeting, and gala held this year, slowly securing enough sponsorships to outbid yours. You’re done with my team. Feel free to back another group if you want. Not sure if they need a donor with a crappier attitude than the sewer you crawled out of, but hell, you are a legend after all.”

I’ll ask him a series of questions where he has to take a shot whenever he refuses to answer. I end the show after four because he weighs a lot, and I can’t pick his butt up off the floor. Blame their strict workout regimen and muscle mass.” My brother flexes his bicep at the camera. “Warning: I didn’t come up with these questions. I want to clarify since fans want answers to things I do not need to know about my brother.”

“Ugh. I hate this one. Your favorite sex position?” He winks at the camera and knocks back a shot. Good answer.

“Beautiful, both inside and out. Funny enough to get my asshole sense of humor. Someone who wants to have a family and likes me for me rather than for fame. And a girl who will travel around the world with me because this job is constantly on the go.” I think my ovaries explode but it’s hard to tell. Moving on.

“I have one last request.” I grab her hand. She glances up at me, her curiosity apparent. “Will you dance with me?” She nods her head enthusiastically while shooting me a radiant smile. I pull up the music-streaming app on my phone before placing it on one of the tables. Thomas Rhett’s “Die a Happy Man” croons through the tiny speakers, loud enough for us to hear. My hand grabs hers as I pull her toward an empty area. With one hand on the small of her back and the other wrapped around her hand, I sway us to the music. This is the best I can get for now since we can’t dance together in public yet. The moment feels fitting after the sex we shared, her head lying against my chest as we move around in a small circle. I kiss the top of her head before I spin her around.

He shows me how he cares, doing sweet things that make me appreciate him even more. Like buying me one of every candy bar when I got my period and sex was off the table.

“All right, you two. I don’t like how tense you both have been. Fans notice, the crew comments on it, and I sure as hell don’t want to deal with it. Get everything out now. I won’t allow any more drama on my team, especially with the final GP coming up. If I wanted to be waist-deep in shit, I would have worked for McCoy. Santi, I’ll allow you one punch. Make it count because everyone knows Noah can be a smug fucker.”

My boyfriend, the same man who acted like the whole world could go fuck itself, gave my brother a hug and told him thank you for punching his dad. A freaking thank you. If I didn’t already love him, I would have offered my heart at that moment.

“Under all that attitude, you sure have the biggest heart.” “Shh. Don’t let anyone in on our secret.”

“I told them my parents aren’t coming, and it would mean a lot to me to have my girlfriend’s family here, no matter who wins. Because I would like to get to know them before I whisk you off on a two-week vacation. But most of all, it will make you happy, which in turn makes me happy.”

My dad grumbles under his breath. “What’s that, mi amor?” She smiles at him. He looks Noah in the eyes. “If he breaks her heart, I’ll run him over with the car he loves more than anything.” “Loved more than anything.” Noah sends me a wide smile that I save for my memories.

I want to share everything with Maya. Fuck prenups and shit emphasizing the potential for a relationship to fail. If my marriage ends in a divorce, Maya might as well walk away with half my shit anyway. Why the fuck not, seeing as my heart is the most valuable thing she’d take.

I fidget with her engagement ring in a calming gesture to remind myself she is all mine. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health. With orgasms forever and always.