Chapter 1

Ekaterina “Throttle Kitty”

Opening Scene – Thunder on the Highway

The Californian desert sun is blazing down on my tattooed arms and I am absolutely loving it. Sure, it gets hot in Russia where I am from but this is a whole different world. Sunshine, surf, mountains exactly what a biker girl like me wants.

Dust trails behind my powerful Harley as I open the throttle and let my blonde hair whip with the breeze. Some would say I am running away from my past. Fuck them is what I say.

Change of scenery is all I need and hell, my mom is now living in California for the last few years, married to my stepfather. I’ve not even met him except for the wedding. Then they left straight for their honeymoon. And also because my overbearing, strict father wouldn’t allow me out of Russia for longer than a few days. Asshole.

Yeah, I don’t have much respect for my father. He is part of the reason I left home and all my friends behind. Father has an organization and once I was part of it. Until I was betrayed by a male friend who gave my name up on a job and that cost me a lot of tough action by my father.

I wasn’t supposed to go it alone and work a joint but hell, I wanted my own power and turn. I am sick of being in the shadows of my father and three brothers.

I stop to admire the mountains that surround me with the sun slowly going down to wink at me goodnight. Removing my helmet, my blonde hair that I wear long spills out falling to my below my shoulders. I pop the helmet on my handle bars and shake my hair out. It feels so good.

From my water cannister I gulp down the still cold liquid and close the top on. I’ve got thirty minutes until I reach my mother’s place. May as well enjoy the rest of the ride.

Mom’s house is massive and sprawling behind iron, electric gates and a guard stands outside dressed in black. Honestly, she isn’t with my father anymore. Nobody gives a damn. He gives me a nod and presses the button for me to enter the gates.

My Harley roars and then I see him. The absolute biggest asshole that has ever walked this planet.

Jett “Maverick” Callahan is standing by his gleaming road bike, shirtless with more tattoos than in a parlor’s window. I can see his bulging biceps as he does something with the screwdriver in his hand at the fat tire of is bike. His back muscles run taut making me lick my bottom lick.

What the fuck? I hate the man. He is insolent, up his own ass and can’t leave pussy alone. Then he turns and his piercing blue eyes catch mine. There is hatred in them. Loser! His whole attitude as he gives me the once over. In return I give him my go2 don’t fuck with me stare.

Cocky bastard gives me a wink. Man, I could so knock that right off his face. He’s merely some kind of poster by for every kind of trouble I hate and don’t want to get involved with. He’s way too cocky for his own good, guess he would be since he is the head of his MC. He’s over territorial which I can sense by the way he is looking at me right now with indignation as he stands and folds his large arms in front of his heaving chest. Worse, he is impossible to ignore.

The man has more ink thank skin!

We have a show down, neither one of us diverting our eyes. Both of us arms folded in front of our chests, me straddling my bike, booted feet on the ground.

“Oh, Ekaterina you are here,” I hear my mother’s heavily accented Russian voice as she strides out of the garage wearing pristine white capri pants and a white, floaty shirt. Elegant as always unlike myself. Standard black jeans, standard black T-shirt with a skull on it. I own several of each.

“You have finally met your stepbrother, Jett.” My mother claps her hands. And where exactly did she appear from? Guessing she heard the bike come on up the drive, unless guard man at the gate buzzed her to announce my arrival.

“This is the best day for me,” she continues clapping her hands like some kind of kid in a sweet shop. “We are all family now. One big happy family.”

Maverick and I narrow our eyes and give each other a look, the one that says, fuck that shit! Then he opens his mouth.

“Guess the Kremlin exports bratty biker princesses now.” He chuckles. Seriously the man is a douchebag. My mom slaps him on the bicep.

“I’ll show you princess, asshole when I ride your dumb motherfucking ass to the ground,” I retort.

My mom’s mouth gapes open; she ought to close it or soon she’ll be catching flies.

Maverick throws his head back and laughs, I watch his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down wishing I didn’t find it quite such a turn-on. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Come in, darling. I will show you to your room then you can shower out of all that garb you seem to like wearing. I’ve put out a nice dress for you,” my mother says. The word dress brings me out in hives. I see asshole sniggering behind his hand held to his mouth.

“Fuck you!” I snap at him. It only makes him snigger more.

“You are a juvenile idiot,” I tell him as I get off my bike and grab my pack from the back. “Don’t even go anywhere near my bike, or I’ll cut your balls off, douche.” My voice is like ice.

My mother shrieks, “Ekaterina watch your language.”

“Hey, bike princess, you ain’t got it in you. Besides, that bike ain’t worth shit to me.” Oh, God I want to punch him right in the face. He is making my blood boil, but my eyes can’t stop staring at the well-defined body of his and those abs.

He sure can rock abs!