They blew through a short straightaway, then he braked into the next turn. She glanced at the speedometer as he came out of it. Sixty. Then he jammed his foot onto the accelerator on the long straightaway past pit row. She didn’t see Jeremy. She couldn’t make out faces or even bodies, there was just a blur. By the time the speedometer hit one-twenty, she was pressed fully into the seat, one hand on the door, the other wrapped around the harness so her neck wouldn’t snap.

And they were flying.

Flying so free that she closed her eyes, and there was only the sense of speed, the rush of wind, and the shriek of the motor.

She was high. She was wild. She needed Will to touch her, but he couldn’t take his hand off the stick shift. And yet he was so close she could feel his heat beside her as if it were burning right off the engine.

Speed was the drug. Will was her pusher. She’d wanted to control the habit, but she was starving for more as she shouted, “Do it again.”

And he did, taking her around the track over and over, until she was nothing more than hot skin, hard bone, and exhilarating, utterly breathless sensation.

* * *

Later, Will had taken Jeremy around again while Harper watched. She’d stood on the sidelines, vibrating like voltage through an electrical wire. Will had felt the same, his body charged, his skin sizzling to the touch, his heart hammering in staccato beats.

As for Jeremy, he’d chattered like an excited squirrel. Speed affected them all. And when her brother said he wanted to drive back in Leland’s truck to Will’s house, where Mrs. Taylor was waiting for him, so that they could talk cars the whole way, Harper agreed readily.

Now, Will and Harper were headed up Highway 1 alone, the others out of sight. “Were you scared on the track?”

“Terrified.” But even now, he could hear—could see—the thrill flowing through her.

He’d been euphoric. He never raced other cars on the track. He was always racing himself. But with Harper in the car, he hadn’t felt like he needed to outrun his past anymore. She’d heard it all. And she was still here beside him.

For the first time ever, speed had been just for fun, rather than the need of a junkie desperately taking his hit just to make it through to the next day.

He touched her hand in the close confines of the car and he heard her breath hitch at his touch. Even her skin seemed to be humming with electricity as she suddenly said, “Take this exit.”

With nothing more than three small words, she flipped his switch, turned him on, powered up his engine. Which was exactly what he knew he’d done to her every time he’d pushed his foot to the floor and blown past her speed limits.

He finally saw the same thing she had—a motel, one of the better chains, but nothing like his usual luxury.

“There,” she said, pointing. And it required only that one husky word to throw him nearly to the edge.

He took the exit.

CHAPTER THIRTY

“I could have paid for the room.”

“No.” Harper had gotten a great deal of pleasure out of charging the bill on her credit card. It was fun, as if she were having an illicit affair with a slick race car driver.

All she’d thought about in the car was getting her hands on him. And his hands on her. The moment the door closed behind them, she fisted his shirt and pulled his head down to hers. Her blood was on the boil as she kissed him—deep, wet kisses that made them both desperate.

“Did you bring a condom?” She couldn’t believe herself—Miss Timid making demands. Taking charge. Better than that, feeling totally comfortable doing both those things.

He patted his back pocket. “Always prepared, just like a Boy Scout.”

“You—” She tapped his chest. “—were never a Boy Scout.” Grabbing his shirt again, she turned and dragged him to the bed. “You’re a road warrior.” A fire flared in his eyes, one that she knew had to match the fire in hers. “My road warrior.” With the flat of her hand on his chest, she pushed him down onto the mattress. “And I want you bad.”

The curtains were closed, the room dim, and his eyes were as dark as blue midnight. And hot.

“Not as bad as I need you, sweetheart.”

Harper slid out of her sandals and climbed onto his lap. With her thighs along his, she slid down hard against him. His hands on her butt, he hauled her even closer, until every ridge and bulge enticed her through their jeans.

God, she loved the feel of him. The hard muscles, slick skin, delicious mouth.

“I want to ride you the way I rode the Cobra today,” she said, her lips almost touching his. “Only I want your hands, your arms, to be the straps keeping me safe.”

“Jesus.” His breath caught in his throat as though even the idea of her being on top was too much for him.

She bit his lip. A love bite. Then leaned down and practically jerked the T-shirt off him. If she could have had him in the car at high speed on the freeway, she’d have done it. This was the next best thing.

They tore at the front of his jeans, Will undoing the button, Harper sliding the zipper. She stepped back onto the carpet to let him get rid of everything and swiped her T-shirt over her head. She’d never gotten naked so fast, and she didn’t even let him climb fully up the bed before she was on him again.

Her hair fell forward, cocooning them. “You made me crazy in the Cobra on purpose, didn’t you?”

He grinned a Who me? smile. But then his expression grew serious. And loving. “I want to give you everything,” he said in a voice made raw with desire and emotion. “Everything you want. Everything you need.”