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Too Late: Desired By The Rival Boss

Chapter 4 

Word Count: 1240    |    Released on: 08/10/2026

Summer

agged by in heav

er Racing's network hooks from my personal machine, mak

hone-the old work line I'd kept open for spo

area code flashed

bar and brought t

ny speaker, raw and furious. "Where the hell a

my ear, staring at the dust mot

esk, Grant?" I asked, m

dinner in four hours! Brooke needs you to pull up the high-altitude engine maps, and

ter laugh es

rd, Grant. Read the pap

a bag and play hard to get because I missed your birthday last night? I gave you

oice. "The free engineering support is over. If Brooke wants

't you dare

ed the

ce officials and independent spons

hrew the casing into the wall, and watched

jacket, zipped my boots, and rode i

d an entire city block

ormance tuning facility, but behind the sprawling corrugate

lickered behind b

in a neat, diagonal line out front-all

hadow of the loading dock, cut t

ctane racing fuel, burnin

ch stepped in front of the h

ed guests," he sai

d him the message o

d a radio clipped to his cut. "Ree

the speaker, low and unmistakabl

ved aside and o

as dim, washed

s were scattered around a battered

ol table. The prospect stayed by

t break

oncrete floor, my boot heels c

an Enforcer patch on his cut-jerked his chin toward a

g," the bart

ripped the brass handle,

metal shelving holding disassembled racing carbu

sed leather sofa beneath a

s sitting back ag

t wearin

scular forearms covered in intricate black ink, and his he

yebrow gave his face a p

d a lowball glass of ambe

n't st

sharp, gray eyes, tracking eve

, his voice a low, gravelly rasp

Whitmore," I said, stoppin

slow sip of

ked against

own, R

ng, my back strai

ialize. You said you had t

wn on the iron coffee

arms on his knees, his massive fram

dium," Chase said, his gaze pinning mine. "You packed your gear and rode straig

tional base. I have the intellectual property that decides who wins

s model current," I added. "His dashboard is showing

said. "You want my shop and my race crew b

d I can give you the pleasure of watching G

e you access to the dyno and the server room. If y

somewhere to s

tood up

broad width of his chest completely blocked

osing the distance between us until I co

ood, clean sweat, an

nd index finger catching the undersid

ough, firm, and

n my throat, but I

ht into his dar

him closer. "The business can wait until

s darkened

irk spread across

he whispered, his thumb b

tened

ck, his fingers tangling into my dark hai

rashed down

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Too Late: Desired By The Rival Boss
Too Late: Desired By The Rival Boss
“On my twenty-seventh birthday, my husband gave my job-and my seat on his motorcycle-to my half-sister. I'd spent forty-eight hours in the workshop making sure his racing team could win. She answered his phone and told me I wasn't pretty enough to keep. "Grant wants a face sponsors actually like," she purred. "I get the team and the glory." Apparently, I was still supposed to do the work. For four years, my calculations had won him championships. He took the trophies, the money, and the credit. Now he could find out what he could win without me. I signed the divorce petition, withdrew access to my private software, and rode straight into enemy territory. Chase Whitmore's territory. The president of Black Ridge Motorcycle Club. The man my husband hates most. Chase has the bikes, the riders, and every reason to destroy Grant Mercer. I have the talent that made Grant a champion. Together, we could take everything. But Chase wants more than a winning season. He wants me-and every kiss makes it harder to remember that this started as business. My husband says I'll come crawling back. Instead, he can watch me take his crown with his worst enemy at my side.”