by Nana Malone
"There's nothing wrong with trying to figure out a puzzle." She cocked her head. "What are we doing?"
"I swear, woman. Just go and get dressed. Cocktail attire."
"Cocktai—"
"Kisima, get dressed. Be ready in thirty minutes."
In thirty minutes, she had on a flirty, red jersey dress, with a skirt that flared when she twirled. She paired it with boots. He knew she probably couldn't manage heels yet. "Just tell me who's coming to see me already."
Derek rolled his eyes. "Where's your sense of spontaneity?"
"I save it all for my death-defying career."
"Fine. No one's coming to see you. We're going out."
She blinked at him, then blinked again. "Excuse me."
"You know. Out? Where we leave the property and go see other people and do stuff."
Kisima shook her head. "No thanks. You go ahead, I'm not interested." Her hands gripped the counter so hard that the veins stood at attention.
That look on her face, wide unblinking eyes, set jaw, the way her body leaned away from him as if he'd force her out. Oh shit. When TJ had said she needed to get out, Derek had assumed she was a little cooped up. Not that she'd be resistant. Or worse, fearful.
"Kiss, why don't you want to go out? I thought you'd leap at the chance."
"You thought wrong. Look, I'll just go get changed into my gear and we can work out like always."
"You don't even know where we're going. Come on, this will be painless and I promise you'll love it." He tried to take her hand, but her grip on the countertop was fierce. "Kiss, what are you afraid of?"
She swallowed hard. "I haven't been in a car since the accident. Transfer from the hospital to my apartment and to here was done by van with me lightly sedated."
He leaned back to stare at her. "Of course you have, you've been going to dinner with TJ. The other week when I met my brother, you got dressed for dinner. You said you had Italian, Busullo's."
"I dressed for dinner in the house with TJ and he had food brought in. We always eat at the house." She sucked in a breath. "I'm not being logical, I know this is totally weird. I know I need to get into a car. I was just sort of hoping to avoid it for a while longer."
He softened his voice. "I'll be there, okay, every step of the way. It's like I said, I'm not going to let you fall. And even if we fall together, I'll be there to pick you back up. Do you trust me? Kisima?"
She blinked those beautiful chocolate brown eyes up at him through thick lashes. “I don't want to do this."
"I know, but that's the same way you felt about rehab and look at you now. All you have to do is trust me and I'll make sure you're okay. Do you think you can do that?"
She rolled her lips inward and sucked in a deep breath. "I'll try. But I'm not making any promises."
18
Kiss was not going to freak out. Freaking out would solve nothing. Yeah, well, somebody better tell that to her galloping heart and rapidly shrinking lungs. She couldn't get enough air and she was going to pass out soon.
A driver waited in TJ's Mercedes S Class and Derek held the door open for her. It was one of the sedans with a divider. It didn't even resemble a sports car. She could do this. Just breathe. It will be okay.
Derek slid her a glance and started to close the door. "Screw it. We don't have to do this."
She put a hand on his arm. "Yes, we do," she practically shouted. With a sigh, she added in a quieter voice, "It's like with the wheelchair. I'm the one holding me back. I need to do this."
He nodded. "I understand. You know, you'll be okay. I'm here with you."
"Yeah, I know, but somehow that's not really helping right now."
His voice was mellow and calm. Just like he used when they were training. Low tones that hushed and soothed her. "I'm right here. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I have you, Kiss. I have you."
She nodded and forced herself to meet his gaze. His blue eyes were clear, focused, intense. He wasn't going to let her do this alone. He was here and she wasn't going to fall on his watch. With a deep breath, she slid in. He gave her a soft smile and walked around to slide in on the other side. He deliberately left her door open.
When he sat next to her, he took her hand and she breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks. Can you just talk about something else? Anything else. Please. It'll help me take my mind off of this." She reached out and yanked the door shut. It was like closing off her lifeline. This way, she couldn't run. To the driver, she said, "Go before I change my mind."
The driver nodded then put up the divider before starting off down the quarter mile long drive. As the scenery passed, she remembered how she used to love racing down here—when TJ wasn't home, of course. She and the boys had taken turns racing the cars for time. He would have killed them if he'd known.
"You're really brave, Kisima. I've never met anyone who works harder than you, who fights harder. You're amazing"
She clung to his hand. "Oh yeah, amazing, that's me. That's how I feel, clearly. As I hold on for dear life. Totally resemble a race car driver, huh?"
His grin flashed. "I think you're cute but I also know what you're capable of, so she's in there somewhere."
"Oh, now I'm cute?” She scrunched her nose. Because the fear was riding her spine and she didn't have the mental brain capacity to think through everything, she said, "Since I have you locked in the car and I'm terrified, I figure I might as well terrify you too. Why did you kiss me the other night?"
He stilled, staring directly ahead of him on the long stretch of road leading to the freeway. "Because you smelled amazing. Because, despite the rules, I couldn't stand to not kiss you anymore."
Oh, not what she'd expected at all. "Oh."
When he turned to face her, his gaze burned. "I think about kissing you all the time. I fantasize about it so much I couldn't believe it was happening. You taste like heaven. You make the best sounds. I loved sliding my tongue over yours, the way you tentatively kiss me back, a little surprised, a little curious. I have dreamt about your curves in my hands and how you would taste. I still dream about it. I want to know if you taste like honey. If your slick core will part for me easily. I wanted to use my fingers on you, my mouth, my dick."
The good news was, she forgot all about being afraid. The bad news was, now she ached for him, and all she could think about was how to get his lips on her again. He was right. She'd beg for it. No shame in her game.
He clenched his jaw tight and turned to look out the window as she was left to stare at him. For the next thirty minutes she watched him surreptitiously until she found some nerve.
The profile of his strong jaw, the stubble dusting over it, his lips. It was hard not to remember the way they'd pressed over hers, glided, taking, possessing her. The way his tongue had licked into her mouth and explored every inch of her.
She shifted her gaze to where their hands joined. Those hands had gripped her hard, cupping her against him—to the ridge of his erection. And she wondered how his cock would feel. There was too much fire between them for the sex to be a disappointment. If he touched her again they might literally go up in flames. And she loved the idea. "Derek," she whispered.
The muscle in his jaw worked as he turned to face her again. "I've thought about a million different ways to make love to you. None of them appropriate. None of them having to do with the fact that I'm your trainer. All of them having to do with the fact that I want you. That I have wanted you since I walked into that house a few weeks ago. You were stubborn and impulsive and you frankly scared the shit out of me."
She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "Why didn't you say anything? When you left me in the shower, I got the impression that you weren't too happy about what happened."
He scrubbed his free hand over his jaw. "I thought I was going to die from blue balls. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm your trainer and blurred lines have caused a problem for me before."
"So I'm just some blurred line?"
He shook his hea
d. "You're so much more than that."
***
Kisima visibly relaxed as they drove farther along. All Derek had to do was keep her talking. She still held on to his hand, but it was less of the death grip variety and more of the holding hands variety. Just her touch alone was enough to send charges of electrical current through his whole body and loosen his tongue.
He'd just fucking told her how he felt. Like some coed, loosened up with an Appletini. He had it bad. Really bad. And he was having a hard time keeping a lid on it.
Her eyes went wide with his last statement. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something. But then, the car pulled up to the red carpet entry point.
Kiss blinked rapidly as she took in the marquis. "This is the F1 Car Gala."
He couldn't help but grin at her obvious enthusiasm. "Yeah. I can't take all the credit. I suggested we reward your hard work and TJ suggested this. Said you loved coming every year."
She peered out the window with all the wonder of a child pulling up to FAO Schwartz's famed red carpet opening and he knew he was a goner. When it came to this girl, he didn't give a whit about his rules. "They have all the latest cars and some of them are out of this world. Some are up for auction. And all the proceeds go to charity. They even troop around some of the old time drivers. One year, they had Nicki Lauda. I was terrified to shake his hand."
"I heard he could be a bit of a prick."
She laughed as she unbuckled her seat. "That is not an inaccurate description. But then, he's still Nicki Lauda. I mean the man was a serious legend."
"He had to have been if even I know his name. He had a serious accident like you."
She shook her head. "My injuries were nothing compared to what he suffered. I mean the burns covered so much of his body. Makes me feel ridiculous for complaining about my back."
She never talked about her scars. They were barely noticeable. He'd seen them, of course, every time they were in the pool. But they were minor and localized. He had no idea they bothered her. "Remember, everyone's path to recovery is different. You can't compare. You've been through your fair share of pain."
She shrugged as she slid him a glance. "Do you mind if maybe we avoid the press line? I just don't want to deal with a lot of questions about my recovery and if I'm racing again." Her voice was softer as she added, "Unless, you really wanted to do it. I'd just rather not. I don't think I could manage that today."
"Of course. Like I need the press." He leaned forward and pressed the call button to ask the driver to take them to the side entrance.
When they pulled around, she practically vibrated with energy. She didn't even wait for their driver to open the door, instead bounding out like a kid would charge the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. And it was clear she knew where she was going.
Once they showed their credentials, she led the path away from the party and toward the showcase. "You dragging me off to have your way with me?"
Her step faltered and she slowed, sliding him a sidelong glance. "You know, I've never had sex in a car. Or on the hood of a car for that matter."
Holy fuck. He nearly swallowed his tongue. Just the idea of Kisima bent over the hood of one of these sleek super cars gave him ideas for the spank bank. "You're missing out, Kiss."
She laughed and rolled her eyes. "You're so easy. Knowing you, I'm sure that was your favorite high school pastime—convincing girls to take a ride on the back seat with you."
He winked at her. After all, she wasn't far off. He was the only kid he knew who didn't mind driving his mom's station wagon. In their house, there had been no room for privacy. So if he ever wanted to see his girlfriends, it meant hanging out in the car. "They usually didn't need much convincing."
"Terrible."
He shrugged. "Honest."
She opened the door to the magnificent showroom with an audible gasp. "God I love this place."
"You realize this is the most I've seen you excited about anything since I showed up." Not true, she'd been pretty damn excited for that head massage and ...other things.
Kiss grinned as she stepped inside, heading for a sleek, bright blue car. "Honestly, I think I'm just a gear head at heart, like my dad. I just love being around cars. I know how fast they are, and how to make them faster. I know all the modifications. I know how fast they go from zero to sixty. I love it all."
He wanted her talking. Because when she did, her whole face lit up and her eyes danced. "Tell me about this one.” He indicated the blue one.
"Expensive tastes, Kent. This is a Bugatti Veyron. It's the fastest street legal car in the world. Top Gear gave her the car of the year award for seven years running. Top speed is over two hundred sixty seven miles an hour. She has an 8.0 liter, quad-turbocharged, W16 cylinder engine and shift time of less than one hundred fifty milliseconds and roars like an army. But man does she have power. The back end slides around a bit on turns, so you have to be able to tame her, control her. Love her. But she's worth every fucking penny of the half a million."
"You talk about her like she's a woman."
She blinked up at him as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "She is a woman. Look at that curve." She giggled. "Everyone knows cars and boats are girls."
"Bullshit."
"It's true, we can even make a friendly wager. We'll ask one of these guys." She inclined her head toward a couple of the guards.
"If you're right?" He prayed her dirty mind would come into play. Please God, yes.
"Then you have to show me how to play poker."
He grinned. "Strip poker lesson, coming right up."
"Incorrigible." She shook her head. "And if by some miracle you're right?"
The words were out of his mouth before he could censor them. "A kiss."
19
This was awesome. This was where she felt comfortable. Around the cars. They didn't lie. They were honest and grounded. Sort of like math. She understood the mechanics of each of these vehicles. So much better than people.
Derek didn't let her sink too far into her reverie, stopping to ask her about each car. Whether it was faster than another car. How it drove, what it felt like. Then teasingly, if there was enough room. Like an idiot, she'd turned to him. "Enough room for what?"
His smile was broad as he winked. Ohhh. "Uh, no. No back seat. Hell some of these only have one seat as it is."
"That's not like you to miss a wide open opportunity for a dirty joke."
"Sorry. Just thinking about how much I miss this. It's been my whole life for so long and I've been away for months. Feels like a lifetime and at the same time feels like I've never left. It's surreal."
"You've come a long way, Kiss. It's amazing actually. Even from the time I showed up, you've made drastic improvements."
She shrugged. "Yeah, well, we'll have to see if it's enough. TJ wants me in Abu Dhabi."
Derek nodded slowly. "He mentioned that there were time trials in a couple of weeks." He looked at her in that unwavering, focused, intense way he had. "You think you'll be ready?"
"Do I really have a choice?" TJ needed her. He'd invested in her and her future for well over a decade. She owed it to him to get her mind in the game and get back on the track. "I have to be."
He was quiet for a moment as he studied the Maserati GranCabrio. "You know you don't have to if you're not ready."
"He needs me, so I'm digging way into my bottom drawer for my big girl panties."
"Somehow I'm guessing they are not as sexy as thongs?"
A laugh bubbled up before she could stop it. "No. More like granny pants."
"Sexy. You sure know how to wind a guy up." Derek pulled her to him and spun her in an easy spin. All she wanted to do was snuggle into him. Let him hold her like she'd been craving. It wouldn't be a sign of weakness to enjoy him. Even if he wasn't sticking around. She was a grown woman. She could have uncomplicated sex. Then why does he feel like a complication.
"And you have this way of making me completely speec
hless. Which given, I'm, well, me, that's saying something."
His voice dropped an octave as he leaned close. "I have other ways of rendering you speechless."
"Oh, I'm so sorry to interrupt.” Except the voice coming from behind Derek didn't sound sorry at all. Nor did it seem like he was leaving to give them some privacy. She wiggled free of Derek's hold. "Antonio, what do you want?"
Her ex stared her down, his gaze sweeping over her body. Only with iron will did she resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. How could she have thought she wanted to be with him? She'd been completely broken hearted when he'd left her without a word to go and race for Gifford. Derek shifted so he stood by her side. "Kiss, who's your friend?"
Antonio didn't wait to be introduced, instead, he shoved out a hand. "I'm Antonio Bates. Test driver for Gifford Racing."
Derek's glare spoke volumes and Kiss worked to bite back a laugh. "Oh, so you're the asshole who shoved Kiss into a wall and left her half dead on the track?"
Antonio's olive skin paled. "You shouldn't believe what she tells you. The crash didn't happen like that. If she'd been half as good a driver as Daniels thinks she is, she should have recovered better. Instead, she suffered a catastrophic crash." He tsked. "When are you gonna learn, Kiss, like every other woman who wants to drive, you're better on your back than you are on the track."
Her temper flared to the fore. For two years he'd spread ugly rumors about her and she was done with it. "Antonio, careful, your misogyny is showing."
He wrinkled his brow. And she repeated what she'd said, slowing it down as if he were the village idiot. Mi-so-gy-ny. It means—"
Antonio took a menacing step toward her and Derek blocked his path, shaking his head. "Yeah, you don't want to do that."
He and Antonio squared off for what felt like eons and Kiss stood frozen as her gaze ping ponged between the two men. It was Antonio who backed down. His voice was icy when he said, "One day, Kiss, you and I are going to be having a conversation. You should tell your boy here that you're liable to get hurt if you keep trying to play with the big boys."