“Let’s make this interesting, yeah?”
Christopher gives me a wolfish grin, male ego and misplaced confidence oozing from his driver’s seat. Our headlights illuminate the road ahead, a dark twisted path separated by a single yellow line.
“Down the valley, pass the convenience store then loop back to the gated community. First person back at this light wins.”
Anticipation rolls off him in waves, an electric excitement that washes across the pavement and crashes into my side of the road. We’re close enough that I can see the dark glint of his eyes, the pale illumination of his skin beneath the unkept state of his hair.
Thick. Messy. Wild.
“Let me guess. Winner goes home with bragging rights.”
“Bragging rights? Darling, we can do better than that.” His smile widens, feral and sharp enough to prick my little finger, “Winner goes down on the other person.”
I hum with approval, feeling my pussy throb in unison.
“I do love seeing you on your knees, Devil.” A purr creeps up my throat, “But how about we raise the stakes? Winner gets tofuckthe other person.”
The England import has him sitting on the wrong side of the road. His steering wheel on the passenger side and his gear stick on the left.
We’re sitting eye-to-eye, shoulder-to-shoulder.
Close enough to touch, far enough to tease.
Maybe that’s why the rumble of Christopher’s laugh rattles my bones far more than the powerful engine beneath me.
“Miss Drache, are you hoping to play with my ass again?”
“Oh, I’m not hoping baby.”
It’s a coy response and it sets him off again. Head pressed back against his leather seat, throat exposed, Christopher lets his mirth spill from his vehicle into my own.
So vulnerable yet so free.
Caught in his joy like a bystander desperately soaking in the lingering rays of a sunset, I feel the droplets of his warmth cling to me. Cling and dangle dangerously along the surface, begging not to be brushed off.
Tearing my gaze from the man next to me, I force my eyes back onto the road ahead. The red light that’s counting down the seconds until my foot hits the throttle.
“Is that what you’ve been thinking about? Finding new ways to bend me over so you can have your wicked way with me?”
I snort, flicking a dismissive glance his way, “For a man who believes himself capable of winning this race, you are doing everything in your power to distract me.”
“Is that a yes?” He chuckles softly, “I don’t mind if you do, darling. There isn’t anything you could want that I won’t let you do to me.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Devil.”
A smirk eases its way across my face, the rev of my HEMI engine growing louder with each passing second. Turning the knob of my stereo, music blares out of the speakers, trying and failing to mask the roar of the metal beast.
“You’ve got a gorgeous taste in cars but your taste in music leaves room for improvement.”
His shout barely makes it over the 5.0 Coyote engine purring to life. A symphony of sex and reckless decisions, it’s the kind of engine that could convince a girl to drop her panties before the race begins.
“This is Elvis, baby. Learn to appreciate the classics.”
"I hate to break it to you, darling, but that isn't a classic." He reaches over and turns his stereo exactly one degree above mine, “Thisis a classic. Now we’re talking.”
“Are you gonna take me home tonight? Oh, down beside that red firelight.”
I roll my eyes, fighting the grin that’s threatening to spill across my cheeks.
