Page 36 of Overdrive (Speed Demons #1)

The rumble of engines may have faded, but the energy of the Miami GP still thrummed through the air. The streets were alive with celebration, the city's pulse beating in every corner of the paddock. Hours later, that energy still lingered in my veins, electric and heady.

Callumhad been standing just above me, golden under the Miami sun, champagne bottle in hand. He looked at home on the top step, like he belonged there all along and the rest of the world was just along for the ride.

I'd watched him lift the trophy overhead, effortless. Watched the way his grin burned bright and easy.

And I'd felt something stir inside me.

I couldn't believe it took me this long to come to the realization. That I could be happy for someoneelse'ssuccess, even if mine wasn't where I wanted it yet. Maybe that meant I'd settled into this life. Maybe that meant something else entirely.

Now, back at the hotel, that same energy buzzed under my skin. A different kind of high.

The silky pink dress draped over the chair like temptation itself—soft at a glance, sinful in intent.

It clung to every curve, ending high enough to raise questions and low enough to keep the answers to herself.

The heels beside it were high, but tonight wasn't about practicality.

It was about letting go. About feeling good for no one else but myself.

Just a woman in her twenties, living her best life. Letting herself be selfish for once.

I slipped the dress on and carefully stepped into my heels, my reflection catching my eye in the full-length mirror. A dangerous thought surfaced in my mind.

I looked good. And I knew exactly who would appreciate that fact.

Still tipsy from the bottle of wine room service had delivered, I grabbed my phone. The buzz made me bold. TheSnapchatcamera flicked open, the mirror image of my face staring back. I adjusted my pose slightly, just enough to let the soft hotel lighting kiss my skin in all the right places.

My fingers hovered over the send button. ToCallum.

A thrill licked up my spine.

I typed out the caption way too smugly.

How do I look? Ready to conquer Miami?

The second it sent, my heart pounded against my ribs. His response came instantly.

Callum

Looking like trouble.

I opened it. Didn’t respond. Let him sit with it—because if he wanted to play games, I was done pretending I wasn’t better at them. I swiped lip gloss on over my pink lipstick.

Then I got another message.

Callum

Where are you headed dressed like that?

The directness of it made my core clench, but I was poised to tease him and leave him wondering. Before I could type out a response, the little Callum icon popped up at the bottom, indicating he was typing. I held my breath.

He was wondering.

He wanted to know.

But I wouldn't give it to him.

Callum

Pink, huh? I would’ve expected red with how cutthroat you are.

A single beat passed.

Callum

Aurélie. You think I don’t know what you’re doing?

I swallowed, heat curling at the base of my spine. He was seeing right through me, and I was letting him. I wanted it—wanted him. And I wanted him to notice me as more than just a driver. I wanted him to see me as a real woman off the grid, too.

And then… a notification.

I opened it, and my stomach plunged.Callum. Outside, the Miami skyline behind him like a spotlight. Dressed in black. Leather jacket open like he was daring me to misbehave.

And the look on his face? Dark. Amused. Dangerous.

You think I don't know what you're doing?

His words repeated in my mind. My thighs pressed together. Nipples hardened. Clit pulsed insistently, entire body responding like he was in my room.

I stared at the image, something between pure want and sheer frustration clawing at my chest.

Okay.

One more response. That's all he was getting.

I propped my phone up against the vanity, pushed the lock once I started recording, and stepped back, doing a full turn so he could see the way the dress clung to me.

Put my hands on my hips when I faced forward again and glanced up at my reflection.

Madekissylips, then tossed my hair over my shoulder before leaning forward to stop the recording, a cheeky grin on my face.

I watched the video back and barely recognized the woman in it—confident, deliberate, dangerous. She didn't ask permission. She made demands. I hadn't been like this with a guy in so long… maybe not ever? But he was bringing something out in me, something I didn't hate… something I found I loved.

Confidence.

Arousal.

Oh, shit. Yeah, this was a problem.

But… I wanted him to see me like this. Wanted him to know what he couldn't touch… yet.

I pressed send, then let out a nervous squeal at what I'd just done. The can of worms I may have just opened.

I needed air. Needed to get out of this fucking hotel. Needed—fuck, I didn't even know what I needed anymore. I stuffed my phone into my clutch without looking. Refusing to acknowledge the slickness between my legs with every fucking step. Refusing to get myself off. No. Not tonight.

Tonight, I just needed a night out. To dance, to drink, to celebrate, to feel something that wasn't this fucking tension. Grabbing my clutch, I headed out into the Miami night, the smell of the sea hitting me as I stepped into the street.

Because in this moment, anything was possible.

And nothing else mattered except losing myself for a little while.