Page 58 of Speed Crush

And that’s how I end up here. In the Mega Max.

I don’t know exactly where this is going to happen—only that it would. I just thought that if a couple could hook up in the garage the very first time Noah and I met, and if we almost did it in the simulator room two days ago, then yeah… this place has options.

Somewhere in this massive, echoing monument to speed and horsepower, there’s room for one very intense cardio session.

So, I texted Noah to meet me here after hours tonight, with no other instructions.

While I wait, I open and close doors like I’m casing the joint. Office, server room, janitor closet... nope.

And then I feel a pair of strong arms around me. Noah—shirt stretched tight across his chest; mouth already curved like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. He doesn’t waste time. Just kisses me—hard, greedy, like I’m already his—and steers me backward until my back hits a door.

It creaks open to reveal a mostly empty supply closet—with a lock, a few desks, chairs, a shelf I can lean on, and enough space to get very, very unprofessional. Yes, this is the room.

He kicks the door closed with his foot, the sound of the latch catching sharp in the quiet. Then he turns the lock, slow and deliberate. It clicks like a countdown.

His eyes meet mine, and the teasing fades. What’s left is heat. Focus.

He moves closer, backing me toward the nearest shelf. His hands slide under my top—no preamble, no hesitation—until his palms meet bare skin. My stomach flutters. "You smell nice, June." He says, voice low and rough.

His fingers skim the hem of my top, and he takes his time pulling it up and over my head. His eyes darken as he drinks me in, the strappy navy blue and gold catching the low light.

He slowly peels off his own shirt—deliberate, reverent—revealing those sculpted abs I’ve briefly seen and touched before. My mouth dries.

When he steps closer, he doesn’t reach for the clasp yet. He lifts his hand and drags his fingers from the top of my collarbone down the slope of my chest to the center of my cleavage.

"My heart almost burst the first time I saw you like this," he murmurs, voice wrecked. "Two days ago. In the sim room. When you let me taste you." He groans as he slides a finger between my breasts, slow and teasing. "June… the last 48 hours have been torture."

Now he reaches for the clasp. But his breathing goes shallow, uneven, like he’s barely holding himself together.

His blue eyes stay locked on mine, dark and heavy, overwhelmed by everything he’s seeing.

There’s no grin now—just a serious, reverent kind of smile that makes my whole body hum.

Then his hand spreads over my breast, fingers splayed wide, like he’s trying to see if he can even hold all of me. He squeezes gently, then deeper, groaning under his breath.

“Wow, June…” he murmurs, breathless. “You look so sexy with my hands barely covering you.”

He drags his fingers across the top again, circling around the softness with slow reverence. One finger dips into my cleavage. Then another.

And then he exhales, a shaky, reverent sound that curls around me. “I’ve thought about this every damn night.”

He finally finds the clasp, teasing it like it’s a puzzle he’s dying to solve. When it comes loose, he exhales again—this time louder, like it’s a victory he’s earned.

“Wow,” he whispers, eyes locked on my chest as the lace parts. “Your nipples…” His voice dips, breath ragged. “Your areolae are so soft, and your nipples—”

He moans, dragging his thumbs slowly across both peaks. “You’re sensitive, aren’t you?” he whispers, reverent. “I’ve seen them—pebbled under your hoodie, your shirts. You drive me crazy just imagining what they look like.”

I’m already throbbing, already pulsing. My whole body answers to that sound of his voice.

I can’t help it. My lips curve in a slow, wicked smile. “Now you don’t have to imagine. And if you keep touching me like that, I might forget how to stand.”

That heated look on his face, the way his eyes drag over my bare skin like it’s something holy—his chest rising fast, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip—it makes every inch of me ache.

And I want him to hurry.

I want him to take me now.

Before I change my mind.

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