Supercharged Love(24)
“Have you told Sugar?” he asks, keeping his eyes to the front, concentrating on the road.
“No,” I choke out. That would be a big mistake.
“Are you going to?” His eyes shift to the side, and I shake my head.
“No. She doesn’t need to know. She’ll freak.” And I don’t need the grief. The less she knows, the better.
“It will be a one-time deal.” A small smile appears on Ryder’s lips but vanishes in the same second.
“What do you mean?”
“Not a lot of people repeat the race. That’s how we got in,” he says in an ominous voice. I turn to stare at him, my unease growing. The more I hear about this race, the less I like it, but the five grand jackpot tempts me.
Once he’s completed the circuit—which is a loop with a climb and then a curving descent. There are plenty of tight corners and only one stretch of straight road—he heads back to town, neither of us utters a word, letting the enormity of what we’re about to do sink in. Ryder wasn’t lying when he said it would be dangerous. The road is scary in daylight, but in the pitch dark and at speed … Even so, I can’t deny the excitement bubbling away inside me. And I know come Saturday night, any concerns I have will disappear as soon as I hear the engines rev and am sitting in the Subaru, adrenaline pumping through my system.
Chapter Twelve
When I turn up at the garage two nights later, Leigh’s expecting me. It’s become our thing. I stop by at night after everyone else has gone home, and she seems to tolerate my presence more. Most nights, I get a nod in greeting. It’s not the jumping into my arms and smothering me with kisses that I’d prefer, but I’m working on it.
Tonight, though, she barely looks up from my engine. And when she does, I know she’s on edge. I see it in the way her green eyes flash with annoyance before she turns her attention back to the engine in front of her.
“Whatcha doin’?”
“Trying to get these fucking spark plugs changed.” She pulls a wrench out of her pocket and bangs it against the offending spark plug.
“Whoa, no need to set about my engine,” I protest and watch as she leans her palms on the edge of the open hood and lowers her head. Taking deep, steady breaths, her ponytail falls to one side over her tense shoulders.
Unsure of what’s wrong, I take a step forward, hoping she’ll let me comfort her. Reaching out for her ponytail, I wrap her long hair around my hand and tug, exerting the slightest pressure. She turns but avoids meeting my eye.
“What’s up?” Slowly, I unravel my hand from her silky smooth hair, but she refuses to answer or even look at me.
“Leigh?” I ask again. Watching as her chest rises and falls rapidly, she’s either trying to keep a lid on her temper or working up to say something.
“Hey.” I tip her chin upwards with my finger, forcing her to look at me. “Tell me,” I urge, and she jerks her head to the side, eyelashes lowered so they fan out over her smooth cheekbones. I’ve seen Meghan wear false ones, but Leigh’s are real. As if there was any doubt, everything about her is real. Her no-nonsense attitude and how she doesn’t fall for my crap.
I run my knuckles across the smooth tanned skin of her cheek and her breathing falters. As her chest heaves, it’s all I can do not to stare down her tank top. Cupping her jaw in my hand, I turn it and force her to look at me. After a small amount of resistance, she does but her eyes remain downcast.
“Speak to me, Storm.” Ah, I knew that would work. Her eyes flick up to meet mine but the initial flare of anger fades and is replaced by a different type of heat altogether. We stand, face to face, with our gazes locked. My palm holds her jaw, fingers at the back of her neck, and she doesn’t move as my lips lower to brush over hers. Her eyelids close, and she releases a soft sigh as the tension drains from her body. Seeing as she hasn’t pushed me away or kicked me in the balls yet, I keep going. Easing my tongue into her mouth, her lips part, allowing my tongue to stroke hers and she melts beneath me.
To my surprise, her hands begin to feel their way up over my pecs to loop around my neck and I move to her. A hand slides down the outside of her body. Tracing over every curve like I’ve wanted to since that first night, I keep moving until I reach her ass. Gripping it with both hands, I tilt her pelvis toward mine, not embarrassed when my hard dick presses back. She utters a small gasp, but her grip tightens and she pushes back. This is the first real indication that she could want me as much as I want her, despite her turning me down before.
I manoeuvre her to the side and reach behind her to pull open the door to my GTO. The need to hold her in my arms and not pressed up against a car grows stronger.