Catch up with the WILD RIDERS! Three interconnected standalones from Elizabeth Lee.
There’s a thin line between love and motocross.
Reid Travers knows how to win. Becoming Motocross royalty was always the plan, and he was willing to make sacrifices along the way to reach his goal. Sacrifices he thought he could live with until he returned to the small town where he grew up and learned to ride, and, more importantly, where he fell in love.
When fate sends Nora Bennett back into his life, he takes one look at her and realizes that he made a huge mistake breaking up with her seven years ago. Now, he’ll do whatever it takes to win her back. As Reid sets out to earn her forgiveness and convince her that the guy she’s dating is not the one for her, Nora finds herself torn between what her head is telling her and what her heart wants.
It’s a race he never expected to be in, for a girl he can’t stand to lose again.
If they want to have a future, they’ll have to let go of the past…
Georgia Bennett likes to keep busy. So much so that sometimes it’s like she’s on autopilot. It’s the only way she can cope with the tragic loss of her fiancé and move on with her life. Between nursing school and volunteering at the hospital, she barely has time to breathe. But when the bad boy of motocross gets injured and needs her help, she can’t turn him down.
Brett Sallinger likes his women like his bikes. Fast. Uncomplicated. Replaceable. But when he finds himself forced to take time off of his professional freestyle motocross career to recover from a devastating injury, getting to know the guarded girl nursing him back to health becomes even more important than healing.
She’s suffered so much loss already and is terrified of getting close to someone with such a dangerous career.
He’s determined to bring her back to life and refuses to let her slip through his fingers.
With everything on the line they’ll have to decide if it’s worth the risk…
Chayse McCade learned along time ago that the only person she can depend on, both on and off the motocross track, is herself. Her parents disappointed her on more than one occasion and every relationship she’s ever had—platonic, professional, or romantic—has ended in disaster. When a sponsorship offer from Throttled Energy comes along she worries that it’s too good to be true. Especially when she meets the know-it-all riding coach they are insisting she work with.
Hoyt Travers is a lot of things. Level headed, discerning, intelligent, patient, or so he thought. That is until his new riding student rolled into his life. She’s wild, unpredictable, and gorgeous—all of which she uses to get under his skin in every possible way.
The two of them have undeniable, explosive chemistry that threatens to burn both of their dreams to the ground. Once Chayse lets Hoyt in, she can’t seem to keep her protective walls up anymore. Too bad there’s a hard rule about them being anything more than colleagues. Hoyt never steps outside the lines but Chayse will push him in more ways than one. Lines will be irrevocably blurred in the final installment of the Wild Riders series.
The rumble of dirt bike motors still made my pulse speed up and I wasn’t even the one racing them. Just being at the track made me feel like I was a part of it though. A part of the excitement. A part of the thrill. Sometimes I took pictures. Sometimes I just watched in awe of the athletes manipulating metal and rubber across the dirt. There was nothing sexier than a man on his bike, even all covered up with a helmet and riding gear. I knew the way his forearms flexed as he revved his bike and gripped the handles, and the way his thighs squeezed the bike tight as he took a turn.
I sighed and took in a deep breath trying not to look like I was about to go into heat. It wasn’t just any guy on a bike that did it for me either. One in particular was leading the pack on the final lap. Every other guy was trying to catch the one with TRAVERS on the back of his jersey.
I wanted to hate him. I wanted to leave that race and not care about watching him finish, but it felt like my feet were stuck in the mud. I was a slave to the race and rider. I always had been when it came to watching him. It was like watching someone do exactly what they were put on this earth to do. Reid Travers was made to ride motocross and I was made to be his number one fan. Even history couldn’t change that fact.
When the checkered flag flew and he took his victory lap—pulling off his goggles so he could stare out at the crowd—his piercing brown eyes found me and held onto me as he rode over to where I was standing.
“You came?” he said when he pulled of his helmet.
Not yet. The dirty thought that ran through my head resulted in my cheeks turning five shades of pink before settling on a deep red.
“Enough about him,” I said, taking my fingertips across the top of Brett’s arm which was laid out across the back of the couch. I traced along some of the black ink that laced his skin. Never in my life had I thought I’d be attracted to a guy with tattoos, but I was becoming quite a fan. Each one was a story that I couldn’t wait to hear about. The tire track and gears were self-explanatory, but there were other ones hidden in the design.
“What’s this one represent?” I asked, stopping on a simple star. I felt his muscles tense under my touch. Goosebumps splayed across his skin. I was glad I wasn’t the only one. Each time he touched me I wondered if he felt the same. Now I knew.
“Home,” he said. “The Lone Star State.” That made sense.
“And this one? Is it an acorn?”
“Yep, because I’m a little squirrelly.”
“Fitting.” I grinned at his ability to not take himself too seriously. I turned his arm over to read the line of text running down the center of his forearm.
When we let go, we are free.
“It’s true,” he murmured.
“I hope so.” There were so many scenarios in my life where I imagined those words were true. It was actually the letting go part that I was having a hard time with. I would keep trying though. I’d start with being more free with him.
“So what do you want to do now?” I offered up my most seductive smile. I wasn’t even sure if I was doing it right. I was definitely out of practice when it came to seducing a guy. I remembered what my sister said about it being okay to be selfish. Selfishly, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to touch him.
“For starters…” he said, leaning toward me. His fingers threaded in my hair as he pulled my face the rest of the way to his. His lips were on mine possessively. He kissed me until we were forced to break for a breath.
“You can’t even look at me now?” I couldn’t help myself from closing the distance between her. I didn’t want her to hate me. I didn’t want her to wish for time apart. Maybe I was an asshole, but I wanted her to know that everything I was doing was for her own good. “Chayse…” I said, reaching out and placing my hand on her waist. My self-control was wearing thin. I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t want to stop myself. “Look at me.”
“Why?” she said, finally turning her eyes on me. “So you can tell me to stay away from Link? So you can tell me to my face how much of a disappointment I am?” Her eyes were starting to gloss over and all I wanted to do was pull her into my arms. This is not what I had wanted to do to her. I wasn’t trying to break her. I was trying to make her better. “So you can tell me I’m blowing your big shot and mine too?”
“No,” I said, placing my other hand on her hip. “You’re not a disappointment.” My lips were dry as I watched her swallow. The tension in her neck was inviting. I wanted to place my mouth on her skin and take it away. “Far from it.”
“Then what do you want from me?” she asked, her voice sounded far more vulnerable than it ever had. I had her in my grasp and knew that I was holding something far more than just her body in my fingertips.
God, what did I want from her? I wanted her to blow the competition out of the fucking water—my brother included. I wanted to see her ride the way I knew she could, to see her smile what I knew would be a radiant fucking megawatt smile after she took that victory lap.
But right now, I wanted…
When I’m not writing or playing the part of wife and mom, you can find me dancing back-up for Beyonce, singing back-up for Miranda, or sunning myself on the beach with a drink in hand. Here’s the thing about being born and raised in a small town–you have a very vivid imagination! Now, I channel it all to create stories where the girl always ends up with the right guy, first kisses are magical, and a happy ending is just that!