Page 75 of Out of Control

I race from memory. Each ease on the throttle. Each shift of the car. Every chicane to navigate. How close I am to the wall. Even the slightest turn of the wheel.

With my eyes closed, every sense is heightened. My memory. The curves. The bank of the track. My split-second reaction to every scenario the computer throws my way.

And I know the minute Sofia walks into my simulator room. It’s the hint of her perfume that announces her presence.

But I finish my lap. Racing against time and my memory. Against the pull of the only woman I’ve ever let distract me.

And distract me tonight she has when she showed up at my door, her skin still warm from the sun she was lying in and a quiet somberness to her I’ve never seen. Her only words were, “I didn’t want to be alone. Can I just hang here? I won’t disturb you.”

Doesn’t she know though when she’s anywhere near me that she disturbs me in the best way possible?

“I know you’re there,” I say before I open my eyes into the darkened room.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bug you.”

“It’s okay. I’m almost done.” I can hear her move farther into the room.

“I like watching you work,” she says and comes into view.

There’s a softness to her tonight. A tentativeness. Something is clearly on her mind, but she’ll tell me when the time is right, if she wants to.

I take my headset off and hang it on the hook beside me. “You sure you’re okay?” I ask.

Her smile is soft. “I am now.”

“You want to talk about it?”

She gives the slightest shake of her head. “Had a conversation with Lilith earlier. I’m tired. Overwhelmed. Just a bunch to think about.”

I purse my lips and nod, not sure exactly what that means. “You ever been in one of these?” I ask.

“When I was a kid. I used to sneak into my brother’s simulator when he wasn’t home. Pretend I was like him and race an imaginary circuit.” Her smile is bittersweet.

“The number of times I’d sit in someone else’s cart long after their race was over and pretend I was driving the entire course. I probably looked like an idiot to anyone else who wandered past. A ten-year-old, helmet on, eyes closed, making kart sounds as I played out the last lap of a race where I overtook everyone for the win.” I smile. It’s a memory I rarely think of these days but the fact that I did, and she brought it out of me without all of the other bullshit that usually comes with my childhood memories, says a lot about her and what I think of her.

“That makes me smile,” she says.

I hold my hand out to her. “Come drive.”

Her head startles as she looks at me with curious eyes. “What do you mean, come drive?” she asks but takes my hand as I tug her toward me.

“Sit.” I pull her hips so that she can sit on my lap and then direct her to lean back against my chest. The space is tight and there’s no way there will be any accuracy with this drive, but I like her here. I like her like this.

“This won’t exactly work.”

“Sure it will.” I guide her leg over mine and ghost my arms with hers on the steering wheel. “Drive with me, Bellissima.”

Her ass is nestled over my cock and her hair tickles my cheek. Her skin smells like sun and her laugh sounds off as, according to the screens in front of us, we sit on the starting grid, waiting for lights out—the start of a race.

“Rossi.”

“Shh. Hands here.” I put her fingers where they need to be to hit the right buttons and use my feet beneath hers to get ready on the pedals for the start. “Watch the lights,” I say in her ear and love seeing the goosebumps blanket her skin. “I’ll push the gas, you steer.”

“What about shifting?”

I love the sudden panic in her voice, the fear like this is a real car on a real track.

“I’ll help you with that until you get the hang of it.”