Fueled (Driven, #2)(52)
“You think so?” I murmur coyly, batting my eyelashes at him as he nods. “Maybe I’ll have to show you just how good of a cock tease I am,” I quip as I sashay down the walkway in front of him, swinging my hips back and forth. I know that sex is off of the agenda for the evening because he has to leave right after karting with the kids, and Saturday night will be the next time I get to see him.
I turn back to face him, taking a step backwards as I watch him. “Too bad you shaved,” I say, fighting the smirk I want to give him. “I kinda liked the roughness of it between my thighs.” I raise my eyebrows as he sucks in a breath.
This could be fun. A buildup of anticipation. I can spend the week taunting him and ramp up the expectation so that by Saturday night we can’t keep our hands off of each other. As if we need help with that anyway.
“C’mon, Rylee! You have to beat him. You’re our last hope!” Shane yells across the railing at me as I stand beside my kart waiting for my rematch.
The past two hours have been a blast. From the racing to the boys’ laughter to the constant banter between Colton and me, I couldn’t have thought of a better way for the boys to let off steam and reconnect after the chaos of Zander’s nightmare last night.
After an hour of free-for-all racing, the boys begged to race one on one against Colton. He willingly obliged and in turn set up my current situation. Colton beat all of the boys, everyone that went up against him, except for me. I accused him of letting me win, which had him instantly calling for a rematch. The second race went in his favor. Now we’re in the tiebreaker.
“Best out of three, Thomas. Whoever wins next gets bragging rights,” he calls over to me, amusement in his eyes and challenge in his smile. God, I love him. Especially when he has this look about him: confident, carefree, and downright sexy.
“You’re all talk, Donavan. Your win was a total fluke.” The arrogant smile he flashes goads me further. “Big, bad professional racer like you has to maintain your dignity, you know. Can’t have rookies like me showing you up! Especially a woman.”
“Oh baby, you know me, I’ll let a woman do whatever she wants to me.” He smirks and raises an eyebrow suggestively.
I laugh out loud as I walk the ten feet between us. I look back over my shoulder at the boys who are egging me on and wink at them to show I’m on their side. As I approach, Colton turns to face me, his hand holding his helmet against his hip as if it’s the most natural stance in the world for him, and the fingers of his other hand rubbing together as if he is itching to reach out and touch me.
Good, it’s working. My subtle brushes against him. My little suggestive comments whispered to him here and there. My slow perusal of his body so he notices. Despite having to do them all under the detecting eyes of our audience, I’m glad to know that none of them have gone unnoticed. I can see it in his eyes and the pulsing muscle in his jaw as I approach him.
“You worried you’re going to lose, Ace?” I smirk. My back is toward our audience so I bend over and tie my shoe, purposefully putting my cleavage on display. When I look up, Colton’s pupils have darkened and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.
“I know what you’re doing, Rylee,” he murmurs softly from beneath his smirk, “and as much as your little antics have had me wanting to push you up against that wall over there and take you hard and fast more than once since we’ve been here—regardless of who’s watching—it’s not going to work.” He flashes his megawatt smile at me. “I’m still gonna beat that fine ass of yours to the finish line.”
“Well as much as I could use a good spanking...” I breathe out, looking up at him from beneath my lashes and catch his sharp intake of air at my words “...I was just coming over here to see if you needed any help getting your motor revved up.” I smile innocently at him, although my body language says anything but.
I watch his throat constrict as he swallows, his lips twisting as he tries to prevent himself from smiling. “Oh, my motor’s running just fine, sweetheart,” he teases as his eyes travel the length of my body again. “Revved and raring to go. Do you need any help getting yours tuned and ready to race?”
I bite my bottom lip as I stare at him and angle my head to the side. “Well I seem to be running a little tight in the ass end. Nothing a quick lube job wouldn’t fix,” I toss over my shoulder as I walk back to my car, wishing I could see the reaction on his face.
The boys keep up their shouting and heckling as we put our helmets on and get strapped in our carts. I glance over at Colton and nod my head as I rev my gas pedal. And then we are off, racing side by side through the twists and turns of the track. My competitive nature surfaces as Colton noses past me. I can’t hear the boys cheering me on over the sound of the motors, but I catch passing glimpses of their arms waving frantically in my periphery. We come to the next turn and I edge the nose of my cart in first, taking the corner at full speed and powering past him. We race down the straightaway toward the finish line, edging back and forth. When we finally cross it, I’m pretty sure that I won by the hysterics from the boys and Jackson on the sidelines.
I screech my kart to a stop and jump out, unable to suppress the wide grin on my face. I pull off my helmet at the same time Colton does and when I turn to him, I swear his grin is as wide as mine. I do a silly, little victory dance around him to amuse the boys who are doing their own celebrating. He just shakes his head, laughing at me with a genuine, carefree smile on his face.