Jared leaned in close, so close I inhaled another delicious whiff of his masculine scent and fresh bodywash. I tried super hard not to breathe deeply. I wanted to close my eyes, bury my nose in his neck, and get my fill of him. It seemed my body wasn’t on board with the fact he was an arrogant prat and deserved a punch in his sanctimonious too-gorgeous face, not a damned come-on.
He stroked his chin. “Hmm, let’s see. I know you didn’t have a mother who was permanently exhausted from working two jobs just to put food on the table for her children. I know you didn’t come home from school to an empty house because your parents were out trying to hold down minimum-wage jobs so they could keep a roof over your head. I know you haven’t got a clue what it’s like to be told you have to stay quiet while the loan shark your mother borrowed from in order to pay for gas and electric bangs like hell on the door for money you don’t have, and you wonder if you’ll come home from school the next day to find your parents dead.” He went quiet and then murmured, “Once in a while, Princess Paisley, maybe take a look outside the privileged life you lead and realize there are those less fortunate who are simply trying to survive.”
He spun on his heel and marched down the hallway, leaving me stunned and trying to absorb the private snippet into his background that he’d just shared.
Jared Kane had a gigantic chip on his shoulder—and, by God, if it killed me, I’d prove him wrong.
Jared
I lugged my suitcase across the threshold of my London apartment. It had been a long few weeks testing in Spain, but I’d loved every single minute.
Well, almost every single minute.
Apart from the one crazy moment where I’d made a complete dick of myself in front of the boss’s daughter. The hot, feisty, tenacious, gorgeous, sexy-as-hell boss’s daughter who had been occupying my thoughts far too often as of late. Every second I spent in her company, I wanted her more.
Except I wasn’t going there.
Nope.
There was zero chance of breaking my ‘no rich girls’ code, even though Paisley was doing a damned good job of proving my preconceptions wrong. She was one of the most diligent mechanics I’d ever worked alongside; committed, keen to learn, and not once had I seen her run to Daddy for help. That garnered respect in my book.
Neither of us had mentioned the conversation after the press conference at the end of my first day testing. I half expected her to remind me of my assholery at every opportunity, but she hadn’t. She’d remained professional, if aloof. Yet instead of feeling relieved, her dismissal of me brought out my competitive side. The more she ignored the clear sexual tension between us, the more I wanted to force her attention.
It didn’t mean anything, other than I didn’t like to lose, regardless of whether the prize on offer was something I wanted to win.
I unzipped my suitcase and threw my dirty clothes into a laundry bag, leaving it to one side. I’d already arranged for some home help—me and household chores didn’t exactly mix—so as long as there were a few clean clothes in my closet, I didn’t care.
I wandered over to the window but didn’t step outside onto the small balcony. I’d been warned how cold England could get during winter, the freezing February day proving the point. I took in the view from the warmth of the apartment. This place cost far more than I wanted to pay, especially considering it only had two beds and one bath. Fear of returning to the humiliation of my youth, of standing in line at food banks waiting for a handout with a stomach so empty it could barely raise a growl, kept me from squandering my earnings. My reticence was definitely a psychological scar left over from childhood, although when it came to my parents and siblings, I’d buy them whatever they wanted. My extreme drive to succeed came from my desire to safeguard my family’s future, to ensure they never needed to worry about making ends meet again. They were my heart. I loved each and every one of them more than my own life.
Dan hadn’t bullshitted about London being expensive. At least I had a nice view of a nearby park. I missed the beach, though, and the weather in California, but London definitely had its benefits. Not that I’d managed to explore very much, but I hoped to rectify that in the next few days before I headed off to Australia for the first Grand Prix of the season. I felt more than ready to get started on my new career.
My cell rang, bringing an instant smile to my face. Noah. My best friend. We’d known each other since the first day of junior high, and I loved him like a brother. We didn’t get to see that much of each other these days, but true friends didn’t need the constant day-to-day contact to remain close. He’d wrangled a few days off work where he taught autistic kids back in Cali and decided to spend them traveling to London to see me before the season started.
“Fifteen minutes out,” Noah said. “Christ, the weather is shit in England. You’d better have beer. I need something to stave off depression.”
I laughed. “I thought we’d go out. See London. Dan’s recommended a club not far from my place. It’s members-only apparently, but he’s got us an invite. Somehow.”
Dan had a way of arranging things. I had no idea how. Nor did I need, or care, to know.
“As long as there’s hot women, it’s all good, brother.”
“Not for me,” I said despondently.
My self-imposed—and Dan supported— ‘no sex’ rule already felt like a fucking big mistake, especially as I’d gotten a pretty good handle on the car over the last few weeks. Sure, I hadn’t driven in a race yet, but it’d hardly be conducive to my state of mind if all I could think about was getting laid. I’d never been with an Australian girl. After I landed in Melbourne, I planned to fix that.
“More for me then,” Noah said.
“Supportive,” I said. “Bye.”
Noah’s bark of laughter reached me before I hung up. I took a quick shower and changed into a pair of dress pants and a black shirt. I left it open at the neck but stuffed a tie in my pocket in case the club insisted on its customers dressing a certain way.
Noah rapped hard on my door. Had to be him since I wasn’t expecting anyone else. Smiling, I flung the door open, pulling my best friend into a hug. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how lonely and cut off I’d felt since leaving Cali back in December, almost three months ago now.
“Christ, it’s good to see you,” I said.
“You, too. Gotta say, Jar, I have no idea how you’re living here. My balls have shriveled up to the size of raisins.”
I pulled a face. “Thanks for that image. Yeah, it’s cold, but I won’t be spending that much time here.” I rolled his suitcase into my apartment and placed it in the spare room.
“When do you fly to Australia?”
“In a few days,” I said. “I’m heading out before the rest of the team. I might as well see something of Melbourne while I’m there.”
“Good plan.” He rubbed his hands together. “Okay, let’s go eye up some English girls.”
Laughing, I slipped on a heavy overcoat and wrapped a scarf around my neck.
The temperature had fallen to well below freezing, and the rain puddles had turned into mini ice rinks. Burying my hands in my pockets and keeping my head bowed against the bitterly cold wind, we walked as fast as possible to the club.
I gave my name at the door and, after checking a list, the doorman granted us access. A guy in a smart suit slipped my coat from my shoulders, a second one tending to Noah. He handed me a ticket and put our coats in a nearby closet.
We were shown upstairs to the VIP area of the club. Loud music greeted us as the door opened. The place buzzed with energy, busting at the seams with young, rich people with too much time on their hands. To my left, a group of young men in their twenties were snorting coke through rolled-up bills. No one batted an eyelid. Clearly it was that kind of place.
We sat at our table and ordered drinks. The dance floor heaved with girls swaying to the music, their plunging necklines parading pert breasts, some real, some fake. Skirts that closely res
embled belts showcased legs that seemed to go on forever. Guys lined up at the bar, their hungry gazes zoning in as they decided which one of the women to approach first.
I scanned around. My attention fell on a leggy blonde in a dress that clung to her ample curves. She spotted me checking her out and tossed her hair over her shoulder, then whispered in her friend’s ear. The friend glanced over, and the two shared another few words then giggled. The blonde gave me the come-on. Subtly, but I was used to reading signals. It didn’t matter, though. She wasn’t my type—and I didn’t mean physically.
I turned away from the blonde, but not before I caught her look of disappointment.
Noah laughed. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”
“You know as well as I do that I wouldn’t touch one single female in this joint.”
“True. Unlike me. I like the taste of caviar every now and then.” He nudged me. “So, tell all. How’s it going?”
“Testing went well,” I said.
“Jack okay?”
I nodded. “He’s a great guy. In fact, the whole team are fantastic. Jack has certainly surrounded himself with the best of the best.”
Especially his firecracker of a daughter.
My groin tightened. Shit, hello hard-on.
I shifted in my seat, willing the damn thing to fuck off. My dick still hadn’t gotten the memo that Paisley wasn’t on the menu.
Not now.
Not ever.
The server dropped off our drinks, and I took a sip, the burn of scotch momentarily detracting from my hard-on. Paisley Nash was off-limits. The last thing I needed in my life right now was to get embroiled with a girl like her; even more so because of her parentage. Although that wouldn’t stop me if I wanted a crack at her. Which I didn’t. At all.
I was a great liar.
Especially to myself.
Noah tipped two pills into his palm and knocked them back with his beer.
“Back still not great?” I asked, concerned. Five months ago, Noah had been involved in a car wreck, a multiple pileup on the freeway. He’d appeared to escape unscathed, but a few days later, his back had started giving him trouble.
He shrugged. “It’s fine. Some days worse than others.”
“What are those?” I asked, jerking my chin at the pill bottle.
“Only ibuprofen. They take the edge off when it’s particularly bad.”
I squeezed his shoulder. “You want to go?”
“Fuck, no. I didn’t come all this way to lie on the floor of your apartment. I’ll be fine. A few beers should fix me up.” He offered up a wan smile, then stared across the room.
“How’s Rox?” I asked, sensing he wanted me to change the subject.
Roxy was Noah’s sister and the only person who’d ever come between us, albeit briefly. Back in our teens, we’d had a one-night stand, a mistake that both of us had regretted the instant it was over. Still, when Noah had found out, he’d been furious. He’d hit me. I’d let him. And we’d both moved on. I loved Rox dearly, but like a sister rather than a lover.
“She’s great.” He slapped his thigh. “God, I forgot to tell you. She’s moving to London.”
My eyes widened. “Really? When did this happen?”
“Couple of weeks ago. She got a job offer she couldn’t refuse. Boyd’s moving over with her, too.”
Boyd was Roxy’s boyfriend, a strange matchup considering they were polar opposites, but it worked for them.
“Wow. I’ll have to give her a call. See if we can catch up.”
“She’d like that.”
A flash on the far side of the club caught my attention. Jesus Christ.
Princess Paisley.
She’d surrounded herself with a group of friends, every one of them dripping in money from their expensive watches and the sparkling diamonds in their ears to the cut of their pricey dresses and designer suits.
I tracked my gaze over her smoking body, virtually poured into a burgundy dress that finished mid-thigh. She’d topped off her outfit with skyscraper heels that I was amazed she could walk in. Fuck me, her legs look amazing. They’d look even more amazing wrapped around my waist while I pounded into her until she got a concussion from whacking her head on the wall behind my bed.
I blamed my over-eager libido on the weeks of celibacy. It had nothing to do with Paisley, or the way the dress skimmed her hips, or her perfectly rounded breasts or…
Fuck’s sake.
My dick hardened even more—not what I needed—but I couldn’t stop gawking at her. The fates were conspiring to test my limits; I hoped I didn’t fall short. I shouldn’t be too surprised she’d chosen to spend her evening at a joint like this where the rich and famous hung out.
One of Paisley’s friends leaned over the bar and shouted in the bartender’s ear. He nodded and set out a row of shot glasses, filling them with tequila. I lost count of how many Paisley knocked back. I almost went over there to intervene, but as she wasn’t my responsibility—she was a grown adult—I remained in my seat.
Noah’s voice drifted away as my gaze tracked Paisley.
She sauntered onto the dance floor with her friends. Fuck me, she could move. Her skirt rode up, showing even more of those shapely, tanned legs.
Not funny.
I swore the gods had decided I needed to be taught a lesson, and chose to send it in the form of the delectable, tempting, provocative woman gyrating in front of my eyes.
A guy joined her. He leaned in and whispered something into her ear. She threw back her head and laughed, then brushed his arm and moved in closer.
My stomach hardened, and I clenched my jaw. Cold fury and the irrational compulsion to rush over and punch the guy swept through me; a completely alien feeling. It took a few moments to work out what that meant. When I did, well, I almost fell off my damned chair.
I was jealous of that fucker nibbling on Paisley’s earlobe.
Me, jealous.
Over a woman.
That had never happened to me before, so why now? And why with a spoiled little rich girl? Okay, she’d never acted spoiled in front of me, but somehow, I couldn’t leave behind my preconceptions, no matter how many times Paisley proved me wrong.
His hand swept across her ass, and I almost launched out of my seat. I wanted to rip it from his body so he couldn’t touch her.
What. The. Actual. Hell?
“Earth to Jared,” Noah said with more than a hint of sarcasm.
I dragged my gaze away from the scene setting fire to my fucking eyeballs. “Sorry.”
But I couldn’t help it. I returned my attention to her—and almost self-combusted. The guy had a tight hold around her waist now, and he was attempting to kiss her. She turned her face to the side, her palms flat against his chest, sending the clear message to me she didn’t want to get it on with this fucker.
“Be right back,” I barked. I scrambled to my feet and marched across the room, barging through the packed dance floor. My ears were assaulted with the odd “Hey” and even a “Watch it, dickhead”.
I grabbed the guy’s upper arm and dragged him off Paisley, planting my body between him and her. Aware of how I could get—growing up in my neighborhood you learned pretty damned quick how to take care of yourself if you wanted to survive with your teeth intact—I tried to rein in my temper.
And failed.
My hand zoomed in on his throat. “Touch her again and I’ll break your face.”
“Jared!” Paisley clutched my shoulder and yanked, but she was wildly tipsy, and I wasn’t. Plus, I had far more brute strength than her. I stood firm. Tightened my grip.
The guy gargled something incomprehensible. Not surprising. Hard to talk with your windpipe compressed.
“Nod if we understand each other.”
“Jared, for God’s sake.” She made another half-assed attempt to force me to release the guy.
A group of interested onlookers gathered, and I caught sight of security making their way over out of the corne
r of my eye. Noah stood off to my left, ready to jump in if I needed support.
I didn’t.
Squeezing harder, I demanded, “Nod, motherfucker.”
His head bobbed up and down. I removed my hand, and he clutched at his throat and coughed.
“You’re crazy, man,” he rasped between snatched breaths.
I gritted out a laugh. “You have no idea.”
Noah headed off the security guard, and I turned to Paisley.
“You okay?”
She planted her hands on her hips. “What the fuck are you playing at?” she growled.
Before I could answer, “Saving your goddamn ungrateful ass”, she paled, then swayed. I grabbed hold of her which, in hindsight, wasn’t my best decision. Instead of falling into my arms, she threw up all over my favorite shirt.
“Shit.” She wasn’t just wildly tipsy; she was drunker than a sailor on shore leave.
“Oh God,” she mumbled. “I’m—”
I didn’t let her finish, because I could see she was about to hurl again. I swept her up into my arms and marched over to the women’s restroom. Kicking open the door, I carried her into the first stall. The second I set her back on her feet, she sank to the floor, hugged the toilet, and puked. I bunched her hair into a ponytail and held it while she spewed up her guts. I decided to save the ‘this is what a gazillion shots of tequila does to your insides’ lecture for when she’d sobered up. I had no idea what could have brought on such a bender, but I’d take a guess it would be her last for a while.
After several minutes she unraveled some toilet paper, wiped her mouth, and collapsed onto the floor. Her head dropped into her waiting palms, and she groaned.
“Oh God,” she said for the second time.
If she wasn’t so wasted, I’d have a little fun, something along the lines of knowing I was a god… But now wasn’t the time for jokes. I stepped over to the row of sinks and tried to clean myself up. My attempts proved futile. I removed my shirt and stuffed it in the trash.
I turned around. Paisley hadn’t moved. I peered closer. Goddammit! She’d either passed out or fallen asleep. Either way, she wasn’t conscious.
The Full Velocity Series Box Set Page 4