SPEED RACER HAREM SYSTEM

Chapter 4: Rejecting Katalina

“Wow. You’re big—and you’re not even hard.” Her grin widened as she stroked him through his pants.

A sharp breath left Coyote’s lips. Apprehensive. Turned on. Caught off guard. It had been too long since a woman had touched him like this. Getting back into racing had been his only focus, leaving little room for distractions—except for the occasional lonely, frustrated night with his own hand.

This was unprofessional. Completely out of line.

He should stop her. Say something. Move away.

But as his body responded, the words refused to come.

“What do you say we take this somewhere private, champ?” Katalina murmured, pressing herself against him, her ample cleavage brushing his chest.

Coyote considered it.

He knew exactly where to take her—the staff restroom. No one would catch them there. His only coworker had quit two days ago, leaving him to run this dying auto shop alone.

It would be easy.

But just as he opened his mouth to suggest it, his gaze flicked to her left hand.

A wedding ring.

Coyote went still.

His expression shifted instantly, his desire snuffed out like a flame in the wind. He had a rule. No married women. And he wasn’t about to break it—not for anyone.

Katalina noticed the change and frowned. “What’s the holdup? Is there nowhere private around here?”

Coyote took a slow step back, putting much-needed space between them.

“No, there’s nowhere private.” His tone was clipped, all traces of warmth gone. “Your car’s ready. Full maintenance is done. You’re good to go, ma'am. That’ll be $500.”

He kept his eyes anywhere but on her.

A hint of irritation crossed Katalina’s face. “I thought we moved past the ‘ma’am’ thing. Why are you acting weird?”

Coyote’s brow furrowed. “Ma’am, I don’t know what you mean. I’m just being professional. Cash or card?”

Katalina narrowed her eyes and took another step toward him.

“Look at me.” Her voice dropped an octave, smooth and suggestive. “Don’t you think it’s good business to leave your customers satisfied?”

Coyote chuckled, but there was no humor in it. He glanced at her ring. “Even if that customer is a married woman?”

Katalina followed his gaze, realizing he’d noticed. Her expression didn’t change—if anything, she looked amused.

“Even if she’s married, she still deserves to leave here satisfied.”

She tilted her head, running a manicured nail down his chest. “Come on, I’ll even throw in an extra hundred bucks. What do you say?”

Coyote stared at her. Bold. Brazen. Unapologetic.

His stomach twisted in disgust.

He shook his head. “This isn’t a brothel, ma’am. I’m not a whore. Just pay for the work done and go home to your husband—poor guy doesn’t even know his wife’s a hussy.”

Katalina’s face darkened. “How dare you talk to me like that, you washed-up has-been? Do you even know who I am?”

At that moment, Jax wandered over, curious about the commotion.

Coyote let out a low laugh. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. If you were someone worth knowing, you wouldn’t be here—let alone throwing yourself at a broke mechanic for a quick screw.”

His smirk was sharp, cutting. “Now pay up and fuck off.”

Katalina’s face burned red, her anger rolling off her in waves. She yanked her purse open, pulled out five hundred-dollar bills, and threw them in his face.

Coyote let them fall to the floor.

She spun on her heel, storming toward her car, but not before hissing, “You’re going to regret this, you bastard. I promise you’ll pay for this.”

She climbed into her Mercedes, gunned the engine, and sped out of the lot.

Coyote smirked after her, making sure she saw it.

Behind him, Jax let out a low whistle. “Damn. And here I thought you were about to get lucky with that MILF.”

Coyote chuckled. “So did I.”

Jax folded his arms, grinning. “What stopped you? And don’t give me that ‘she’s married’ nonsense.”

Coyote shot him a look. “It might be nonsense to you, but it’s not to me. I don’t—and won’t—sleep with a married woman.”

Jax sighed dramatically. This was one of the few things they never agreed on.

For Jax, every hole was a goal, as long as it belonged to a woman.

“Man, you don’t know how lucky you are.” Jax shook his head. “You’re handsome, so women just throw themselves at you, and you get to pick and choose. I don’t have that luxury.”

Coyote smirked, punching Jax lightly on the shoulder. “Almost believed you—if you didn’t already have a girlfriend. Dude, cut the act. You’re just insatiable.”

They both laughed.

Jax rubbed his chin. “Still, if that woman had come on to me like that? Damn.” He grinned. “I’d have had her bent over the sink in the staff restroom by now, screaming my name.”

Coyote shook his head, amused. “You’re wicked. Have you forgotten you have a girlfriend?”

Jax shrugged. “So? I never claimed to be a saint.”

They shared another laugh before heading back inside.

*********

Night fell swiftly over Daytona Beach, the darkness stretching across the coastline, a stark contrast to the city’s bright lights.

Coyote finished his shift and headed behind the auto shop, where his only real possession—a red Chevy—was parked. It was more than just a car; it was a gift from Louie on his 18th birthday.

He’d thought about selling it more times than he could count. With his situation growing more desperate by the day, it made sense. But every time he came close to letting it go, something stopped him.

It was the last thing he had that reminded him of Louie.

He had sold nearly everything else, but the thought of parting with the Chevy? That was unbearable.

Coyote reached for the door handle, ready to get inside—

Then he heard footsteps.

He froze.

At first, he figured it was his boss, finally returning from God knows where. But when he looked up, he saw someone else.

A broad-shouldered figure was heading straight for him—fast.

Coyote’s instincts kicked in. Get in the car. Lock the doors.

He barely managed to slide into the driver’s seat before a strong hand clamped onto his wrist.

Yanked him out.

Hard.

The next thing he knew, he was hitting the ground, the impact rattling through his ribs.

“You like hitting people’s wives, huh? Let’s see how you like getting hit.”

A fist crashed into Coyote’s face.

Pain exploded through his skull. He curled up instinctively, shielding himself with his arms.

Through the gaps between his fingers, he spotted another figure. A woman.

Her face came into view.

Katalina.

Her lip was swollen, a bruise darkening her cheek—but she was smirking.

Smug. Satisfied.

“I told you you were going to pay for what you did to me, you bastard.”