We make it back to the start of the track where she keeps the revs growling. ‘Do you have your phone?’ she asks.
I dig into my pocket, pulling it out.
‘Time this.’ She grabs the scrunchie around the shift and ties up her curls. ‘And give me a countdown.’ The fucking orders tonight.
I open the stopwatch app, thumb hovering over the start button. ‘Three … two …’
Her eyes look forward, laser focused. Her grip tight around the wheel.
‘One.’
She shoots off.
Everything outside the car passes in a blur. Air blows through the open window, the ends of her curls whipping wildly around her face. But she doesn’t break focus. In fact, she’s calm. Her chest rises and falls with deep, even breaths only disturbed by the jolt as she changes gears. The numbers on my phone rise and I wish I could freeze every second that passes, because every beat on the clock is time that I get to drink her in.
At the end of the straight, I hit the stop button. The Mustang skids along the dirt, taking longer to find traction and come to a halt. When the crunch of gravel subsides, we’re left in silence so loud, my ears ring.
‘Nine seconds.’ I call the time, but she doesn’t care.
She lets out one quiet, steady breath. Her fingers loosen on the wheel, shoulders relaxing. She removes the scrunchie and lets her curls hit the headrest. Then she lazily rolls her head to face me.
‘There’s a thrill. There’s a risk,’ she whispers, ‘but you tell me what you feel right now, and tell me that’s all there is. Tell me you don’t feel closer to Jace.’
Hearing his name jolts all my senses, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s right. It’s not just the speed or the threat of danger and death; it’s the connection. The thrill of being alive and the fear of ending life taste the same. And for us, it goes beyond the car. Whatever the fuck we’re feeling right now is also what connects us. And Jace.
I lean across the console, close enough that the warmth of her sinks into my skin. Breathing her in, her sweet scent oflemons mixes with the vintage leather and methane outside, making me delirious. ‘You want to know what I feel?’
‘Tell me.’
‘I feel like …’ I reach up, tracing her jaw with my thumb, delighting in the small shiver that trembles beneath her skin. ‘She might be purring, but she’s desperate to scream.’
She whimpers, the sound so fucking delicious, I want to suck it from her lips and jam it down my throat. Her pupils dilate and a flash of lust ghosts across her chestnut eyes. I run my tongue along the backs of my teeth before biting down, letting the taste of copper invade my mouth, trying to find some form of restraint.
‘I feel like she’s holding back.’ I get closer. ‘I feel like she doesn’t trust where she’s going.’
Our lips scarcely brush, but my mouth burns with heat all the same. I grasp her neck, letting her pulse thrum underneath my thumb. It’s hammering.
Her eyes drop to my lips. Those chestnut eyes are wide with emotion, like she’s battling her own thoughts. Shock. Denial. Desire. I nudge her chin with a single finger, bringing her attention back to my gaze. I need her eyes. I search them, asking for permission. Begging.
‘She’s got more.’
Her hands reach up, cupping my face, both pulling and pushing away, but the want is clear. Delicate fingers weave into my hair, giving a delicious, prickling tug. I think she might kiss me, but suddenly she pushes against me and pulls away, unbuckling her belt and reaching for the handle. The cabin shakes as the door opens then closes, leaving me the vehicle’s lone occupant.
‘She’s also got good brakes,’ I mutter.
I get out and follow my girl, rounding the hood to stand next to her.
I pull the cigarette from behind my ear and reach for my lighter, groaning as I remember she’s stuffed it in her pocket. I expect her to taunt me with it, but instead, she leans into me, reaching up on her tiptoes between my legs. Her eyes lock with mine as she plucks the cigarette from my fingers.
A sneaky grin takes over her beautiful features as she hooks a finger into my jeans pocket, dangerously close to skimming across my dick. She drops the cigarette in along with my lighter.
When did my Little Suspect get so bold?
‘Do that away from me. It’s weird seeing you smoke. Besides, second-hand smoke danger is a real thing. I shouldn’t have to suffer just because you want to kill your lungs.’
‘Yeah.’ A small laugh of disbelief escapes me. ‘You shouldn’t have to suffer because of me.’
The energy between us shifts and softens. Gianna looks at me like I’m not really in front of her. Like she’s missing me.
