Curveball(30)

I run over to him, about to lunge myself at his thick body, when the driver of the other car comes over and sucker-punches him, his fist landing on Mark’s right cheek. His head turns to the side on impact, and I scream his name. The crowd erupts into an uproar. Different members of each crew are now gripping each other up, some landing punches in response while others stick with verbal abuse. The words cheater and sandbagger are thrown around a lot among the men who claim Mark must have done some modifications to his car that they didn’t know about prior to the race.

Mark rights himself, spits the blood from his mouth at the tall, blond-haired boy who punched him, and then lifts him by his navy-blue henley. He seems so unfazed by the blow that it doesn’t surprise me when he head-butts the boy and releases him. The boy staggers backward, holding on to his head, confused and disoriented.

I’m so turned on right now, I want to drag Mark into the backseat of his car, despite how small and uncomfortable the bucket seats are, and ride his cock until I can’t feel my legs anymore. The things he does to me, without even trying, drive me insane. I never thought one man could ooze so much sex appeal.

The group settles down after someone blows a whistle, followed by several car horns honking to get their attention.

Fat Tony gets on the hood of a bystander’s Honda Civic and brings his fingers to his lips to whistle. “Did we come here to race, or did we come here to fight?” His deep voice carries, commanding those around him to glance up. “I don’t know about you, but I came here to make some money. So, can we get back to it before the cops show up?”

A young preppy boy shouts, “You guys cheated!”

“I didn’t fucking cheat,” Mark growls, his eyes pointed at the boy and his mouth turned up into a snarl. “Just because that import piece of shit couldn’t handle American muscle doesn’t mean I cheated.”

“Check under his hood,” someone else says.

“Have a look. Go right ahead.” Mark opens his door and bends over to hit the hood release.

Before he can get to the front of the car, two men are propping the hood open.

Several people hover over the engine, checking for who knows what. I have no clue why they think Mark cheated. They ramble off some car nonsense I don’t understand, clearly satisfied with the result, before going back to their crew.

Once Mark turns around and notices me standing in the middle of the street, waiting for him, he comes over and wraps his arms around me, hugging me. I burrow my head against his neck and take in his musky scent.

“You scared me,” I mutter. “I thought something was going to happen to you.”

Mark holds me at arm’s length, his eyes scanning my face. “Nothing is going to happen to me. I’ve done this more times than I can count, and with me driving that car, a win is a sure thing.”

“Then, let me go with you next time. I would feel better if I was there with you.”

“Absolutely not.” His tone is firm, serious. “You are too important to me.”

“Because you love me?” I say, only to toy with him. “Because you own me?”

Mark grins and shakes his head before his lips graze mine, and his tongue slips into my mouth. With one hand, he rakes his fingers through my hair, deepening the kiss, and with the other, he pulls me closer, gripping my ass through my jacket. My entire body sets on fire from the brush of heat his kiss leaves behind as he pulls back from me.

I smile so wide, my jaw hurts. “So, I guess that’s a yes.”

He answers by returning my smile and kissing me one last time before he walks over to his crew, who have been calling over to him.

I’m left wondering how things between us have progressed the way they have in only a short amount of time.



“Where are you taking me?” I look up at Mark.

He’s dressed in gray slacks and a black button-down shirt, standing in my doorway as if he were holding the frame up.

“I didn’t even know we had plans. I was just doing laundry, and”—I tug at my knotted blonde strands piled onto my head in a loose ponytail—“I look like shit.”

He pulls me into his chest with his big hand and plants a kiss on my lips. “No, you’re beautiful. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of being inside of. And you’re mine. If you don’t change out of this”—he pulls me to him by my shirt—“I’m going to rip it off you and fuck you right here against the door.”

I swoon so fucking hard, my heart feels as though it could leap from my chest. He somehow manages to be cute and bad, all at the same time. And I cannot get enough of it.

“Mark…” As always, he has left me breathless and searching for the right words that never come out.

Mark taps me on the ass, causing me to jump. He closes the door behind him and walks with me into the living room. “Now, go get dressed. I don’t want to lose our table.”

“How should I dress?” I take a quick peek at what I have on—white boxer shorts with hearts on them and a white shirt with no bra. “Most of my clothes are in the washer.”

“Wear the red dress I saw in your closet.”

I throw my hands on my hips. “That fancy, huh?”

He nods. “I’m taking you on a proper date.”

Smiling like an idiot, I walk into my bedroom with my heart beating out of my chest because, for the first time since we started hooking up, this relationship finally feels real. And all my doubts about us being together sort of fades away.