Angels from Hell: A Biker Erotic Romance Read Online Free Page B

bike to a smooth stop. “You have a watch with a second hand?” he asks over his shoulder.
     
    “What?”
     
    “This is the start. Fourteen point six miles later we will pop out on this road again about three miles up. You want to time it and see how fast we can do it riding at a comfortable speed? Tell me when to start.”
     
    “You’re not going to kill us are you?” I ask.
     
    “No worries. Just a nice brisk ride.”
     
    I watch the seconds tick by on my watch. When the seconds click over to zero-zero, I slap Shep and say, “Go!”
     
    Shep accelerates briskly away. We hustle along the smooth but twisting road as Shep leans the bike into the corners, occasionally dragging something on the ground. I hold on tight. Afraid, but exhilarated at the same time. As we come around the last turn, I see the stop sign ahead and I look at my watch. The minute Shep touches the brakes, I mark the time. Sixteen minutes, thirty-eight seconds. As we roll to a stop, I give Shep our time.
     
    “Not bad,” he says. “Let’s see. That works out to…about fifty miles per hour. These guys will do it in about eight minutes.”
     
    “Eight minutes!” I exclaim. “If sixteen minutes is fifty miles per hour that means they are averaging over a hundred!”
     
    “That’s right. Charlie’s best time, since this started ten years ago, is seven-fifty six. That’s an average speed of one-ten point four.”
     
    I try to get my head around those numbers. We were only doing fifty, but it felt like a thousand. Going twice as fast must be terrifying. “Has anyone been killed doing this?” I ask just loud enough for Shep to hear me over the idling motorcycle.
     
    “Not in a long time. Not in the last five years, not since we have started getting organized.”
     
    “Anyone hurt?”
     
    “Yeah, we’ve had a couple of guys end up in hospital,” Shep says, seemingly content to sit on the bike and answer all my questions. “I won’t kid you, Claire. This is dangerous. All motor racing is, but we try to make it as safe as we can.”
     
    “And the cops don’t know about this?”
     
    “I’m sure they know. But, since we only hold this event a few times a year and not on a regular schedule, they either can’t catch us or they don’t try. There are only two entrances and we post lookouts. Everyone is in radio contact. If the cops show up, we let the riders know. They can’t bust us if we are riding the speed limit.”
     
    “You have it all figured out, don’t you?” I say sarcastically.  
     
    Shep looks back over his shoulder. “We try. But there is always the unexpected. Like last year, one of the riders hit a possum and crashed. He walked away from it, but how do you prevent something like that?”
     
    I sit, the bike quivering between my legs. “Let’s go. I want to talk to Charlie.”
     
    ***
     
    Shep and I walk into the house. Charlie is sprawled out on the couch watching some motorcycle race on the television. “If I ask you to not race the Mini-Man , would you not go?” I ask by way of greeting.
     
    Charlie sits bolt upright. “What?” he nearly shouts. “Did you tell her?” he demands, looking at Shep.
     
    “Don’t blame him. I told him you told me. Just answer the question. If I ask you to not race the Mini-Man , would you not go?”
     
    Charlie is silent for a long moment. “I have to Claire. This is my big chance to start my own shop. Did he tell you about the shop?”
     
    “He did. He told me everything. You know you could be killed, right? You could die doing this.”
     
    “I could,” he admits. “I could also die on the way to work Monday. To be honest, I am more likely to die in a traffic accident than in this race.”
     
    I stare at him fuming. Charlie has always been stubborn and I know nothing I say will change his mind. “Fine!” I bark. “But there is going to be some changes around here. First and foremost, you start sleeping in your own bed.”
     
    “Yes