Page 28 of Drive Me Wild (Drive Me #2)

TWENTY-EIGHT

JOSIE

Looking around Gemini, I try to remember how it looked when I first stepped foot inside—dusty, dim, and sparse. Now it’s the perfect mix of comfort and classic. Ambient twinkle lights glisten off the mirrored wall behind the long oak bar, and bottles of fancy wine, local craft beers, and every whiskey brand known to mankind line the shelves. Tufted leather booths line the exposed brick walls and mismatched light fixtures hang from the high ceiling: a vintage Busch beer chandelier next to a gold starburst pendant.

“We don’t need the bang bang shrimp and the shrimp tacos,” Kelsey muses aloud. “What do you think?”

I glance down at my notebook—the pages are smudged with oil and aioli. “I think I’m going to need to be rolled out of here. Any way I could get a free membership to that gym of yours?”

Leaning back into the booth, Kelsey lets out a low laugh. He knows I’m right, considering we just ate a week’s worth of meals in three hours. Jamie made us full-sized plates of every bar bite imaginable. A queso dip with salted fingerling potatoes. Mussels and frites. Chipotle mac & cheese. Smoked apricot barbecue wings. And Jamie’s take on fish and chips? Tempura-battered cod and sweet potato fries with a spicy wasabi tartare dipping sauce. How do you not eat all of that? You have to. Honestly, it’d be rude to leave any morsels left on the plate.

Thankfully, my sweater is long enough to cover the fact that my jeans have been unbuttoned for the past thirty minutes. “I say we do the bang bang shrimp,” I add. “If I were religious, I’d want to be baptized in that sauce.”

Kelsey grins at me. “Bang bang it is.”

I shoot him finger guns. Bang bang. The corner of his mouth quirks up as he closes his own grease-stained notebook.

A text from Theo pops up on my screen and momentarily distracts me. There’s only an hour time difference between Zandvoort and London, but based on our constant game of text tag and missed calls, it seems like a much larger gap.

Theo Walker

Just saw you called. Was in a meeting. :/

Josie Bancroft

It’s okay! How was practice?

Theo Walker

Eh, fine. Pace was off. You around now to chat?

Josie Bancroft

At Gemini. I’ll call when I leave!

Theo Walker

Have a sponsor event in a bit. Chat tonight?

Kelsey clears his throat, the raspy tone making me glance up. “I want you to work with me full-time.”

My phone slips from my hands and clatters to the table dramatically. “What?”

“I want you to work with me,” he repeats with a chuckle. “Call it a gut feeling, but we’ve created something special here, and this is just the beginning. I want to open more spots that are about more than just what’s on the table—places where people feel completely at home while still experiencing the joy of dining or drinking out.”

“Wells Drink Hospitality,” I blurt out.

Kelsey’s brows curve downward. “Hmm?”

“That’s what you should call the hospitality group,” I clarify. “Think about it. Your last name is Wells, obviously, and it’s way too convenient that well drinks happen to be the bread and butter for bars. Hence?—”

“Wells Drink Hospitality,” he repeats back. “See? This is why I need you full-time. I can’t even name places by myself.”

Excitement blooms in my stomach and a million questions come flying out at once. The first one obviously being: are you kidding me? Kelsey answers each one of my questions with the practiced precision of a boxer. He’s direct, honest, and every response packs an exciting punch.

“I’d be remiss to not try to steal you away from McAllister. And with me, you can expand and grow your role into what you want and build your own team,” he continues. “Take some time to think about it, okay?”

All I can do is nod and say, “Sure.”

I finally get ahold of Theo right before I go to bed. The moment he answers the phone, we both start talking at rapid-fire speed. If anyone were eavesdropping on our conversation, they’d think we’re speaking gibberish or on drugs. God knows Theo’s the more impatient of the two of us, so I let him speak first. I need his full attention for my news, anyway.

“My tire strategy sucks,” he says agitatedly. “They want me to switch to medium tires on a one-stop strategy. At Zandvoort! It’s bad enough that Pirelli didn’t produce altered tires to handle the tracks’ banking, but switching me to that? The wear and degradation are going to kill my speed.”

The Grand Prix in Zandvoort has recently been redeveloped, meaning the data to formulate tire strategy isn’t as exact as it should be. Though the team should know enough that soft to hard tires is the move, not soft to medium.

“That doesn’t seem like Andreas.”

Theo snorts. “It seems like Avery, though, right?”

Ah.

“Your strategy could easily change,” I remind him soothingly. “Especially if the weather causes more degradation than expected. How was qualifying?”

“Fine, but I was on soft tires .” He mutters something to himself, but his accent and low tone make it hard to make out what he’s saying. “I wish you were here, Jos. You make everything better.”

His words send a guilty flush to my cheeks. I’d be lying if I said that the tasting wasn’t worth missing a race weekend, which in Theo’s eyes is akin to blasphemy.

“I miss you, too.” I cradle the phone against my ear and cuddle deeper into the warm embrace of my bed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“There is one thing you could do,” he suggests with a low chuckle. “If you’re up for it.”

“Mm-hmm?”

I hear his breath hitch. “You can tell me what you’re wearing.”

Oh.

Oh my god.

Um.

Does he want me to tell him what I’m actually wearing to bed or should I lie and say something sexy?

“That blue cotton pajama set,” I admit quietly. “With the white trim on it.”

“I like that one. Always feels so soft against my skin, yeah?” His voice is an octave deeper, a dead giveaway that he’s turned on. “Wish I was there right now, spooning with you. Well, we wouldn’t really be cuddling.”

“No?”

“Nu-uh,” he replies huskily. “I’d be balls-deep in that pretty little pussy of yours, making you moan my name as you come all over my cock.”

A wave of desire crashes into my core, quickly rolling through my veins like a drug. What the fuck do I say to that? Cool! Amazing! Smashing! Even with all the traveling I did, I never had phone sex with any of my exes—I never felt the need to. And even if I did want to, I wasn’t nearly bold enough to initiate it. I don’t want to mess this up by saying the wrong thing.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, princess? Me rocking into you and rubbing your swollen clit with my fingers.”

Bloody hell. His words are so intimate and primal that my chest heaves as I fight to control my breathing. “Ye-yes.”

“I’m so hard, Jos. You’re all I think about.”

My body vibrates to the thump of my heart. “I don’t really, uh, know… how to do this. Phone sex. I don’t know if I’m going to be very good at it. Haven’t really explored this particular avenue before. Or street. Boulevard. Whatever you want to call it. Masturbation station.”

Theo laughs softly. “Well, all you have to do is tell me what you want and how you’re touching yourself. For example… right now, I’m stroking my cock, thinking about how good your pussy feels. How fucking warm it is, because you’re always so wet and ready for me.”

My cheeks flush at the brazenness of his words. “Oh?”

“Mm-hmm. Are you wet right now? Do you want to touch yourself, angel?”

“Yes,” I squeak out. Theo’s words get me more riled up than I thought was humanly possible. He’s awakened a fire in me, and I’m desperate to let it consume every inch of my skin.

“Do it, baby,” he coaxes.

I sigh as I press softly against my clit, pleasure coursing through my body as I slowly stroke myself. “I’m, well… um, touching myself.”

No shit, Sherlock . Christ. What is wrong with me? That’s so un-sexy. Should I pretend I have bad service and just end the call and hide out in a hole for the rest of my life?

“Details, baby,” Theo says, amusement lacing his words. “I want you to tell me exactly how you’re touching yourself. What are you thinking about?”

“You,” I admit, my voice breathy. “I’m thinking about you.”

“What’re you thinking about me doing?”

“I’m pretending it’s your fingers rubbing against me. Slowly teasing me until I can’t take it anymore.”

He moans into the phone. “I can’t wait to be inside you. How fast do you think I can make you come when I see you? Hmm?”

My response is immediate. “Fast.”

He laughs deeply. “It’s because my cock was made for your pussy, yeah? Always feels so fucking good.”

“Ah-huh.” I can barely get the words out, the excitement over what we’re doing overwhelming my senses. I feel my stomach start to burn, my orgasm edging closer with every second that passes.

“Don’t get shy on me now, gorgeous. Tell me what else.”

“I’m thinking of your fingers filling me,” I whisper.

“Fuck, that’s hot, baby. Slide a finger in for me.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I whimper quietly into the phone as I caress the spot inside me. This is better than any solo self-pleasure session I’ve ever had.

“Do me a favor,” Theo says huskily. “Go get Buzz Lightyear.”

I’ve toyed around with Buzz—no pun intended—and surprisingly, I like him a lot. Not that I would ever admit that to my mum. Nope. Don’t think about your mum right now, Josie.

Rolling onto my side, I open my bedside drawer and pull Buzz out of his protective case—which, yes, is shaped like a rocket ship. He’s royal purple and green, and made of high-quality silicon that gives him a silky feel.

“Okay, I have him. It. I have it,” I say, clicking the button three times to get to my favorite setting. “It’s turned on.”

And so am I. Theo coaxes me on how to touch myself. What he wants me to do. What he wants to be doing to me. I’m a mess as I near my orgasm, moaning his name into the phone like I’m a phone sex operator who does this for a living.

“Fuck, I’m so close, Jos,” he says in a strained voice. “Come with me, baby.”

That’s all it takes. At his words, I come undone, arching my back deeply, eyes screwed shut as I ride the wave of electricity flowing through my body. The throaty noise he denies making filters through the phone as he comes. I smile at the sound, knowing that even thousands of miles away, I’m still the one making him unravel.

“Christ, Jos. That was…”

“I know.” My chest rises and falls as I try to catch my breath. “You’re good at phone sex.”

Closing my eyes, I imagine his smile—not cocky, not conceited, but content. For a moment, there’s only heavy breathing coming through the phone.

“This was my first time,” he says.

And just as my heart rate was starting to go down, it skyrockets once again. His first time? Theo’s smile may not be cocky, but mine sure as hell is. I like being one of his firsts, especially since he probably doesn’t have many left.

“Well, wow,” I finally stammer out. “Color me impressed, Walker.”

“Eh, no need to be impressed. I just know what I want.”

My heart skips a beat. “Me?”

“Always you, baby. I’m?—”

He’s cut off by loud, muffled voices and intense banging. “Shit, Jos. I’ve got to go. Call you later, yeah? Love you, angel.”

“Mm-hmm. Love you, too.”

My news will have to wait.