Page 7 of Getting Off

Brooklyn knew she had lost her mind.

There was no other reason for her to be at a racing club on the edge of Vegas, holding the racing outfit and the gear Dylan had given her.

Dylan actually tweaked her nose. She was so surprised by the friendly gesture that she didn’t even protest. “Wrong sport, sweetheart. This is off-road racing. And yeah. Everyone wears the gear. It’s for safety reasons. Which I know you’ll appreciate.”

He had her there. She had been concerned about safety from the get-go.

“Besides,” he continued, “you don’t want to be wandering the desert at night in that sexy dress.”

She barely had the chance to register that he’d called her dress sexy. Instead, she was focused on imagining wandering the desert at night, lost and alone.

Before she could announce, again, that this was crazy and she was crazy for being here, Lucas Fox appeared. He walked from the other side of the bank of lockers with the top half of his padded suit hanging around his waist. His broad, muscular chest was bare.

Brooklyn forced herself to look down at the suit she was holding in her hands. She didn’t want to be caught staring at Fox, no matter how stunning his physique was.

His perfect body annoyed her even more. The guy was some fancy financier.

He probably spent hours in a chair behind a desk.

How in the world did his body look that great under his expensive suits?

Every groove was cut from marble. His skin was tanned and warm, and there was a light dusting of dark hair that started below his navel before arrowing down to—well, to other things that Brooklyn was doing her best not to think about.

Dylan was already dressed in his black protective racing suit. He made a low sound of approval as he looked over at Fox.

“Lookin’ good, man,” he said with an appreciative grin. “You lift, don’t you?”

Lucas met his eyes and gave a nonchalant shrug. “I hire the best personal trainers money can buy.”

“Lucky bastard,” Dylan replied with a laugh. He examined the suit. “That should be a decent fit. You’re just a little taller than I am, but we’re in the same weight class.”

It was impossible not to peek at them as Dylan helped Fox to pull the top portion of his suit up over his arms. Brooklyn couldn’t help but notice as Dylan’s hand slid over Fox’s very sexy-looking ass.

What the hell was that? Was he testing how the suit fit?

Lucas noticed it too. Her mouth went dry as they locked eyes.

For a moment, Brooklyn would’ve sworn it was as if she hadn’t been in the room at all.

They were so close to one another. Just a few inches between them.

Brooklyn bit her lip and tried not to think about how sexy they looked.

She was irritated that her traitorous mind was painting horribly inappropriate images of the two of them.

Thoughts of Dylan reaching out and grabbing Lucas by the back of the head before their mouths met in a passionate kiss.

Kiss? Brooklyn swallowed the lump that had appeared in her throat. She had lost her damned mind. Dylan Pierce seemed like enough of a hetero adrenaline junkie to take her fantasy as an insult if she ever dared mention it. Which she wouldn’t.

Maybe this was similar to the thing where football players slapped each other’s asses. Yes. That was definitely it.

“It is a good fit.” Lucas’s voice was low and rougher than usual. “Thanks for this opportunity, Dylan. I’ll be honest. I doubt I would’ve tried this on my own. I didn’t even realize I might be interested.”

Dylan’s slow smile made Brooklyn’s belly give a little flutter. There was no doubt that, in their minds, she wasn’t even in the room right now. They were in their own world, and she felt a bit… What? Jealous?

Now that was crazy.

Brooklyn stared at the one-piece jumper suit in her hands and tried to puzzle out why she should care what they thought. Lucas Fox was a renowned playboy. He dated supermodels and actresses. But maybe he was bisexual too. And she didn’t know anything about Dylan.

Or maybe this was all just in her imagination.

The urge to do something completely outrageous hit her hard.

It wasn’t an impulse she was used to. It certainly wasn’t something she’d ever given in to in the past. She wasn’t even tipsy, but she felt her skin heating, her heart pounding, and her growing breath short.

So much of their attention had been on her all evening that she was surprised to discover she’d come to…

come to like it. Now that they were focused on each other, she felt left out.

If Lucas wanted to walk around half-naked, well, two could play at that game. Everyone around her at work and in her life believed Brooklyn Foster was no fun. That she was a stick in the mud. That she didn’t have a wild bone in her body.

Well, she might be careful and professional, but she could be wild too.

Determination filled her. She kicked off her heels. Then Brooklyn put her feet into the suit and drew it up to her waist right there in the coed locker room.

She didn’t look at Dylan and Lucas. She wanted them to think she didn’t give a damn if they were watching or not, even though the opposite was true. She wanted to rattle them as badly as they had rattled her.

She anchored the suit at her waist and lifted her black cocktail dress up and over her head. Without a word, she gently draped the dress over the bench beside her before pulling the rest of the suit up over her arms and wriggling a bit to get the rest of her inside the damn thing.

Lucas’s heart skipped a few beats the instant he realized Brooklyn Foster had stripped off her dress without a single care for who might be watching.

He had a perfect view of her graceful body from the waist up, and his brain and his cock liked what he was seeing.

She had a flat stomach, pale skin, and the strapless bra was the only thing covering her small but pert breasts.

Beside him, Dylan let out an animal-like groan of need.

Yes. He could certainly agree with that sound. The ache of lust that clenched right at his groin was impossible to deny.

They were both watching her as she shrugged into the rest of the one-piece protective suit. She was outwardly ignoring them, but he understood enough about women to know that she was definitely looking for a reaction. He started to grin. It seemed his little doctor had a bold side after all.

He loved it.

“I think I’m going to need more room in the crotch of this suit,” Dylan murmured.

Lucas agreed wholeheartedly. Dylan was standing so close to him that he could smell the fresh scent of cedarwood and the outdoors on the other man.

His desire spiraled even higher. First at the sight of the lovely Brooklyn Foster. Then by having Dylan so close. And that pat on the ass. That hadn’t been any accident either. Dylan was testing him.

Tonight could turn out to be one in a million.

Lucas could feel his heart thudding away, the blood rushing in his veins, and his cock thickening. The sexual tension in the room had gone from zero to a hundred, all because Brooklyn decided to push the envelope. She had surprised them both.

He liked surprises. Always had.

The sound of Brooklyn zipping her suit shook him out of his lust-filled daze. It had been a while since anyone had stunned him like that and his desire had hit him so forcefully.

A slow smile crossed Dylan’s face. He didn’t say anything. He just handed Lucas a pair of driving boots. Lucas took the boots and realized that his hands were shaking a little. Enough that he felt amused by the power of his own reaction to these two people.

He hadn’t seen this coming. But that was the best part about life, wasn’t it? It was always throwing you surprises.

“All right,” Brooklyn announced as if she wasn’t aware they’d both been gaping at her. “I think I’ve got this right. How about the boots? Anything special I should know?”

“It’s not surgical wear, Doc,” Dylan drawled with amusement. “Just put your feet in and let’s go.”

It didn’t take long to finish getting geared up. He was surprised to find himself this excited for tonight. If anyone had told him this morning that he’d be suiting up to go driving in the Vegas desert tonight, he would’ve told them to go get medical help. Yet, here he was.

The three of them emerged from the locker room into the clubhouse proper. Lucas had been surprised by the lack of cars in the lot after the three of them had driven here. Inside, the place was empty.

He didn’t know what he’d expected. A night watchman, maybe? “Is nobody else here tonight?”

“The club is usually closed on Friday nights unless there’s a race or a Saturday time trial,” Dylan explained.

“Believe it or not, I’m a manager here, and I live on site.

I have permission to use the tracks and equipment.

But since I’m not cleared ”—he shot a wry look at Brooklyn—“to race the club vehicles. We’ll go out in one of my own. ”

“Your own?” Brooklyn’s voice was trying hard to stay nonchalant, but there was an undercurrent of uncertainty in it. “Is it safe?”

“Better than safe,” Dylan said, even though that really didn’t make sense to Lucas. How could something be better than safe? “Don’t worry. Bubba will get us around in fine style.”

“Bubba?” Brooklyn’s skepticism was plain as day. Despite her bold move in the locker room, she looked like she was having second thoughts now.

Lucas definitely didn’t want that. He was learning all kinds of intriguing things about the doctor tonight.

He smiled reassuringly and touched her arm. “Let’s check it out before we panic. ‘Better than safe’ is a high recommendation.”

She actually laughed and nodded. He felt good. Crisis averted.

For now.