My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 119

Chapter 119

Raphael

-18-

The engine of my bike screamed between my thighs. I kicked it into sixth gear, the world blurring into a smear of gray and black as I tore down the coastal highway. The wind hit my chest, but it wasn’t enough to cool the heat still burning under my skin.

I could still feel the delicate weight of her jaw in my hand.

Gianna.

My head was a mess of her scent, that soft, flowery perfume that didn’t belong anywhere near a man like me. I shifted my weight, leaning the bike hard into a sharp curve until my knee puckered the asphalt.

My dick throbbed, straining against the heavy leather of my racing suit. I had been seconds away from ruining everything. Seconds away from tasting if those green eyes tasted as sweet as they looked.

I didn’t like her as a person. But fuck, I wanted to use her. I wanted to see if she’d make those same broken sounds under me that she made on my bike in the garage.

I took the exit for the industrial docks, the tires chirping as I skidded onto the cracked pavement.

This was the Pit-an illegal stretch of wasteland. I pulled up to the starting line, the LED headlights of my bike cutting through the thick haze of cigarette smoke and exhaust.

I pulled the leather gloves on, the carbon fiber knuckles clicking as I flexed my hands.

Around me, the Pit was screaming. This was Silvio’s masterpiece, my little brother had a talent for turning a stretch of broken concrete into a godless playground.

He organized these street races every three months, a dark, high-stakes circus for the families to wash their money and blow off steam.

I shifted my weight, the leather of my suit pulling tight against my thighs. My dick was still hard, a dull, annoying ache that reminded me of how close I’d been to actually doing it. I should have just taken her right there against the stone pillar. This wasn’t new. It was just inconvenient timing attached to the wrong girl.

I don’t get caught in things like this.

Everything has a place. A category. A purpose. I don’t blur lines, and I don’t lose control over something as simple as attraction. That’s for men who don’t understand themselves. I do. Which is why this… stayed exactly where it needed to stay.

Lust.

It wasn’t about her, not really. It was the situation. The label. The way the world would choke on it if it ever saw it for what it was. Forbidden things always carried more weight than they deserved. People confuse restriction with

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