They blew through a short straightaway, then he braked into the next turn. She glanced at the speedometer as he came out of it. Sixty. Then he jammed his foot onto the accelerator on the long straightaway past pit row. She didn’t see Jeremy. She couldn’t make out faces or even bodies, there was just a blur. By the time the speedometer hit one-twenty, she was pressed fully into the seat, one hand on the door, the other wrapped around the harness so her neck wouldn’t snap.
And they were flying.
Flying so free that she closed her eyes, and there was only the sense of speed, the rush of wind, and the shriek of the motor.
She was high. She was wild. She needed Will to touch her, but he couldn’t take his hand off the stick shift. And yet he was so close she could feel his heat beside her as if it were burning right off the engine.
Speed was the drug. Will was her pusher. She’d wanted to control the habit, but she was starving for more as she shouted, “Do it again.”
And he did, taking her around the track over and over, until she was nothing more than hot skin, hard bone, and exhilarating, utterly breathless sensation.
* * *
Later, Will had taken Jeremy around again while Harper watched. She’d stood on the sidelines, vibrating like voltage through an electrical wire. Will had felt the same, his body charged, his skin sizzling to the touch, his heart hammering in staccato beats.
As for Jeremy, he’d chattered like an excited squirrel. Speed affected them all. And when her brother said he wanted to drive back in Leland’s truck to Will’s house, where Mrs. Taylor was waiting for him, so that they could talk cars the whole way, Harper agreed readily.
Now, Will and Harper were headed up Highway 1 alone, the others out of sight. “Were you scared on the track?”
“Terrified.” But even now, he could hear—could see—the thrill flowing through her.
He’d been euphoric. He never raced other cars on the track. He was always racing himself. But with Harper in the car, he hadn’t felt like he needed to outrun his past anymore. She’d heard it all. And she was still here beside him.
For the first time ever, speed had been just for fun, rather than the need of a junkie desperately taking his hit just to make it through to the next day.
He touched her hand in the close confines of the car and he heard her breath hitch at his touch. Even her skin seemed to be humming with electricity as she suddenly said, “Take this exit.”
With nothing more than three small words, she flipped his switch, turned him on, powered up his engine. Which was exactly what he knew he’d done to her every time he’d pushed his foot to the floor and blown past her speed limits.
He finally saw the same thing she had—a motel, one of the better chains, but nothing like his usual luxury.
“There,” she said, pointing. And it required only that one husky word to throw him nearly to the edge.
He took the exit.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“I could have paid for the room.”
“No.” Harper had gotten a great deal of pleasure out of charging the bill on her credit card. It was fun, as if she were having an illicit affair with a slick race car driver.
All she’d thought about in the car was getting her hands on him. And his hands on her. The moment the door closed behind them, she fisted his shirt and pulled his head down to hers. Her blood was on the boil as she kissed him—deep, wet kisses that made them both desperate.
“Did you bring a condom?” She couldn’t believe herself—Miss Timid making demands. Taking charge. Better than that, feeling totally comfortable doing both those things.
He patted his back pocket. “Always prepared, just like a Boy Scout.”
“You—” She tapped his chest. “—were never a Boy Scout.” Grabbing his shirt again, she turned and dragged him to the bed. “You’re a road warrior.” A fire flared in his eyes, one that she knew had to match the fire in hers. “My road warrior.” With the flat of her hand on his chest, she pushed him down onto the mattress. “And I want you bad.”
The curtains were closed, the room dim, and his eyes were as dark as blue midnight. And hot.
“Not as bad as I need you, sweetheart.”
Harper slid out of her sandals and climbed onto his lap. With her thighs along his, she slid down hard against him. His hands on her butt, he hauled her even closer, until every ridge and bulge enticed her through their jeans.
God, she loved the feel of him. The hard muscles, slick skin, delicious mouth.
“I want to ride you the way I rode the Cobra today,” she said, her lips almost touching his. “Only I want your hands, your arms, to be the straps keeping me safe.”
“Jesus.” His breath caught in his throat as though even the idea of her being on top was too much for him.
She bit his lip. A love bite. Then leaned down and practically jerked the T-shirt off him. If she could have had him in the car at high speed on the freeway, she’d have done it. This was the next best thing.
They tore at the front of his jeans, Will undoing the button, Harper sliding the zipper. She stepped back onto the carpet to let him get rid of everything and swiped her T-shirt over her head. She’d never gotten naked so fast, and she didn’t even let him climb fully up the bed before she was on him again.
Her hair fell forward, cocooning them. “You made me crazy in the Cobra on purpose, didn’t you?”
He grinned a Who me? smile. But then his expression grew serious. And loving. “I want to give you everything,” he said in a voice made raw with desire and emotion. “Everything you want. Everything you need.”
The next thing she knew, he’d sheathed himself. In one desperate move, she took him fast. Hard. And oh so right. The rush shot to her brain as he gripped her hips, arched, and went so deep there wasn’t any part of her that wasn’t filled with him.
His skin was hot, his body hard. She was soft and liquid.
They were a perfect match.
“Harper.” He looked up at her and let her see all the way into his soul. “What you do to me—”
She reveled in the sweet sound of his surrender. Bending to the tattoo on his arm, she licked it, her tongue rasping like a cat’s on his flesh. “Mine,” she whispered. “Road Warrior.”
She lay flush against him and claimed his lips with another kiss. They were one, mouths locked, bodies fused. She took his tongue into her mouth the way she’d taken his hard flesh into her body, then angled her head for his kiss and circled her hips on him as Will groaned his pleasure again, a rumble against her breasts. She let him guide his hands on her—until she had to have more friction or she’d die without it.
She pulled back from his luscious mouth, his sweet taste, and planted her hands on his chest both to steady herself and because she couldn’t stop touching him. His skin was hot, his muscles hard. He forced her to a beautifully punishing pace, knocking the breath from her with each slap of their bodies.
She clenched around him. “Oh God, Will, please. Please.”
He was so beautiful beneath her, his face taut, his hot eyes owning her. All her emotion welled up her throat, her cries spilling over. But she didn’t care about the unladylike sounds she made. She didn’t care that sweat turned her skin slippery. She didn’t care about anything but the feel of him inside her...and the sound of his voice as he said, “I love you.”
Again and again and again.
* * *
Having smoking hot sex in a motel wasn’t why he’d taken Harper for a ride in the Cobra. He’d simply wanted to share the speed with her because he knew how much she loved it. But she was one surprise package on top of another, always revealing a new and different layer.
None was more surprising than the fact that she wanted the road warrior in him. For so long, he’d hidden that part of himself. He’d buried it with emotionless sex in the dark, always using his past to remain separate. But Harper had bared him. And accepted him. She’d taken him into that motel room—no luxuries, no gifts, no lies—and given over her whole self. He’d felt the gut-deep connection just the way he felt her thumb along the back of his hand right now as they headed home in his car.
He had one hand on the wheel, and one hand on her, as she said, “I want you to know I’m not like this with anyone else. Not ever.”
He knew there was no way she’d ever done those things with someone else. She didn’t have to tell him. She was in deep, just like he was...even if she still wasn’t ready to say those three little words back to him.
“I love everything about you, Harper,” he said first. And while she was still blushing, added, “I have to go to London for a couple of days. I’d like you to come with me.”
“I can’t take another day off so soon,” she was quick to say.
As quick as he’d honestly expected her to. Other women would have leapt at the chance to fly to Europe with him. But Harper wasn’t like those women. She was independent.
And still far too wary.
“Would the following week work better?” The plant tour he’d arranged could be postponed.
She found another excuse. “At this late date, a plane ticket would cost a fortune.”