Page 38 of Faster

The man standing in front of her, so stunned she’d kissed him that he hadn’t kissed her back, didn’t want to crush her. But he might do it without meaning to.

There was a moment when she thought he might change his mind. But then he dipped his head down and brushed her lips with his.

Just his mouth against hers made her want to weep with relief—all the tension she’d been carrying around and the weight of her attraction to him fell away.

The attraction felt as light as air when his dry lips moved against her mouth, when his tongue reached out to taste her.

She felt as though she was in suspended animation, waiting to come alive again if he decided to touch her.

He’d nearly goaded her into kissing him, but he was hesitating when she finally did.

Maybe her doubts had infected him. That wasn’t what she’d meant to do.

She just knew racing drivers. They dove in, headfirst, heedless of any consequences.

It made them effective on the track, but it was a liability everywhere else.

Finally, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back.

He took her mouth with the ferocity of a base jump.

The way he kissed her melted all her fears and doubts, instantaneously.

She almost wished he was wearing his fireproofs, because then she could feel more of his body against hers.

As it was, the perfectly tailored suit she’d suggested to him made her very aware of his honed body.

But still, she reached inside his jacket to feel the heat of him against her fingers.

“I want to taste you everywhere,” he said against her mouth. She softened against him, and her legs almost gave out on her. “You taste like sunshine.”

She wanted to laugh. He sounded like every hero in every sweet romance novel she’d ever read. If she didn’t know him, he could be some small-town cowboy claiming her mouth, despite her better judgment.

She must not have kept her mirth to herself.

“Why are you smiling? This is very serious business.” He was also smiling.

Why had she fought this so hard? This moment was one of the best in her life, which was sad.

She’d tried to make all of the best moments about her job, but she’d kept herself from connecting like this.

She didn’t share in-jokes with anyone—anyone but Brent.

“You’re just so much sweeter than I expected. You kiss me and talk to me like you’ve never watched pornography geared towards men.”

He didn’t let her go, but he threw his head back against the door and laughed in a way that would alert the entire paddock to their presence. But he didn’t let her pull away.

When he stopped laughing, he asked, “Would you prefer I went spicy?”

Paola realized, right then, that he would do pretty much anything for her. And that made her trust him enough to turn over a small piece of her heart. Instead of answering him, she kissed him again, pouring the feelings she wouldn’t say out loud.

He wrapped his arms around her, and she let herself bathe in the way he made her feel. The reasons why they shouldn’t do this no longer mattered when it was just the two of them.

Brent’s hands found their way under her clothes, and she lost the ability to breathe along with the ability to think, which went out the window as soon as he put his mouth on hers.

She shivered, even though two people in this tiny room was one too many, and they’d probably fog up the tiny window if this went much further. She wanted to go further. And he was of the same mind, if the erection he pressed into her lower belly was anything to go by.

He stopped kissing her and looked down at her, perturbed. “I wish you were wearing a skirt.”

This was one of the rare occasions that Paola wished she was wearing a skirt too. Usually, she dressed down along with her team kit because she didn’t want to court attention. “Why?”

“So I can get in your pants and not go off schedule for the day.” He said it like it was the most obvious reason for wearing a skirt in the world. She wished the rest of the world could see him like this—silly and hedonistic but totally focused on his goal at the same time.

“It’s so considerate that you don’t want to piss off the press officer,” she said. “But, in this case, I’d probably be more pissed that you left me hanging.”

He laughed again, softer this time. And then he turned them around, so her back was against the door.

He didn’t waste the precious time they did have, undoing her jeans and pulling them down around her ankles.

He was on his knees in front of her, so close to where she ached to him.

He looked up at her and said, “Even your panties are sensible, and for some reason that makes me so hard.”

Paola chuckled, but it turned into a strangled moan when he pressed his mouth against her, through the panties.

He could probably feel and smell how much she wanted him.

There would be no keeping secrets about how he affected her physically.

He hooked his fingers around the sides of her panties and pulled them down along with her jeans.

She probably looked totally ridiculous and unsexy right now, but she didn’t care.

Brent looked up at her like she was a goddess, and that blew all of her inhibitions away.

“Can I taste you, Paola?” She couldn’t even answer.

She just nodded her head. “You have to keep quiet, or everyone will hear. And you’re the one who cares about whether people know about this.

” He opened her with his fingers and looked at her.

Part of her wanted to squeeze her legs together, because the way he touched her was so intimate.

When she couldn’t take it any longer, he kissed her.

His mouth was more voracious there, like he’d been in polite company when his lips visited her mouth and become famished by the time he made it to her pussy.

She put the back of her hand against her mouth to keep the sounds he was forcing from her body muffled.

She stiffened for a moment when the back of her head knocked on the door, thinking someone was looking for Brent.

He didn’t let her mind leave the room and what he was doing to her, though.

He entered her with one finger, and then two.

She’d been looking at his hands for months, thinking about how big they would feel against her body.

But she hadn’t spent nearly enough time thinking about how they would fill her up.

No amount of thinking about it would have prepared her for how it felt to have him touch her this way.

She was going to come so hard and so soon that she felt like everything slowed down and stopped for a few moments.

It was like the seconds before impact when one of the cars crashed.

There was only a moment for a silent prayer that this would not end in disaster.

And then, impact. When the room finally stopped spinning around her, she looked down to see Brent staring up at her, his mouth wet with her, a smile on his face. He stood up and pressed against her, whispering in her ear. “We don’t have time to take care of me.”

“You should probably wipe off your face.” She knew her face had a small smile, and that he knew she was feeling bashful. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry about what?” He nuzzled into her hair and squeezed her still bare hip with one hand. “Sorry that I’m going to taste you on my tongue until I can have you again?”

“Sorry that I couldn’t take care of—uh—you.” And she wanted more of him, but something kept her from telling him how much hunger he’d awakened.

His voice softened, losing the playfulness it had held earlier. “You take care of my needs every day, and now it’s time that I figure out what you need and give it to you.”

It almost sounded like he wanted this to be more than a hookup, but he probably just meant her sexual needs. She couldn’t read too much into this.

“That was a really good start.” She moved away from the wall, thinking of how she could pull up her pants without giving him the ick.

But he moved first, squatting down and pulling them up.

He touched her with a care that made her realize this was definitely more than just him chasing sex from the one person who wouldn’t give it to him.

He wanted to meet all of her needs. She craved him more than anything. She was well and truly screwed.