Page 337 of Rogue Riders Duet

I blink, startled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

But his eyes, they’re not angry. They’re hurt.

Shit, did I just fuck this up?

“Luc, you’re on the biggest, most stacked team in the circuit,” I say quickly. “You’re pulling six figures. You’re a superstar. People throw money at you to sign. I’d never ask you to give that up to join my half-baked idea. Our team isn’t even real yet. We don’t have sponsors. We don’t have a logo. We don’t have shit.”

“Petite.” His voice dips low as he steps in. His thigh slides between mine, pushing Pierre against my pelvis.

Fuck.

“I don’t give a fuck about money or status,” Luc whispers, teeth catching the shell of my ear, his tongue flicking over the spot he just bit. “I want you. And Mase. I want to be on your team. I always was, from the fucking start.”

His thigh rocks up, grinding the pecker against my clit, and I whimper.

“Do you want me, Alaina Crews?” he murmurs against my skin.

“I always want you, but⁠—”

“I’d drop my contract tomorrow. Go privateer, whatever it takes. You and him, that’s all I need.” His hands slip down to my hips, thumbs tracing just above my waistband. “And you think we won’t get sponsors if you’ve got Luc-fucking-Delacroix front and center? Alaina Crews rising from the dead with Mason Payne and me at your side?”

I shudder, my spine arching into him. “Luc⁠—”

“We’d own the circuit, bébé,” he growls, mouth dragging along my jaw. “Ask me.”

“Ask you what?” My brain is short-circuiting. No thoughts, just yes.

“I’ll sign my name on you tonight.” His hips roll into me, fingers brushing the edge of my binder through my hoodie like he knows. “Over your heart. Your thighs. Your neck. Between your legs while you’re moaning my name.”

I’m trembling now, my whole body aching, and I’m seconds away from begging him to strip me down and take me right here, trees be damned.

“I ask you again,” he rasps, mouth ghosting over mine. “Do you want me, Alaina Crews?”

“Yes,” I breathe out. “God, yes. Please sign for us, Luc.”

He pulls back so fast I startle, still dazed and leaning back against the tree, panting.

“Was that so hard?” He smirks, smug as hell, like he didn’t just obliterate my entire nervous system.

“What the fuck?” I hiss, legs shaking. “Luc!”

He kisses the tip of my nose like a menace. “I’d love to sign for your team next season. Merci for asking.”

And just like that, he turns to walk away.

“Oh, and, Petite?” he calls over his shoulder. “Fix your boner before you get back on track.”

I glance down.

Pierre is caught all wrong in my shorts, tenting them like he’s trying to fight his way free.

God. Fucking. Dammit.

TWENTY-NINE

“It’s just a restaurant.”

Mason is standing there in his black hoodie like we’re not about to walk into a room full of fans, phones, and probably a few rivals who’d love to catch me looking like shit.