Micah nodded.
“I gotta get back to Dupree’s.”
They walked through the darkened club and Cynthia winced when Chris opened the door. She pulled out her sunglasses and slipped them on.
“You’re sure about this?”Chris asked.
Without hesitating, she nodded. “Yes. One way or another, they have to move on. And even if Evan doesn’t step in, May is a sub. She needs this.”
Five days. Close quarters. It’s enough to drive any woman crazy—or into submission…
Reaction Time
© 2008 Alannah Lynne
Nikki Kincaid carries her smart mouth and in-your-face attitude like other women carry mace. But the sharpest parts of her razor tongue are reserved for Adam Guthrie, a man who sparks her body’s reaction time quicker than a green light. That out-of-control response terrifies her, because control is her middle name.
When someone starts sending Nikki threatening letters, Adam jumps at her brother’s request to help protect her—whether she likes it or not. For the past year and a half he’s been watching her, analyzing her body language and cutting remarks, and has come to one definitive conclusion. She’s a sexual submissive in hiding.
Five days in close quarters is exactly what Adam’s been waiting for—and Nikki’s idea of hell. Bringing her deepest desires to the surface will be the greatest challenge of his life. And, if he succeeds, his greatest reward.
Warning: This title contains some dominance and submission, some light bondage and some sexy scenes that’ll make you want to lose control.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Reaction Time:
Nikki Kincaid shook her head, almost feeling sorry for the kid in the piece-of-shit Honda next to her, revving his engine and signaling he wanted to race. She knew she shouldn’t accept his challenge. Street racing was dangerous, plus the pesky little detail that it was illegal. But dammit, it was fun.
And she wanted to have a little fun for a change.
Did the kid honestly think his one-hundred-and-fifteen-horsepower Civic could compete with her Shelby GT500? The power of her Mustang alone would leave him sitting at the light wondering what happened. Considering she had one of the fastest reactions times in the NHRA Pro Stock Drag Racing Series, when the light turned green she’d be a quarter mile down the highway before he could blink.
She sighed. Three years. That’s how long it had been since she’d had any fun. That’s how long it had been since racing stopped being a choice and instead had become a job that carried an overwhelming responsibility. That’s how long it had been since racing ceased to be her true love and passion.
But this little race would be like before—fun.
She glanced around, checking to make sure there were no other vehicles in the way and no cops. Well, none other than her irritating passenger. Looking out the passenger window, she nodded once to the kid before returning her attention to the stop light. “That car sounds like a pissed off bumblebee,” she muttered beneath her breath, unable to believe the kid truly wanted to race.
As the word “race” hit her brain circuitry, her body instinctively took over. Her left hand clenched the steering wheel while the fingers on her right twitched on the Hurst shifter. Her left foot mashed the clutch to the floor and the toes on her right flexed with the anticipation of stomping on the gas pedal.
She flicked a casual sideways glance to her passenger, Adam “Tight Ass” Guthrie, off-duty detective and friend to her brother, Nate. Head bent over, eyes focused on the threatening letter she’d received that morning, he was oblivious to the kid next to him or the launched gauntlet.
Nikki smiled as she considered the added bonus to this race. Tight Ass was gonna shit a brick.
He would probably lecture her on yet another of her obligations—acting as a responsible role model. He would probably make the three-hour trip to Richmond miserable. He would probably do that anyway, so she might as well go for it now and have her fun.
God, she could throttle Nate for insisting she have a weekend babysitter. The threats she’d received, the ones suggesting her health might fare better if she didn’t race anymore, seemed relatively harmless. But her ever-watchful big brother insisted she have protection. Tight Ass agreed with Nate’s cautious attitude, damn her bad luck, and had volunteered to take a couple days off to accompany her to the drag strip.
Unfortunately, he was the last person she wanted to spend five days with.
Maybe if she made his life hell he’d pack up and leave. Then she wouldn’t have to deal with him or the mix of unwelcome emotions his presence stirred in her.
The left-turn lane got the green arrow and she zeroed in on it. Watching. Waiting. As soon as that light turned red, she’d get the green light.
Yellow.
Adrenaline pumped through her veins like it always did at the starting line of a race.
Red.
She popped the clutch and mashed the gas at the exact instant her light flicked green. Tires squealed and her body slammed backwards into the seat from the forward thrust.
Second gear.
Third gear.
The kid was still sitting at the light and she burst out laughing, imagining his face. Eyes wide, mouth dropped open. Friends in the car laughing their asses off at the spanking he’d just gotten.
Fourth gear.
Fifth gear.
She cut her gaze to Tight Ass’s fingers embedded into the dashboard. He was wearing an expression she imagined was similar to the kid in the car. Pure shock.
She threw her head back and enjoyed a rare, roaring laugh as she slid the shifter into sixth and eased her foot off the gas. One hundred ten was probably pushing it.
“Stop!” her passenger demanded.
She bit into her bottom lip to squelch the laughter and continued to let the car coast to a slower speed.
“Stop the fucking car. Now.”
“All right. All right. Give me a sec to get to the exit.” With feigned concern and a lot of humor, she asked, “Do you need a men’s room, or is the side of the road okay?”
His lip curled back in a snarl.
Holy shit. Eyes wide, she sucked in a startled breath. Much to her surprise, and dismay, Tight Ass was even hotter all riled up.
She stopped on the side of the road and as she shut the car down, he shot out of his door, circled the car and yanked her door open. He grabbed her arm and jerked her from the car while she fought to shake him loose. “Let go of me,” she yelled.
Snatching off his sunglasses, he got nose to nose with her and snarled, “You ever pull a stunt like that again and I’ll kill you myself.”
Several things struck her at once—his impressively broad chest, his strong shoulders and his incredibly thick neck. I wonder if he has hair on his chest or if it’s smooth and lickable. She swallowed hard and swiped her tongue across her bottom lip. It was impossible to tell through the loose-fitting knit shirt, but she did know one thing. His lips, now pulled into a thin, tight line, were definitely kissable.
Dear God, what am I thinking?
This was why she avoided him. He confused her. His overbearing personality and often alarming intensity scared her. Despite that, with nothing more than a heated look, he made her body hum and purr like a well-tuned engine. And right now she wanted to strip and lick him like a Tootsie Roll Pop.
She pulled her gaze away from his mouth and looked into his eyes. She’d always considered her chocolate eyes dark, but his were black as lumps of coal and equally cold. Completely devoid of any emotion.
Her stomach dropped and her chest ached. Seeing him remain completely unaffected while she suffered through a heat wave, hurt and pissed her off. However, she’d never allow him to know it, so she hid her hurt the only way she knew how, with her smart mouth and in-your-face attitude.
She pushed her breasts forward until they were pressing into the fabric of his shirt. “You’re supposed to protect my body.” She pressed against him harder. “Whatcha gonna do? Handcuff me
so I’ll behave?”
An intoxicatingly predatory smile shattered his hard expression and he leaned in close to her ear. “Be careful what you ask for, sweetheart,” he threatened, the raspy rumble sending warm breath down the side of her neck and a cold shiver racing down her spine. “You might get it.”
Nikki fisted her hands at her sides and fought the urge to grab onto him as his spicy scent, hot body and gravelly voice filled her with a disturbing sensation.
Desire.
Reckless, nearly uncontrollable desire.
While Nikki searched for words—something she never, ever had to do—he hooked his fingers under her elbow and led her around to the passenger side. Opening the door, he said, “I’m driving from here on out.” Then he unleashed a smile that reeked of wicked intent and self-assured arrogance. “And I’m betting you learn to behave even without the handcuffs.”
A Little Harmless Lie: Harmless, Book 4 Page 22