Page 22 of Breaking All The Rules
They’d barely gone any distance at all when Austin braked and the revs cut out, and they were just sitting in the unused parking lot, smoke gradually dissipating with nothing but the low rumble of the engine and the sound of her ragged breathing.
Holy freaking moly—who needed drugs when there was burning rubber?
“Okay, Beatrice,” he said. “Your turn.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Putting the car in neutral, Austin undid his seat belt, opened his door, and exited. Bea stared after him, not moving for a beat or two, her hands and her legs shaking so hard from adrenaline and anticipation. Then he was at her door, opening it, blue denim filling her vision. “You don’t have to do this.”
Oh yes, she did. She really, really needed to do this. If it had felt this good as a passenger, how good must it feel to be the one in the driver’s seat? Bea had been kicked out of the driver’s seat of her life, and she wanted it back.
And really, the only true question was: WWDD?
Unclipping her seat belt with fingers that refused to cooperate took longer than Bea would have liked, but she finally managed, climbing out of the car on unsteady legs, her gaze locking with his for the briefest moment. And in that nanosecond, with the acrid stench of burned rubber making her dizzy, she saw the same reckless kind of craving lurking in his eyes she knew lurked in her own. She wondered if he could feel it in every cell of his body like she could?
Feel it in every atom of oxygen in his lungs?
Passing by him, she scuttled around the idling car on her still-trembling legs to the driver’s side, praying like hell she didn’t trip over her feet and fall on her face. She didn’t.
After sliding into the driver’s seat, Bea shut the door with a reassuring thunk and buckled up.
“Okay, remember what I said?”
Yes. No. Yes. Bea nodded. “Sure.” She could do this.
“Good. Turn the car around so it’s facing back the other way, so you have plenty of road ahead.”
Bea’s hands slid onto the wheel. It was thick and solid as she wrapped her fingers around the circumference, the soft leather cover giving it an almost silky feel. She’d never noticed until right now with every cell in her body in a state of frisson and Officer Sexy Mouth beside her generating pheromones by the bucketload, just how phallic a steering wheel could feel as it slid between her curled fingers.
Thankfully the smoke had cleared, and Bea was able to put the car into first and follow his instructions. In less than a minute, they were stationary in the parking lot, facing the opposite direction. She revved the engine just for the hell of it, and her inner thigh muscles contracted deliciously at the corresponding roar.
Her nipples went hard as nickels.
“You ready for this?” His voice was low and loaded, and Bea was pretty sure he wasn’t just asking about the burnout. But that was all she had eyes for right now. The asphalt ahead, the mad skip of her pulse, and the drag of her lungs as she revved the engine several more times.
With her foot planted squarely on the brake, the car roared like a 737, and lust and sex and anticipation swelled in Bea so hard and so fast every fiber in her belly pulled taut.
“That’s it,” he said, “good hold.”
His compliment was low in her ear. Or maybe it wasn’t, but she could barely hear him over the thrum of her pulse through her head. Bea’s face heated and her breathing grew thicker as the wheels started to spin and the tires squealed on the asphalt and the smoke started to billow up in the rear window.
She was doing it. Holding this screeching, belching, demanding animal in place, snarling and snapping to be let free, with just her feet and her hands and her freaking mind, and she’d never been more terrified or more turned on in her life.
“Good,” Austin murmured, just audible over the jungle beat of her heart. “Ease her out now, but keep her close.”
Bea did as she was told, the car slewing crazily to one side for a moment as it squealed to be let go, but she pulled it back in to its forward trajectory, her knuckles blanching as they tightened around the steering wheel and thick white smoke billowed around them. She drove the vehicle about thirty or forty feet, keeping the beast well and truly leashed, before bringing it to a screeching halt.
Silence filled the car, and Bea finally let out her breath as she put it into neutral, the taut bow of her body slumping against the seat.
“Holy shit,” she whispered, raising her trembling hands and staring at them, her body one giant reverberating thrum.
He laughed a great honking laugh. “You did it.”
Bea turned her head and stared at him. “I did, didn’t I?” And she laughed, too. Pressing her hands to her chest, she laughed in a way she hadn’t laughed in years.
“You did that like a pro,” he said when their laughter finally faded.
“That’s because I had a good teacher.”
