“Tate. You stare at my sister far, far longer than I’m comfortable with,” Drake drawls.

“Look away.” I shoot him a look and smirk.

“Hands off. You hear?”

I meet his determined gaze, then I realize this is going to have to get settled the old way. I stand. “I’ll fight you for her.” I start to roll up the sleeves of my white undershirt.

“Huh?”

“You heard me. I’ll fight you for her.”

“Jesus, you’re insane. Hands off, Lana, buddy.”

“Not that easy, Drake. Can’t.”

“Why the fuck can’t you, Tate.”

“I’m going to marry your sister.” I give him a meaningful look, and he narrows his eyes.

“You’re insane.” He laughs, then narrows his eyes. “She’s been hurt before. She doesn’t want to go through that again.”

“Guys! We have a sponsor!” Lana comes over, flushed and excited, her whole body trembling.

“That’s great, Lainie baby,” Clay says, amused as he glances at both me and Drake.

She looks at me then, and her smile falters, and her cheeks flush even more.

“They love you,” she tells me, and I see her dad walk up behind her, beaming as she explains, “We’ll have more budget now. Better tires.”

I nod at that, my chest doing shit at the sight of her so happy. “What do you want me to do?” I ask.

“Keep it going. And wear this—they sent a package!”

She slides a cap with a logo of a sports company on my head, and I grab her hips and tilt my head down to her as she examines the way it looks on my head.

“Yep. You’ll have to do,” she says. “The dimple makes it look even better.”

She laughs, and I feel my dimple deepen even more as our eyes lock.

Her smile falters as her eyes lock on mine, and I force myself to release her hips when I actually want to grab her ass and pull her closer. She turns me the hell on, and I don’t think she’ll ever know how much. Seeing her happy drives me insane. I want to urge her closer, want to open her mouth with mine, tasting her smile, soft and slow.

I can’t.

I force my arms down at my sides, tightening my jaw as I try to suppress the testosterone in my body. Goes ape-shit when she’s near.

“Only reason I’ll wear one is if you wear one too,” I say, to be difficult.

“What, why?” She scowls as I take off my cap and try it on her face.

“You look cute with it.”

She flushes, pulling out another cap from a bag and setting it back on me.

“Okay. But it’s you they want, champ. Wear that on our next podium, okay?”

“Our first-place podium,” I gruff out.

Her smile widens even more, and her eyes gleam with hope. “Yep.”

I shift the cap and make as if I’m going to kiss her, but instead I whisper, “Come to my room tonight.”

Her eyes widen, and before she can even seem to think about it, she smiles a little wider and licks her lips in nervousness and gives me a nod of consent. My dick jerks, and I can barely keep it in my pants.

That afternoon, as we’re heading out of the track, her brothers slap my back.

“Boy, that was some great performance out there. I nearly had a heart attack,” her father says.

“No!” Lana says, her eyes wide. “Daddy. No.”

She seems to realize her reaction and looks at me, then lowers her face and just smiles, breathing fast from the excitement.

I curl my hands at my sides, heading down the walkway by the track.

“An illegal street racer. Really, Lainie?” I hear Clark yell as he steps out of his tent.

I pass him and bump my shoulder hard against his.

“Hey,” he calls.

“Motherfucker,” I growl at him.

I shoot him an eat-shit grin and keep walking, feeling his fury behind me.

It’s on.

Lana

I’m going to his room.

It’s a big deal, but I’m telling myself it’s not.

I’m downplaying it.

Because I don’t dare admit to myself that I want what I want.

I’m not in Florida anymore.

My family is in this hotel, just like his was.

We could bump into them.

But Daddy is asleep after dinner. And my brothers just stepped off on their floor. They’re too high on the win to think of anything else.

So am I.

Higher than high.

I think Racer Tate is higher than high from it too.

The air around us crackles and burns as we step off on our floor. I tell myself I’ll just kiss him for five minutes. One goodnight kiss just because I’m on cloud nine and I need to get down from there. But being with him doesn’t get me down.

Quite the opposite.

And yet here I am, a little bit like a junkie who cannot save herself, no matter what. All because he said he wanted to be alone with me tonight … and because I want that too.

Have wanted that since St. Petersburg—

A shiver of anticipation runs through me as he slides the key into the slot and holds the door open, and I know I really shouldn’t be here, but at the same time I cannot turn back. Something happened, something is happening—every second we look at each other, every breath he and I take.

I walk inside.

He narrows his eyes and looks at me. He towers over me, his hair a little rumpled from the breeze out on the track, and he runs his hand over it as I look at him questioningly.

“I want you. I’m not going to lie. I want you in that bed with me tonight.”

I swallow thickly, laughing and shaking my head.

He laughs too and reaches out, pulling me closer. “You’re not going to spend the night with me, Lana?”

“No,” I breathe as I lean on the shut door. “I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

His eyes darken, and he exhales a sound of frustration. “Go out on a drive with me.”

“Where?”

He touches my cheek, and my reaction is so visceral, so strong, that I arch and moan softly, pressing closer as I whisper his name.

And in that name is the real reason that I’m here.

And in that name is all the pent-up feelings I’ve tried to lock away ever since that night in St. Petersburg where I brought him with me to my hotel.

And then Racer is scraping his thumb along my lip as if he means to destroy it. He scrapes his thumb along my mouth, side to side. And Racer is leaning his dark head. And Racer is pressing his lips to mine as if I’m the petal of a rose and any brush of wind would break it off.

I lose all semblance of control and rationale. I don’t know what’s going on, all I know is suddenly my hands are curving along the back of his neck, and my whole body is trembling beneath the sensual, seductive, barely there graze of his lips.

He eases back to look at me with blue, blue eyes fringed with dark lashes, half-mast over his sleepy-looking eyes.

And then he ducks his dark head again, and his tongue flicks out. He touches the tip against mine, rubbing, back and forth, and his taste swarms me. Cinnamon bubble gum and guy.

Kissing me slow and deep. Lips moving. Tongues stroking, tasting. His fingers bite into my waist as he murmurs that he wants me.

His voice thick as he strokes his hand down my sides, working open my buttons as he sets his forehead on mine and watches my reactions.

“My whole life I’ve guarded against addictions. Driving was my one addiction. Never smoked, don’t drink except socially, eat right, but you, Lana. You’re an addiction I can’t say no to. Don’t want to say no to. If I don’t have you beneath me now I’m going implode on myself.”

I pull his T-shirt up to his neck, and my fingers run along the velvety muscles of his chest, hard and smooth; my lips follow to suck on his nipple. A sound very much like a growl runs up his throat, rumbling against my hair.

The air burns between us. His hands push my racing-team T-shirt off and over my head, leaving me in my bra and jeans. My nails rake along his back as his hungry mouth runs all over my body. My breasts, my stomach, my neck, my mouth. I undulate and press him closer, needing more but afraid to voice it.

He circles his tongue along the tip of my breast, suckling gently. Oh wow. My nipples are always so sensitive when he’s around, but the feel of his warm mouth on them debilitates me. The pull of his mouth causes me to gasp and my whole body to squeeze pleasurably. I’m so wet I can smell myself, and when I see his nostrils flare, I feel myself blush because I know Racer can probably smell me too.