Page 20 of Racer

“Last chance to back away, angel,” he murmured, his tone softer now. Almost teasing.

I was so tempted to give in and take the distraction he was offering me, but a little voice in my head reminded me about what we’d just discovered. I couldn’t help but wonder if kissing him while my brother was fighting for his life would make me a horrible person. Or if what happened to Mason was the reason I should go for it. Because I’d been given a rough reminder that life was too short.

Swallowing hard, I pushed off the car and tried to force oxygen back into my lungs.

The air between us crackled, too charged for comfort. One wrong move, and we’d go up in flames.

7

RACER

Her blue eyes were dazed, and her lips parted just enough to tempt me into madness. I stared at her pulse kicking at her throat, fast and fluttering like she was seconds from bolting. Or begging.

I was barely holding on by a thread, so I didn’t give her the chance to decide.

I yanked her to me by the front of her coveralls, crushed my mouth to hers, and let everything I’d been holding back flood out of me like a fucking tidal wave. I swallowed her gasp as her hands went instinctively to my chest as though she was going to push me away.

But she didn’t.

Instead, her fingers stroked up and down my chest.

Fuck.I was about to lose every shred of control I’d been clinging to.

Nothing about the way I kissed her was soft. Nothing hesitant. It was filthy, hungry, and desperate. My breath was heavy and labored, the flavor of her clinging to my tongue like I’d tasted something forbidden and couldn’t stop going back for more.

Her lips were plush and warm, yielding under mine, and when I slid my tongue across the seam of her mouth, she opened for me on a breathy sound that had my cock pressing against my zipper.

My hand slid up her spine, dragging her closer. Her chest heaved, and her knees buckled just enough that I had to angle her back, pinning her against the Mustang’s fender. I braced one hand against the car beside her head, the other wrapped firmly around her hip, and my fingers curled possessively into the thick cotton fabric.

Fuck me, she was perfect. Mouthy, smart, and bold. But right now, she clung to me, arching her back and pressing her soft curves against me.

I slipped a hand between us and slowly lowered the zipper on her coveralls, overwhelmed with the need to feel her hot, silky skin. When it was halfway down, I leaned back to look down at her. My gaze followed the smooth line of her throat, down to the teasing swell of cleavage that made my brain short out.

She watched me through hooded blue eyes and licked her lips, making me groan. My fingers gripped her hip harder.

“What did I say about looking at me like that, angel?” I growled, voice rough and low, “Keep tempting me, and I’m gonna bend you over this car and make you forget every fucking name but mine.”

Her thighs squeezed together, and her breath caught. She whimpered my name as though it was torn from her lungs. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, and she let out a tiny, gasping moan that sounded like sin itself. Her hips involuntarily rocked into mine, her body practically begging to be filled.

I crushed our mouths together again, devouring her as if she were my first meal after years of starvation.

She gave me another needy moan, then shocked the hell out of me when she bit my bottom lip, sending lightning throughmy spine. I rocked my hips into her instinctively, making her gasp. That sass-meets-shyness edge of hers was doing dangerous things to my control.

“You’re killing me, angel,” I rasped against her lips, my voice gritty with restraint.

Her breath caught. “Then die quieter.”

I barked a laugh and fell even harder for her.

Sealing my mouth over hers once more, I kissed her slower—and dirtier. I explored her mouth as though it belonged to me, like I had every right to learn the shape of it, every moan she made, every tremble of her lips. My free hand slid down her hip, fingers flexing as I gripped her ass.

Then my mouth dipped, trailing down her neck, my stubble scraping against soft skin as she arched into me. I muttered her name against her collarbone, tasting the salt of her skin before I moved lower. My lips glided along the curve of one breast, then I dragged my tongue along the edge of her bra until she let out another one of those shaky little breaths that sounded like surrender.

She shifted restlessly against me, and the scent of her—engine grease and something warm and womanly underneath—hit me hard.

I needed her under me.

On top of me.

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