Throttled (Dirty Air 1)

A growl of frustration leaves his lips. His overprotection may be sweet, but the charm wears off pretty quickly when I deal with it weekly.

“Don’t worry, big bro. I’m not even interested in Jax. I would rather be in the hotel room in my pajamas than going out right now.” I find minimal appeal in attending a fancy dinner, unlike my brother who lives for this life, with crowds of people feeding his energy. He loves the glam and glitz of the F1 community. But me? I prefer a cozy life of snuggling up with a good book or a new TV show.

I shudder at the thought of him hooking up with other girls. Damn, Sophie, why did you have to tell me about that?

“Fine, but try to be back here before midnight. I won’t be able to fall asleep thinking you’re out there with them.” He doesn’t have to tell me twice because I like midnight bedtimes.

The last thing my brother hears is my laugh as I exit the hotel room, the door thudding behind my back. My eyes meet Noah’s as he exits his room.

Seriously, he stays on our same floor?

These run-ins are becoming way too common with us. It concerns me since I feel like he’s wearing me down, little by little.

His gaze explores my body before he closes his eyes, his lips moving like he’s saying a silent prayer. His reaction tells me I get a gold star for the red dress choice.

I giggle at the sight of him being rattled, which is so unlike his usual calm and collected self.

“Going somewhere?” His blue eyes reflect two dark pools. My breaths shallow as his eyes rake down my body again. He follows me to the hotel’s elevator bank, meeting my strides, step for step.

I take a deep breath before I respond to him. But I realize a little too late how much of a terrible idea it is as his smell engulfs me and makes my brain foggy.

Clean, fresh, bone-jumping worthy.

Another deep inhale before I speak. “Yeah, I’m going to dinner since we have a free night and all.”

Wednesdays are relaxation days for crew and people like me who don’t have to do too much.

He presses the elevator button and turns toward me. “Few and far between with such a busy race schedule. Who are you going to dinner with?”

All right, back to asking about the date.

“Sophie, and uh, Liam…and Jax.” My execution is anything but smooth.

He remains silent as he checks out my outfit again, lingering on my legs before his eyes meet mine. I send a prayer for someone to get me out of here ASAP. The elevator takes forever, the lit-up button taunting me as I will it to come quicker.

“Hmm, I didn’t get an invite.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and scrolls through it, searching for an invite that never happened. I use the opportunity to check him out. Powerful forearms taunt me, on full display because of his rolled-up button-down shirt, along with jeans that hug his tight ass and muscular legs. His dark hair is slicked back, not yet disturbed by his fingers. My teeth bite down on my bottom lip to suppress a groan.

His lips turn down as he locks his phone, making me feel both satisfied and sad for him. Is it possible to have such a mix? Noah screws up everything inside of me, including my common sense.

I shrug at his response, playing it off even though my heart races in my chest. “Maybe they thought you were busy. We’ll be sure to invite you next time.”

We won’t because there can’t be a next time.

The doors open. Thank the Lord. We both enter at the same time, brushing against each other. My body responds to the physical contact, desperately wanting more, but my brain makes a wise decision to situate myself in the opposite corner of the elevator.

“Yeah, maybe. Where are you having dinner then?” He runs a hand through his hair, now messing it up like I knew he would. I smirk at his signature style.

“I think it’s called Bouquet. An expensive place I assume based on the outfits Sophie picked out.” I bring his attention back to me. Crap.

He coughs. “Hmm.” One word that has a heavy weight to it, stifling us in this stuffy box.

He remains silent for the rest of the descent. Air charges as movie scenes of couples hooking up in elevators flash through my mind. My body presses up against the side of the cart, my hands gripping onto the cool handlebar as I rid the dirty thoughts from my head. Our closeness and the delicious fumes of his cologne wreak havoc on my body.

He glances over at me one more time before the doors open up to the lobby and I dart out. I peek over my shoulder and give him a quick wave, my spine tingling at his devilish smile, feeling his eyes on me as I power-walk to the group. The glint in his eye and the smile on his face promise more.

That’s a problem for future me.

Damn, I coined my new mantra.