Page 2 of The Love Obsession (Bloody Desires #11)

I wasn’t sure how rolling up in a Maserati would be received, but fuck it. I’d never driven in anything nearly as pretty and I was a sucker for a nice car. I raised my chin and didn’t answer him, choosing to rip my elbow from his hold and stalk out of the club instead. He was right behind me.

The air was humid tonight, the end of summer sending a last blast of heat, and I liked that it wasn’t cold. I slept better when it wasn’t hot as balls and I wasn’t melting into my couch-slash-bed, but winter brought different shit. We didn’t have the cash to keep the trailer warm.

“This way.” He pointed to the left, and we walked a short way to the spot where the valet brought the cars for rich fucks.

I’d taken an Uber here because I didn’t have a car of my own.

We had one, but Mom took it to work, and it was a junker.

It wasn’t surprising that he could pay for prime parking.

If he had a Maserati, he’d want to keep it safe.

The valet pulled a sparkling green beauty next to us. She was slim and sleek, all gorgeous lines that glittered under the streetlight. Dark windows. Shiny silver rims. Lime green brake calipers. Fuck, I nearly got hard at the sight of her.

The valet accepted a wad of cash and scurried away.

“Fuck me,” I breathed out in a rush.

“I’d be happy to oblige,” Zayn replied smoothly.

“Is this how you get all the dudes?” I rubbed the back of my neck, an excitement churning low in my gut. I was tempted to ask him if I could drive it, but only a crazy asshole would let a stranger get behind the wheel of this beauty.

As though he could read my mind, Zayn quirked an eyebrow. “You know where to go to your fight club. Get us there.”

“Are you fucking serious?” I gave him a once-over, taking in his neat appearance. He certainly didn’t seem like the type who thrived on danger, but the guy was asking to get robbed or some shit. “You got a death wish?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” He winked and opened the driver’s side door. “The night’s young, though. Now come on, let’s go. I want to see this rumble you were talking about.”

I frowned but shrugged. I wasn’t going to argue about driving a brand-spanking-new Maserati. This might be my only chance.

I crammed into the car, my arm knocking the door when I closed it.

My knees bumped the steering wheel, and I needed to adjust it to fit.

I was a giant. It was compact and the width of my shoulders took up the entire driver’s seat.

The car seemed awesome from the outside, but it wasn’t great for a guy my size.

Zayn was right beside me, taking the passenger side, and he whistled. “You look hot behind the wheel.”

I squirmed, his sweet words melting over me.

I’d never met a dude like him and couldn’t decide what his endgame was.

Did he want to fuck me? Hell, I’d let it happen anyway because I wanted to get laid.

But there was something else about him. I wasn’t the smartest guy around, but I was good at sizing up people.

Zayn was different. Charming and sure of himself but with a layer of secrets.

Trusting him wasn’t gonna be easy, and if this was the only chance I’d get at driving his car, then I was going to take it.

I tapped the gas pedal. She purred to life, her motor a delicate yet powerful buzz that swept through me.

I reversed her, then made my way onto the street.

I settled into the seat, feeling the power under the palms of my hands.

People stopped and looked, some with awe on their faces that I always fantasized about but never expected to experience. Until now.

“What do you do, Moose?” Zayn relaxed against his seat, a man who was used to the car and the looks he got by being in it.

Nothing fazed him about the experience anymore.

The stare he gave me was a different story.

The heat in his eyes was sizzling, and I didn’t need to see it in the darkness of the night to feel it on my skin.

His hunger was suffocating and exciting at the same time.

“I’m a logger.” I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it. “I work out in the lumber mill.”

I didn’t tell him it was close to home. The only people who lived out that way were the poor who took up space in Lakeview Trailer Park and the moderately well-paid religious folks who filled the churches.

The latter hated us and wanted us gone, but the owner of our trailer park refused to sell out of pure spite.

“No wonder you’re big.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, no. It’s a new job. I’ve always been big. I like manual labor and exercising.” And fighting. I kept that part to myself. “What about you, Fancy Pants? What do you do to get a nice car like this?”

A hand rested on my thigh, and I tensed for a moment before relaxing.

His palm and fingers were strong, squeezing but not advancing anywhere that would distract me further.

My cock took notice, though, hardening with the new attention to one of my pleasure points.

I loved it when guys played with and touched my thighs.

“I’m an electrical engineer. But I sort of ended up in administration and production. I work in large-scale power generation. Green energy, mostly, these days.”

“Like windmills and shit?” I asked, surprised that I had any idea what he meant.

Usually, I knew jack shit about that kind of thing, but one of my neighbors, Everly, talked about green energy regularly.

The idea of windmills intrigued him, and I always thought he was too smart to live in the trailer park.

Smarts didn’t equal success. But money sure as hell did.

I worried my younger sister would never get good opportunities.

I needed to get her out of that place.. ..

“It’s more than that. It can include a lot more than that.

Renewable and nonrenewable. Nuclear energy, fossil fuels.

For a while I worked for a company that did shit with the tar sands in Canada.

But I do work with wind turbines and hydropower.

Do I seem like the type?” The amusement in his voice had me grinning, even though I didn’t understand most of what he’d just said.

“Yeah. A Goody Two-shoes who wants to get his hands dirty with the dangerous dude.”

I turned onto the highway that would lead us in the direction of Uhlig’s nuthouse. If Zayn suddenly got cold feet and decided to leave me on the side of the road, finding a trip home would be tricky.

“You love assuming I’m a good guy.” Zayn’s laughter filled the cab of the Maserati. “What if I’m a serial killer?”

“Just a regular Ted Bundy, huh? I bet you got a suit and you’re real charmin’ and everything.

” I shifted the gears of the car and let loose with the pedal to the metal, opening her up on the highway.

She zoomed across the road and it almost felt like we were flying.

She was graceful and powerful. I was in love.

“Perhaps.” Zayn squeezed my thigh again. “You’re good with the stick.”

“I’m good with all kinds of sticks,” I teased. It was easy to grow comfortable around him. There was nothing vicious or mocking in his words, and while I knew that should’ve made me suspicious because everyone wanted something, I didn’t care. I was living my dream right now.

“You’ll have to prove that to me later tonight. I’d like to see how you handle my other stick.” He lowered his eyelids in some over-the-top flirting.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Sue me. I was only a guy who wanted to get laid. “Let’s hope yours is bigger than this one.” I made a jerking motion around the gearshift.

“Much bigger.”

“Guess I’ll find out later. As long as you can handle some blood on me.” Excitement for the fight blazed awake inside me. Who the hell cared that I had work tomorrow? I’d dealt with worse. As long as I didn’t get drunk, I’d be fine. Nothing a few painkillers couldn’t fix.

I turned the Maserati onto the road that led to the nuthouse and glanced at Zayn, even though I couldn’t see him very well in the dark.

“You ready, Fancy Pants?”

Zayn chuckled. “Absolutely, Moosey Bear.”

I grunted at the nickname.