Page 53 of Palm South University: Season 3
“That was incredible!” I scream, even though I don’t have to anymore. My ears are ringing, everything still muted. I tear my helmet off and shake my hair out, smiling wide at Brandon as he removes his, too.
“Have fun?”
“Are youkidding?! Let’s go again!”
He laughs, removing his sunglasses to wipe them clean with his shirt. Then he lifts his chocolate eyes to mine. “Wanna drive?”
It was hard to get me off the track after that.
We spent the entire afternoon and well into the evening taking turns driving, competing on who could get to one-hundred the fastest or who had the fastest zero-to-sixty or lap time. I couldn’t believe he trusted me enough to let me drive his car, especially at such high speeds, but he didn’t seem to be even the slightest bit worried.
When my stomach was growling loud enough for him to hear it, I begrudgingly said goodbye to Rodalfo and his crew, and we grabbed a quick bite at a café nearby before heading back to campus.
We shared casual conversation over dinner, mostly about my pole dancing since he’d been curious since I’d mentioned it. I left out all the drama, of course, but it was nice to talk to someone about one of my passions. It made me realize how much I missed it, and now I find myself wanting to look up local classes again, even if just for weekend workouts.
But the drive back to campus was quiet, leaving my brain room to run over the long list of thoughts I’ve been avoiding all day — like why the CEO of a successful event agency wanted to take his intern on a date, or what this means, or what we do next. Was it even really a date? Did he really just donate to charity as a nice gesture? And if it was something more… does he expect something now? It doesn’t make sense, why a powerful, sexy-as-hell man like him would risk his reputation and more to get me in bed.
And that’s all it could possibly be, right?
I’m a full ten years younger than he is. Other than my body, I’m not sure what else I could offer him that another, older, more mature woman couldn’t.
I shake the thoughts from my head as Brandon pulls around to the back of the sorority house, finding a parking spot under a large tree covered in Spanish moss before cutting the engine. When the silence envelopes us, the nerves that had disappeared on the race track are back again, and I sit on my hands to keep from wringing them together.
“Thank you for joining me today,” he says, voice low and steady as he eyes me from the driver seat.
“Thanks for letting me drive,” I reply with a laugh. “It was fun.”
I swallow as his eyes rake over me, all the way down to where my hands are tucked under my thighs before they find mine again. “I make you nervous.”
Blowing out a breath, I shake my head. “You confuse me.”
“How so?”
My stomach turns, hands forming fists between the seat and my skin. “The auction, not talking to me for over a month, the lead event planner position… and now today? I just…” My voice fades as I glance at him through my lashes. “What are we doing, Mr. Church?”
He inhales a stiff breath at his last name rolling off my lips, lips that his eyes are on now. “I don’t know what I was thinking sending Mykayla to the auction. I came to my senses that weekend and decided ignoring you was best for both of us.”
“What changed?”
His Adam’s apple bobs hard in his throat as he leans in closer, hand reaching forward until his fingertips brush my jaw. I freeze at the touch, his skin like a shock to my entire system, zipping a hot line of wire straight down between my clenched thighs.
“I discovered you’re impossible to ignore.”
His lips find mine in a frenzy, hot and wet and demanding as I struggle to catch my breath. But my hands are already fisting in his hair, pulling him closer. I moan into his kiss, crawling over the middle console to straddle him as his hands wrap around my ribs. When I roll my hips, friction sparking between us, we both groan and Brandon sucks my lip between his teeth, biting hard enough to draw blood.
Kissing him is intoxicating, like the strongest shot of tequila injected straight into a blood vein. My head spins with every touch of his skin on mine, blurring right and wrong together, no and yes as one. But when his hands yank at my body suit, unclasping the buttons that fasten it below my shorts and pulling the fabric free, I clasp my own over his wrists to stop him.
I break our kiss, our foreheads still pressed together, heavy breaths escaping our parted lips and fogging up the windows as his hands grip the freshly exposed skin of my hips.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, reaching blindly over the console for my purse and flinging his door open before crawling out of his lap. My body aches at the loss of his touch as soon as I’m free of him, but I focus on placing one foot in front of the other, blocking out everything else. He doesn’t chase me and I don’t look back, my heart pounding mercilessly in my ears as I race inside the house.
I push through the back kitchen door, shutting it quickly and pressing my back against it before sliding down to the ground. Pinching my eyes shut, I shake my head, still caught up in the feel of him while my brain battles to remind me why what I just did was a very, very bad move.
But he kissed me first.
I sigh, burying my face in my hands.
What the fuck am I doing?