POV Ajax
The jealousy burning in Bella's eyes hit me like pure adrenaline. She stood there, chest heaving, fury and want warring across her face—and suddenly the bet seemed laughably easy.
She wanted me. Actually wanted me. Not just curious, not just rebellious—genuinely, desperately affected by the thought of other girls touching me.
"You want my attention, starlight?" I moved closer, hands sliding along her waist, digging into the soft give of her hips. Her body betrayed her instantly—her thighs trembled, and a tiny, broken whimper slipped past those perfect fucking lips. "You've got it."
"Ajax—"
Her voice was a wreck, throat tight with the kind of need that turns good girls into sluts.
"No more games." I lifted her onto the Ducati in one motion, the bike rocking slightly as I stepped between her parted thighs. "No more pretending this isn't happening."
The garage lights threw our shadows against the walls—distorted, tangled, honest. Her breathing came fast and shallow, those perfect lips parted in surprise.
"This is a mistake," she whispered, but her hands were already on my chest, fingers tracing the dragon inked across my ribs.
"Probably." I leaned down, lips brushing her throat. "Want me to stop?"
Her pulse hammered against my mouth. "I should say yes."
"But you won't."
"No." The admission broke from her like surrender. "I won't."
Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me up to crash our mouths together. The kiss was nothing like our first—no tentative exploration, no careful boundaries. This was desperation and demand, teeth and tongue, her legs wrapping around my waist to pull me closer.
I pushed her shirt up, revealing smooth, pale skin, her tits spilling out of a lace bra so flimsy it was practically an invitation.
She arched into my touch, a filthy moan ripping from her throat as I palmed her tits, squeezing hard enough to make her whine.
"Someone could walk in," she gasped, but her legs locked around my waist, pulling me closer, her cunt grinding against my dick through layers of denim.
"Let them." I bit down on her collarbone, while my fingers found the clasp of her bra. "Let everyone see the ice princess melting."
"Shut up." She yanked me back to her mouth, her kiss violent with need. "Just—shut up and touch me."
The command destroyed what little control I had left. I shoved her bra up, her tits bouncing free, nipples stiff and pink, begging for my mouth. I didn’t make her wait—I sucked one deep between my lips, biting just enough to make her scream.
"Jesus, Bella." I groaned. "You're going to kill me."
"Good." She fumbled with my belt, fingers shaking. "Fair trade."
I caught her wrists, pinning them above her head against the bike's handlebars. "Not yet."
"Ajax, please—"
The word shattered something in me. Bella Sinclair saying please, begging, coming apart under my hands. This was a victory sweeter than any race, any bet.
My free hand worked at her jeans, button popping open. She lifted her hips to help, the motion grinding against me in ways that made coherent thought impossible.
"Tell me you want this." I needed to hear it, needed the confirmation for more than just the bet. "Tell me—"
"I want you." The words came out broken, desperate. "God help me, I want you so much it hurts."
I was about to take everything—claim my victory, win the bet, destroy us both—when the distinctive rumble of motorcycles cut through the garage.
"Shit!" I jerked back, recognizing Jake's bike, Delaney's Yamaha, others approaching fast.
We scrambled apart, Bella's hands shaking as she buttoned her jeans, yanked down her shirt. I grabbed a rag, wiping grease on my hands to explain the dishevelment, though nothing could explain her swollen lips or my wrecked hair.
The garage door rattled open just as we managed to put three feet between us.
"Finally!" Jake burst through, followed by Delaney and Laila. "Thought you'd gone completely AWOL on us."
He stopped short, taking in the scene—Bella against the wall, me by the bike, the charged air between us practically visible.
"You never let anyone in here," Jake's voice carried equal parts surprise and suspicion. "Ever. You literally threatened to break my legs last time I asked to see your garage."
"Things change." I kept my voice level, though adrenaline still coursed through my veins.
"We came to drag your ass to the race," Delaney explained, her sharp eyes cataloging every detail. "You weren't answering texts, and Marco was talking shit about you being too scared to show."
"But apparently you were busy." Laila's gaze locked on Bella with predatory focus. "With her."
"I was just leaving." Bella said it quietly, as if she were ashamed..
"Were you?" Jake asked. "Because Ajax doesn't just show people his garage. This is like... sacred space. He works on his bikes here alone, always alone."
"Jake—" I warned.
"No, seriously." He turned to me, eyebrows raised. "Three years I've known you, and this is the first time I've been inside. But the princess gets a private tour?"
"What's she doing here?" Laila's voice could have frozen fire.
"Learning about motorcycles." I made my voice sound easy, though my nerves were buzzing. "Princess wanted to see where the magic happens."
"Magic?" Jake laughed, but his eyes darted between us, taking in details. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
I wanted them gone. All of them. I’d brought Bella in here because it was mine—quiet, grease, the hum of engines—and because for one clean minute we both wanted the same thing.
Instead, I had Jake mouthing off, Laila staking claims that weren’t hers, and the moment I’d been starving for shattered at my feet like loose bolts.
My hand tightened around the rag so I wouldn’t plant it—my fist—in Jake’s smug face. If Bella hadn’t been here, I might’ve.
And Laila? On any other night I’d have told her to get the hell out.
Delaney was the only one I didn’t mind—straight shooter, always has been—but even she was one more body between me and what I wanted.
I swallowed it down for Bella’s sake. Kept my voice level. Kept my temper leashed. Because the only thing worse than losing the moment was letting them see how much it mattered.