"Thanks," I murmured, sliding the cash along with the fake ID straight down into the front of my red corset, tucking them securely against my cleavage.
Drakon's gaze tracked the movement, his eyes darkening as his jaw tightened.
Flashing him one last wicked smirk, I pulled the matte-black helmet down over my head, snapped the strap under my chin, and flipped the visor up to set my phone into the handlebar mount.
The Ninja’s engine roared to life with a sharp, aggressive growl that vibrated straight through the leather of my pants and echoed off the concrete walls of the underground garage. I flexed my left hand over the clutch—making sure my sprained wrist was holding up under the tension—and gave the throttle a quick, lethal twist. The motor whined back in pure approval.
At the far en
